Beneath the Surface

Lina’s POV

If I had to pick a single moment when my life officially spiraled into chaos, it was that night in the garden with Zara. Something had shifted between us, though I couldn’t tell if it was for better or worse. All I knew was that her words, her piercing gaze, had rattled me more than I cared to admit.

The next morning, I tried to shake it off by focusing on my own life—what little of it remained under my control. I threw myself into work at the gallery, sorting through new exhibits and arguing with an overenthusiastic artist about whether his sculpture of a "melting giraffe" really needed to be twelve feet tall.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about Zara.

By the time I returned to the Elahi mansion that evening, I was exhausted, both physically and mentally. The thought of another awkward dinner with Zara and our hovering parents was almost enough to make me turn around and leave.

But as I stepped inside, I was greeted by the sound of raised voices.

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Zara’s POV

“I’m telling you, it’s too much!” I snapped, pacing the living room. My parents sat across from me, their expressions a mix of irritation and exasperation.

“It’s not up for debate,” my father said firmly. “The guest list is final. This wedding is about more than just you and Lina. It’s about our legacy.”

“Your legacy,” I corrected, stopping to glare at him. “You’re not the one who has to stand up there and pretend to be in love with someone you barely know.”

“Zara,” my mother interjected, her tone soft but warning, “we all have to make sacrifices for the family.”

I scoffed. “Sacrifices? Is that what you call this circus?”

Before they could respond, Lina walked in, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

My father turned to her, his expression softening. “Not at all, dear. We were just discussing some details about the wedding.”

“Details,” I muttered under my breath.

Lina raised an eyebrow at me but didn’t comment. Instead, she walked over and flopped onto the couch like she owned the place.

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” she said, smirking. “I love a good family drama.”

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Lina’s POV

Watching Zara argue with her parents was oddly fascinating. She was usually so composed, so in control. Seeing her lose her cool was like watching a crack form in a flawless diamond.

“Since you’re here,” Zara said, turning to me with a sharp look, “maybe you’d like to weigh in. Our parents think we need a thousand people at this wedding. What do you think?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… that sounds insane.”

Zara’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile.

“It’s not insane,” her mother said firmly. “It’s necessary. The guest list includes important business associates, investors, and extended family.”

“Because nothing says true love like inviting people we’ve never met,” I muttered.

Zara’s father shot me a disapproving look, but Zara actually laughed—a short, bitter sound.

“See? Even Lina thinks it’s ridiculous,” she said.

Her father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t about what you think, Zara. It’s about appearances.”

“And that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Zara snapped.

The tension in the room was suffocating, and for once, I felt a pang of sympathy for Zara.

“Okay, enough,” I said, standing up. “If you two are going to keep arguing, at least do it after dinner. I’m starving.”

Zara looked at me, surprised, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But then she sighed and nodded.

“Fine,” she said, brushing past me on her way to the dining room.

---

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. Our parents tried to steer the conversation toward safer topics, but the tension between Zara and me was palpable.

Afterward, I retreated to the library, hoping for some peace and quiet. But, of course, Zara followed me.

“What was that about?” I asked as she closed the door behind her.

She shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “Just another day in paradise.”

I frowned. “You really hate this, don’t you?”

“What gave it away?” she said dryly.

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. Part of me wanted to comfort her, but another part of me couldn’t resist poking at her carefully constructed facade.

“You know,” I said, smirking, “for someone who claims to hate this arrangement, you sure do play the perfect daughter well.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And for someone who claims to hate me, you’re awfully invested in my feelings.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but no words came out. She had a point.

“Why are you really here, Lina?” she asked, stepping closer.

“To escape my parents,” I said quickly. Too quickly.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Fine,” I admitted, crossing my arms. “Maybe I was worried about you. Happy?”

For a moment, she just stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, she smiled.

“Almost,” she said softly.

The look in her eyes made my heart skip a beat, and I suddenly felt like the ground was shifting beneath my feet.

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Zara’s POV

I didn’t know what possessed me to smile at Lina like that. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the fact that she’d actually admitted to caring—even a little.

Whatever it was, it felt… dangerous.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, her voice shaky.

“Like what?” I asked, my smile widening.

“Like you’re about to… I don’t know. Do something stupid,” she muttered.

I took a step closer, and she took a step back, bumping into the bookshelf.

“Zara…” she warned, her eyes darting toward the door.

I stopped, my smile fading. “Relax, Lina. I’m not going to do anything. I just… I don’t want to fight anymore.”

She blinked, clearly surprised. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said. “Truce?”

She hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Truce.”

But as I left the library, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this truce was only the beginning of something far more complicated.

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