Chapter Text
Bruce advanced down the narrow hallway, his footsteps muffled by the worn carpet leading to the bedrooms. Though the house was silent, the muffled murmurs drifting from the last door guided him toward his destination. His brow furrowed, and almost without realizing it, he squeezed the hand he was holding, seeking reassurance.
The subtle gesture didn’t go unnoticed. His companion turned to him, concern flickering in her gaze.
"What are you thinking about?" Brandy asked, her voice soft, as if she feared disturbing the quiet around them.
Bruce exhaled, doubt and worry swirling in his violet eyes. "Brandy… are we doing the right thing? Should we really trust that John Dory knows what he's doing?"
The redhead gave him a patient, tender smile, gently squeezing his hand in support. "I understand your doubts, honey, but sometimes you just have to have faith. John Dory doesn’t always get it right, but I think he truly wants what’s best for everyone."
Bruce considered her words, his expression gradually softening. Finally, he nodded, returning her smile.
Without further hesitation, they stopped in front of the last door. Moving carefully, Bruce turned the knob, opening it just enough to peek inside. The sight that greeted them brought a fond smile to their faces.
There, in the center of the room, stood Branch—Bruce’s younger sister, barely seven—leaning over Clay, the middle sibling, as she carefully applied a bright shade of pink lipstick to his lips. Clay, visibly resigned, remained stoic, though his eyes seemed to be pleading with the universe for mercy.
In the corner, Floyd—the second youngest of the siblings—sat recording the scene on his phone, barely holding back his laughter.
"Don't move!" Branch warned, waving the lipstick in front of Clay’s face. "If you ruin my masterpiece, I’ll have to start all over again."
"God forbid…" Clay muttered, though he remained perfectly still.
Bruce cleared his throat from the doorway, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. Floyd glanced up from his phone, then burst into open laughter at the sight of the couple standing there.
“Enjoying the show?” Floyd asked, his tone dripping with amusement.
“More than we probably should be,” Bruce replied, stepping into the room with Brandy beside him.
Branch’s eyes lit up the moment she spotted her older brother. “Bruce!” she squealed, hastily setting aside her lipstick. “Do you want to be my next model?”
The room erupted in laughter, but Bruce simply crouched down in front of his little sister, resting his hands gently on her shoulders. “Maybe another day, little one.”
Branch pursed her lips, caught between disappointment and defiance. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, Brandy stepped in with a bright smile.
“How about this—what if you become my model, little Branchie?” she suggested, picking up the makeup case with a theatrical flourish.
Branch’s face lit up instantly, eyes wide with excitement. “Really?!” she gasped, practically bouncing in place.
“Of course! But on one condition—we’ll keep it simple and special, nothing too over the top.”
Branch nodded eagerly, hopping onto a small chair and surrendering herself to Brandy’s care. The young woman leaned in with a warm smile, carefully selecting the softest, most flattering colors—ones that would highlight Branch’s natural sweetness while keeping her playful essence intact.
Meanwhile, Bruce and his brothers exchanged uneasy glances. Despite the laughter filling the room, the weight of their concerns lingered. Floyd crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, while Clay discreetly wiped off the remnants of makeup with a tissue he had found nearby.
"Do you really think this will work?" Floyd murmured, his voice barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the girls.
Bruce exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Floyd. John Dory has always been the one making the tough calls."
Clay, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "It’s not about whether JD is right or wrong that worries me… It’s that Branch will be the one to pay the price if he isn’t."
Floyd gave a slow, reluctant nod. The three of them stood in tense silence, watching as Brandy carefully dabbed a touch of gloss onto Branch’s cheeks. The little girl grinned at her reflection, completely unaware of the unease in the room.
Bruce squared his shoulders. "If we’re going to trust John, we have to do it as a team," he said firmly. "Because if this starts to go south, we need to be ready to step in."
Floyd and Clay exchanged a look before nodding. They weren’t entirely convinced, but they knew Bruce was right.
"All done!" Brandy’s voice cut through their thoughts.
Branch immediately sprang to her feet and ran to her brothers, beaming. "Look! Don’t I look like a star?"
Floyd smiled, leaning in as if to inspect her more closely. "No doubt about it, my sapphire. You’re the brightest star in this family. Here—let me take a picture and send it to JD so he can see how beautiful you look."
Branch laughed with delight, eagerly striking a pose for the camera—completely unaware of the storm brewing just beneath her brothers’ quiet conversation.
*************************
Viva read the message on her phone, and her brow furrowed instantly. She understood that her family was going through a difficult time, one that demanded drastic measures, but that didn’t stop the pang of uncertainty that settled in her chest. With a resigned sigh, she slipped the phone into her pocket and headed for the backyard, hoping the sight of her little brother would bring her some relief.
She walked slowly, letting the floral scent in the air and the soft crunch of grass beneath her feet ground her, even if just for a moment. In the distance, childish laughter rang out, light and carefree. The sound tugged at her heart, and her pace quickened as she followed the voices.
Rounding the corner, she spotted Poppy and his ever-loyal friend Smidge. The two were completely immersed in their imaginary world, brandishing wooden sticks as makeshift swords while racing around a ‘castle’ built from branches and old cushions.
Viva paused, watching from a distance as a fond smile curved her lips. For a brief moment, her worries faded, replaced by the simple joy of childhood innocence. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, careful not to disrupt their game too abruptly.
“Hello there!” Viva greeted warmly, crouching slightly to meet their level. “What are you two up to?”
Poppy’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he raised his ‘sword’ high into the air. “We’re brave knights!” he declared. “On a mission to rescue the princess from the evil dragon!”
Beside him, Smidge nodded vigorously, gripping her stick with the unshakable seriousness of a seasoned warrior.
“You could be our princess,” Poppy said, grinning as he bounded toward Viva. “Wanna play with us?”
Viva chuckled, amused by her younger brother’s enthusiasm. “And why isn’t Smidge the princess in distress?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise.
Smidge crossed her arms, her expression firm. “Because I want to be a knight,” she declared. “I like being in the action, not sitting around waiting for someone to rescue me.”
Viva’s smile widened. She winked at Smidge. “Princesses can fight too, you know. Some are just as brave as knights.”
Smidge considered this for a moment, then shook her head with a small smirk. “Nah. I’d rather be a knight.”
Viva chuckled, lifting her hands in surrender. “Then so be it! But before the adventure begins… how about a photo?”
The little ones exchanged excited glances before nodding eagerly.
“Yes!” Poppy cheered, running up to Viva and wrapping his arms around her waist. Viva already had her phone in hand, ready.
She snapped the selfie, capturing Poppy’s beaming face. Then she extended her hand toward Smidge. Smidge hesitated—just for a second—but then grinned and leaned in.
“Smile, you brave knights!” Viva said as she clicked the perfect shot.
As soon as the photo was taken, Poppy raised his wooden sword high. “Now, to the rescue of the princess!”
“Or maybe...” Viva picked up a fallen branch, striking a playful stance. “The princess can fight too!”
Laughter rang through the garden as their game resumed, their imaginations turning the backyard into a grand battlefield of courage and fun. For a little while, Viva let go of her worries, swept away in a world where knights and princesses fought side by side—and anything felt possible.
*************************
Both men studied each other in silence, as if trying to decipher unspoken words in the dim glow of the room. Cups of coffee—or perhaps something stronger—sat untouched on the table, forgotten in the weight of their meeting.
The Chordwell and Beaumont families had never been allies. Their rivalry was an open secret in the community, a quiet war waged in boardrooms and backchannels. But circumstances had shifted, forcing an uneasy truce. This meeting was no coincidence.
Peppy leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping idly against the table. “So, John Dory,” he said at last, breaking the silence, “you mentioned a proposal.”
John Dory inclined his head, his eyes gleaming with quiet confidence. “That’s right. My family is entering the music business. We’ve had a strong start, but to truly establish ourselves, we need the right connections. And you, Mr. Peppy, have those connections.”
Peppy arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And why exactly should that interest my family?”
John’s smile was slow, knowing—as if he had been waiting for that very question. “Because your family enjoys a… distinguished lifestyle. However, word has it that your fortune isn’t what it once was.” He let the words settle before continuing. “My family has capital. The kind that, with the right connections, won’t just replenish your wealth—it will multiply it. And in doing so, benefit us both.”
Peppy narrowed his eyes, drumming his fingers against the table. “So, what exactly are you proposing? That we become partners?”
John Dory leaned in slightly, his voice taking on a persuasive edge. “Exactly. You provide the connections and the prestige your name carries, and I supply the capital and infrastructure to grow this business exponentially. In time, both families will benefit, and together, we can redefine the music industry in this region.”
Peppy remained silent, his fingers now tapping against the arm of his chair. His gaze stayed locked on John, as if trying to peel back every layer of meaning behind his words. The logic of the deal was undeniable. But the risk? Monumental. Trusting a family that had been more rival than ally for years was not a decision to be made lightly.
At last, he spoke, his tone cool and deliberate. “This all sounds a little too… generous. What is it your family really wants from this alliance, John Dory?”
John held his smile, but there was a flicker of impatience in his eyes. “Nothing but mutual gain, Mr. Peppy. We want legitimacy—prestige—something your family can offer. And you, in turn, need financial stability. It’s a fair deal. We both win, or neither of us does.”
Peppy studied him, measuring each word. “You’ll understand if I find it hard to believe that’s all your family expects in return.”
John nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “That’s fair. Suspicion is natural. But let me put it plainly—my family has only one condition. A safeguard, to ensure neither side betrays the other’s trust.”
Peppy’s fingers stilled. “A safeguard?”
“That’s right.” John straightened in his chair, his tone calm but resolute. “The only way to guarantee harmony between our families is to unite them.”
Peppy’s eyes narrowed. “Speak plainly, John Dory.”
John took a measured sip of his drink, as if savoring the weight of his next words. Then, he set the glass down and met Peppy’s gaze.
“I’m proposing a marriage arrangement. My little sister, Branch, and your son, Poppy. They’re young now, but when the time comes, their union would cement our alliance—and bind our families together for good.”
Peppy leaned back in his chair, processing what he had just heard. “You want to marry my Poppy to your little sister?”
“Exactly.” John pulled out his phone, turning the screen toward Peppy. His smile was warm, but there was a calculated sharpness behind it. “This is an important proposal for me and my family. Believe me, Mr. Peppy, I don’t make this offer lightly.”
Peppy glanced at the screen. A little girl beamed at the camera, her sapphire-blue eyes wide with innocence. The weight of John’s proposition contrasted starkly with the carefree joy in her expression.
“She’s just a child,” Peppy murmured, his voice quieter, more contemplative.
“Just like Poppy,” John replied, his tone firm but free of malice. “They’ll grow up in families that fight for their own. There’s no better way to secure our alliance than through them.”
Silence settled between them as Peppy let the words sink in. The idea was as compelling as it was controversial. He knew his family would balk at such an arrangement, but the reality of their situation left little room for sentiment.
“What do your brothers think of this?”
John exhaled, leaning back slightly. “They trust me to do what’s best. But understand this—Branch is our little star, our sapphire, my baby girl. If you accept this agreement, I expect that when Poppy becomes her husband, he will treat her as she deserves. Otherwise, he’ll have the entire Chordwell family to answer to.”
Peppy’s lips pressed into a thin line. “My Poppy is a polite boy. I have no doubt he’ll grow up to be a fine gentleman.” He sighed, rubbing his temple. “And what will we tell the children?”
John’s smile widened slightly as he arched a brow. “Does that mean you accept?”
“That depends on how you answer my question.”
John nodded. “Right now, they’re too young to understand love or marriage. My proposal is simple: we let them live their lives without burdening them with this arrangement. If you accept, we’ll sign a contract—one my lawyers have prepared, which you’re free to review to ensure fairness. As for Branch and Poppy, they don’t need to know each other or even be aware of the agreement. Over time, we can gradually introduce the idea to them—little by little—until the day comes when they are ready to marry.”
Peppy considered John’s words, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. Finally, he exhaled and extended a hand. “Let me see that contract.”
A satisfied smile flickered across John’s face as he pulled the papers from his briefcase and handed them over. Peppy fell silent, his eyes meticulously scanning each line. Across from him, John remained composed—watching with the kind of measured patience that only a seasoned negotiator could maintain.
The air between them thickened with unspoken weight. This moment would define the future of two families bound by years of rivalry.
At last, Peppy set the document down, his expression unreadable as he folded his arms. “Everything appears to be in order, John Dory. But I should warn you of something.”
John arched a brow. “I’m listening.”
Peppy’s gaze sharpened. “My family has standards. High ones. I won’t tolerate the Beaumont name being dragged through the mud if this arrangement doesn’t unfold as promised.”
John dipped his head, his smile polite but calculated. “Of course, Mr. Peppy. My family holds itself to the same standards. Rest assured, I’ll see to it that both sides honor this agreement.”
Peppy let out another slow sigh, then reached for the pen John extended. With a practiced hand, he signed, his elegant script sealing the pact. The quiet scratch of ink against paper echoed in the room—a sound that marked the turning of history.
John took the pen next, adding his own signature before offering his hand. Peppy accepted, their handshake firm, final.
“Then we have an agreement,” John said, his smile edged with both diplomacy and victory.
Peppy nodded, his gaze unwavering. “But remember this, John—if this deal fails to benefit my family as you’ve promised, I won’t be lenient.”
John let out a low chuckle, more a gesture of courtesy than amusement. “The same goes for you, Mr. Peppy.”
Both men rose, gathering their belongings as the conversation reached its natural end. The deal was done.
As they stepped out of the office, Peppy halted in front of a window overlooking the back garden. Below, Poppy played with Viva and Smidge, his laughter ringing through the air as he brandished a wooden stick like a sword. The sight brought a sudden pang to Peppy's chest. Had he done the right thing in deciding his son’s future for him?
John, noticing the pause, stepped beside him. “He’s a lively boy,” he remarked, watching the scene unfold. “I’m sure he’ll make an excellent husband for my sister.”
Peppy said nothing, his gaze lingering on his son’s carefree innocence. “I just hope this arrangement doesn’t take away what I love most, John.”
John nodded, his usual easy demeanor giving way to something more solemn. “If there’s one thing we both know, it’s that our families have endured too many struggles. This isn’t a sacrifice—it’s a step toward something better.”
Peppy finally turned away from the window and nodded, though the doubt still sat heavy in his mind.
In the garden, Poppy hesitated mid-swing, as if sensing unseen eyes upon him. He glanced up, locking eyes with his father for a fleeting moment before laughing and diving back into his game.
Peppy exhaled slowly, then turned to follow John out the front door—leaving behind the echoes of childhood laughter and a decision that would shape the future of both families forever.