His Unwanted Fiancé Is A Genius Heiress

Karmen forced a loud, grating laugh. The sound bounced off the high ceilings, completely out of place in the tense room. Stanislaw froze, the phone receiver hovering inches from his ear. He stared at her like she had lost her mind. "What the hell are you laughing at?" he barked. Karmen shoved her hands into her pockets, projecting an aura of absolute arrogance. "You're panicking over a standard negotiation tactic. Earl is obsessed with me. The legal email is just his board trying to squeeze a better valuation out of you." Brandi snorted loudly from the couch. "Please. Everyone in Manhattan knows Earl Calderon is repulsed by you. You're a scarred freak." "I'm calling the lawyers," Stanislaw growled, turning back to the phone. Before his finger could press the dial button, the heavy brass doorbell of the penthouse chimed. It was a sharp, demanding sound. A maid scurried across the foyer and pulled the door open. Heavy, synchronized footsteps echoed on the marble floor. Alistair Finch stepped into the living room. He was dressed in his flawless black tailcoat, the silver Calderon family crest gleaming on his lapel. Flanking him were two massive security contractors in dark suits. Stanislaw dropped the phone receiver. It dangled by its cord, beeping loudly. The sight of the Calderon crest acted like a physical switch on Stanislaw. He practically tripped over the rug as he rushed forward, his face splitting into a desperate, ingratiating smile. "Mr. Finch! What an unexpected honor," Stanislaw reached out both hands, eager to shake. Alistair did not break his stride. He smoothly bypassed Stanislaw's outstretched hands, his eyes fixed entirely on Karmen. Stanislaw stood there, his hands grasping empty air, his face burning with humiliation. Alistair stopped three feet from Karmen. He inclined his head in a formal, impeccable bow-a gesture of measured, surface-level respect that perfectly maintained the Calderon family's rigid etiquette without offering a shred of genuine deference. He reached into his jacket and produced a thick, black velvet envelope sealed with silver wax. He held it out to Karmen with both hands. "Mr. Calderon requests the honor of your presence for a private dinner at the estate next Wednesday evening," Alistair announced, ensuring every syllable was heard by Stanislaw. "He specifically emphasized how much he is looking forward to it." The words hit the room like a shockwave. Stanislaw's jaw literally dropped. His eyes darted from the velvet envelope to Karmen, absolute shock radiating from his pores. Brandi's mouth hung open, her face turning a sickly shade of pale. Karmen's heart leaped into her throat, but she kept her facial muscles completely paralyzed. She slowly pulled one hand from her pocket and pinched the envelope between two fingers, taking it from Alistair with deliberate disrespect. "Tell Earl I'll check my schedule," Karmen drawled, tossing the envelope onto the glass coffee table. "I might make an appearance." Alistair did not flinch at the disrespect. He simply bowed again. "I will relay your message, Master Kem." Stanislaw suddenly snapped out of his shock. He rushed forward, his hands rubbing together. "Mr. Finch, please, let me have the maid pour you some of our best scotch! We are thrilled about the dinner!" Alistair turned his head slightly, looking at Stanislaw as if he were a stain on the carpet. "That will not be necessary. I must return to the estate," Alistair said coldly. He turned on his heel and marched out the door, the two bodyguards following silently. The heavy oak doors clicked shut. The atmosphere in the living room inverted instantly. Stanislaw turned to Karmen. The murderous rage from two minutes ago was entirely gone. In its place was a sickening, paternal warmth that made Karmen's stomach churn. "Kem, my boy!" Stanislaw laughed, stepping forward to clap her on the shoulder. Karmen forced herself not to violently shove him away. "I knew you had him wrapped around your finger! I was just testing you earlier, you know that, right? Keeping you sharp!" Karmen looked at the hand on her shoulder, then up at her father's greedy, sweating face. The urge to vomit was overwhelming. She pointed a finger at the dangling phone receiver. "Are you still calling the lawyers?" she asked, her voice dead flat. Stanislaw quickly grabbed the receiver and slammed it onto the base. "Of course not! Your mother's trust is perfectly safe. In fact, I'll have accounting double your monthly allowance today." Karmen didn't say another word. She picked up the velvet envelope, turned her back on him, and walked down the long hallway to her bedroom. She stepped inside and locked the door. The moment the deadbolt clicked, Karmen's knees gave out. She slid down the heavy wooden door until she hit the floor. Cold sweat soaked through her dress shirt. She pressed her forehead against her knees, her lungs pulling in ragged, desperate breaths. Augusta Calderon's forced mandate had just saved her mother's life. But Karmen knew this was only a temporary reprieve.