“Adam…” Mrs. Mary Be stepped beside Emery, removing her gloves with deliberate precision. She handed both the gloves and her designer bag to Darlene without so much as a nce, like she owned the ce. Her eyes locked onto her son with a re sharp enough to cut ss. “How could you not inform your own mother that Emery is getting married?”


    Deana quickly stepped forward, forcing a smile as she tried to smooth things over. “Mother, we weren’t expecting you today. You’vee such a long way-and from the other side of the world, no less. Why don’t I show you to your room so you can rest? We’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”


    Mary turned her gaze on Deana like she was swatting away an insect. “I don’t remember asking for your input, Deana.” Her eyes didn’t blink as she stared her down. “I’m speaking to my son. Not his shadow.”


    But words like that were never enough to stop Deana. Instead of taking offense, she reached for Mary Be’s arm-only for the older woman to step back and shoot her a re so sharp it made Deana retract her hand at once. She forced a polite smile, though the tension in her jaw betrayed her restraint.


    She hadn’t expected this. Not today. Not ever. Thest update they had from Mary was a postcard from Dubai, two months ago. Before that, she’d been in Spain. Sometimes Moro. Other times, Bali. She had spent thest five years doing whatever she wanted while the rest of them held the family together.


    And now she was here. Unannounced. Uninvited. Right when everything was finally under control.


    Deana turned slightly and gave Emery a sharp look. The girl stood there with her usual neutral expression, hands calmly folded in front of her. Not surprised at all.


    Of course. This had Emery written all over it.


    “We didn’t know you wereing,” Deana said, ignoring Mary’s earlier words. “You must be tired.”


    This time, Mary ignored her as she walked further into the room.


    Deana bit the inside of her cheek. She was going to lose it.


    Mary turned to Adam. “Well? Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you nning to wait until the wedding to mention that my granddaughter was getting married?”


    Adam stood stiffly by the firece, his expression unreadable.


    “This is her engagement, Adam,” Mary continued. “Did it not ur to you that maybe-just maybe the woman who raised her might want to know?”


    Deana moved closer, trying again. “Mother, it all happened so fast. Adam didn’t—”


    “Oh, don’t start that,” Mary cut her off. “You’re not new here, Deana. You’ve been ying your soft little role for years. Don’t think I don’t know exactly what goes on in this house.”


    Deana stepped back. She kept her hands at her sides, but her fingernails pressed into her palm.


    Mary looked around the room, eyes sweeping over the guests. “I see you had time to invite all these people. But not the woman who practically raised her? Interesting.”


    Deana kept her expression even, but her thoughts were anything but calm. Mary always had a way of walking into a room and acting like she still ran it. Maybe once, she did. But not anymore. Not today.


    “She is my granddaughter,” Mary said. “Don’t forget that. When you couldn’t do it, Adam, I did raise her like my own. So


    don’t act like you’re the only one with a say in what happens to her.”


    “Mother-this-this-” Adam awkwardly looked at Deana, silently pleading for his wife to take his mother away. Mary Be was not someone to be trifled with. She’s the matriarch of the Be family for a reason.


    “Cat got your tongue, Adam? Or are you just waiting for Deana to speak for you again?” Mary said, turning slightly as her eyes swept over the room.


    “Mother, not now,” Adam said. “Why don’t you let Deana apany you to your room and-”


    “And what? Let you do your business? Sell my granddaughter to some businessman who was almost your age? What a scandal!”


    Deana immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere. The other guests-men in tailored suits, women dripping in quiet wealth-fell silent. A few exchanged nces. Of course, they recognized her. Everyone in their circles did.


    Mary Be wasn’t just some retired businesswoman. She had built her name during a time when women were expected to stay silent and marry well. Instead, she built one of thergest privately owned logistics firms in the country, negotiated deals most men wouldn’t touch, and lobbied for corporate protections for working mothers before it was even considered appropriate.


    She had stood before national television during a protest, shaken hands with senators, and had once been recognized by the sitting president for her contributions to women’s rights and economic growth.


    She wasn’t just Adam’s mother. She was Mary Be. And in this family, that meant something.


    Deana shifted her weight, watching Adam. He still hadn’t said a word. He looked stuck, caught between the old fear of a powerful mother and the shame of being confronted in his own home. His jaw moved slightly, but he stayed silent.


    Mary looked back at him. “You didn’t think I’d find out? You thought you could arrange her engagement, parade her in front of strangers, and I wouldn’t hear about it? This is my granddaughter. The same girl you ignored for years. The same girl I took care of because neither you nor your wife had the spine to stand up to anyone.”


    Deana flinched slightly at the jab but didn’t respond. She knew better. No one won an argument with Mary Be in front of an audience.


    Adam opened his mouth, then closed it again. His eyes dropped to the floor.


    Mary scoffed. “That’s what I thought.” She turned to Emery, cing a hand lightly on her arm. “Go sit down, sweetheart. I’ll handle this.” Then she looked at Carl Moregardh for the first time. Her eyes narrowed. “And we will definitely be having a conversation.”


    ‘There’s no need for that, Grandmother,” Emery said as she gently took the older woman’s hand. “I’m not sure what kind of news reached you, but I’m not engaged to anyone-especially not to a man nearly twice my age, and certainly not with my consent.”


    “Emery…” Adam red at Emery.


    “Is there something wrong, Father?” Emery blinked. When her father said nothing, she turned her attention back to her grandmother. “Grandmother, why don’t I apany you to your room while Father fixes the situation on your behalf? Isn’t that right, Father?”