The sun was already dipping toward the horizon as the luxury car pulled away from the Pratama family estate. The ride was no longer as heavy and silent as it had been that morning. Laras still replayed every sharp glance and mocking remark in her mind, while Arga sat beside her, stealing quick glances as if checking if she was still holding up.
“I’m sorry for how they treated you,” Arga said suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was no longer ice‑cold, just steady and calm. “I’ve grown used to their words and looks over the years. Don’t take everything they say to heart.”
Laras turned to look at him, her eyes soft with curiosity and a hint of pity. “Have you always felt this alone in such a big family?”
Arga stared out the window at the passing road, his expression unreadable. “Since I was five. My mother passed away then. My father acknowledged me on paper, but never truly accepted me as part of the family. To them, I was nothing more than a mistake they wanted to forget. That’s why I built these walls—never trust anyone, never show your weakness.”
Hearing that, Laras felt a sharp ache in her chest. “Thank you for standing up for me back there. Without you, I don’t think I would have known how to answer their questions.”
Arga only nodded once. “It’s part of our agreement. As long as this contract stands, our names are linked. If they humiliate you, they humiliate me. It’s only logical.”
Even though he hid behind cold logic, Laras could feel there was more than just duty in his actions.
When they arrived home, Laras turned to head straight to her room, but Arga called her back.
“Stay inside your room tonight unless it’s an emergency. My half‑brothers are looking for any excuse to bring me down. They might try to approach you, offer you things, or ask questions you shouldn’t answer. Remember—do not trust them, and do not accept anything from them.”
“I understand. I’ll be careful,” Laras replied firmly.
That evening, the house felt unusually quiet. Laras sat at her desk, holding a cup of warm tea that Bibi Marni had just brought in.
“Mr. Arga may seem harsh and cold on the outside, Miss,” the housekeeper whispered before leaving, “but his heart is much softer than anyone knows. He’s just afraid of getting hurt again.”
Those words stayed with Laras. Slowly, she began to realize that the high walls Arga had built were nothing more than a shield to protect himself from deeper pain.
Meanwhile, in his study, Arga sat behind his large desk. His eyes scanned the business reports, but his mind kept drifting back to Laras. “She’s different… no greed, no hidden agenda, just honest and true.”
He shook his head, forcing those thoughts away. “Remind yourself—this is only a contract. Don’t let feelings ruin everything you’ve worked for.”
But deep down, he didn’t realize that Laras’ presence was already starting to crack the walls he had built for years. And outside, Raka and his allies were already plotting their next move, determined to find any small opening to break this marriage and bring Arga down for good.