Marrying My Father's Enemy
Chapter 66: Unwanted Dinner; Callian’s Anger

Chapter 66: Unwanted Dinner; Callian’s Anger

Chapter 66: Unwanted Dinner: Callian’s Anger

Callian pulled his car to a smooth stop outside the small, cozy apartment complex.

He glanced at Eira, looking calm yet confident.

"We’re here," he said.

Eira frowned. "How do you know where I’m staying? I didn’t tell you."

Callian turned to her, a smile tugged at his lips. "You really think I couldn’t find you? Eira, you’d have to move to Mars for me to lose you. And even then, I’d probably build a spaceship to follow you."

Eira blinked, caught between surprise and irritation. "You’re unbelievable."

"I know," he said with a smirk.

She opened the car door, stepping out as the crisp night air brushed against her.

Callian got out too, walking around to her side.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning," he said softer. "You need to come home."

Eira hesitated, her fingers brushed the strap of her bag. "Alright," she said quietly, nodding.

Callian leaned down, his lips pressed gently against her forehead.

As he pulled back, he whispered, "Goodnight, Eira."

She didn’t reply, her heart was too tangled in the moment.

Callian turned toward his car, noticing Sana standing in the doorway of the building.

She nodded at him, and he returned the gesture before slipping back into the driver’s seat.

*bbzz*

He ignored it.

But on the drive back, Callian’s phone buzzed again.

At the next red light, he picked it up and saw a message from his mother.

Important dinner tonight. Be at the mansion by 8. Don’t be late.

He sighed, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat. "Of course," he muttered, shaking his head.

/At the Mansion\

Two hours later, Callian entered his parents’ sprawling mansion.

The grand chandelier in the foyer glittered like a constellation, casting a warm glow over the polished floors.

But the opulence only irritated him tonight.

Leina Reed appeared almost instantly.

Her face was composed, softened slightly when she saw the dark circles under her son’s eyes.

"Callian, darling," she said, reaching for his arm, "you look exhausted. Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," Callian said curtly, brushing past her and heading toward the dining room.

Leina followed, her heels tapped rhythmically behind him.

The long dining table was already set, the silverware was brighter under the chandelier’s light.

Callian sat down heavily at his usual seat, running a hand through his hair.

"I hope you don’t mind," Leina said with a sweet smile, taking her place at the head of the table. "I invited Mita to join us tonight."

Callian’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Moments later, Mita walked in.

Her perfectly styled red hair framed her small facial features, and she wore a pale blue dress that seemed chosen to make her appear innocent.

She smiled shyly at Callian as she sat across from him.

"Good evening, Callian," she said.

He gave her a curt nod.

The servants began serving dinner, the clinking of plates and glasses filling the silence. But the tension in the air couldn’t be ignored.

Leina cleared her throat delicately. "So, Callian," she began, her tone light but pointed, "have you given any more thought to the divorce?"

Callian froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He set it down slowly, his eyes locking onto his mother.

"No," he said firmly.

Rylan looked up from his plate, his brows furrowed. "He shouldn’t divorce her," Rylan stated.

Leina’s smile tightened. "Rylan, dear, this isn’t your decision to make."

Rylan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "It’s not yours either, Mother."

Leina ignored him, turning back to Callian. "Your real fiancée, Mita, is back. She’s the one you were meant to marry. You can fix this mess and move forward."

Callian’s fist slammed onto the table, rattling the glasses and plates. Everyone jumped at the sound.

"How dare you?" he hissed in a furious tone. "How dare you tell Eira about divorce? How dare you meddle in my life and ruin everything?"

Leina’s eyes widened slightly, but she recovered quickly. "I was only trying to do what’s best for you," she said. "Eira is—"

Mita interjected, her voice trembled. "She’s dying, Callian. We’re trying to help you."

Callian turned to her, his anger now directed at her as well. "Help me? You’re trying to destroy me!"

Mita recoiled slightly, her lips parted as if to argue, but Callian cut her off.

"Eira is my wife," he said in a hard and final voice. "I chose her. Not you, Mita. Not Mother. And no amount of scheming or manipulation will change that."

Leina’s composure cracked, her eyes narrowed. "You’re being unreasonable, Callian. This is about your future—"

"No, Mother," Callian snapped, standing abruptly. "This is about you trying to control me. And I won’t let you."

He glared around the table, his chest heaved with anger, before turning on his heel and storming out of the dining room.

The sound of the door slamming echoed through the mansion, leaving the rest of the family in tense silence.

The Confrontation

Mita stood abruptly as the door slammed shut. Her pale blue dress rustled as she turned to Leina.

"I’ll talk to him."

Leina raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely giving her a pointed look as if to say, Fix this.

She found him in the hallway leading to the garden, his hands braced on the wall, his back to her.

"Callian," she called softly, trying to sound calm.

He didn’t turn around.

"What do you want, Mita?"

She stepped closer, folding her hands in front of her. "I just want to talk."

"There’s nothing to talk about."

Mita flinched but pressed on. "I don’t understand why you’re so angry. I’m only trying to help you."

"Ha! Ha!" Callian laughed in a bitter sound.

"Help me? That’s what you call this? Meddling in my marriage, showing up uninvited, letting my mother use you as a pawn—how is any of that helping me?"

"I’m not a pawn," Mita snapped. "I care about you, Callian. I always have."

"Care about me?" he repeated. "No, Mita. This isn’t about caring. This is about your obsession. You don’t care about me—you care about the idea of me."

Mita’s face flushed. "That’s not true!"

"It is," Callian stepped closer. "You’ve built this fantasy in your head about who I am and what we could be. But let me make one thing clear, Mita. I don’t love you. I never have."

Mita’s lips parted in shock, her hands clenched at her sides. "You’re wrong. You did love me once—before her. Before Eira."

Callian shook his head. "No. I tolerated you because our families wanted it. I played along because it was easier than fighting. But love? That was never part of it."

She took a shaky breath. "How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through—"

"Been through?" he interrupted. "We’ve been through nothing, Mita. You’ve convinced yourself that there’s something between us because you can’t handle the truth: You don’t matter to me."

Tears came from her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "You don’t mean that."

"I do. You need to stop this, Mita. Stop chasing after me, stop letting my mother drag you into her schemes. Because all it’s doing is making you look desperate."

Her breath hitched, and she stared at him, her face crumbled. "I’m not desperate. I love you, Callian. I always have."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You don’t love me. You love the idea of being a Reed. You love the status, the power, the prestige. That’s what this is about. And it’s pathetic."

Mita stepped back as though his words had physically struck her.

"Why are you being so cruel?" she whispered.

"Because you need to hear it. You’re wasting your life chasing after something that doesn’t exist. Move on, Mita. Find someone else. Someone who actually wants you."

"I can’t. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted."

"That’s your problem, not mine," Callian said, turning away. "I’m done with this conversation."

He turned away.

"If you don’t care about me, then don’t save me."

"What?" Callian asked, turning around just to see her about to jump from the balcony.

"Are you crazy? Just get down here."

"I—I love you, Callian..."

"Mita!"