Tangled Traditions and Truths

By Robin Reid

Amara thought her life was hers to design—until an arranged marriage upends her future. Caught between the weight of family expectations and her own dreams, she's thrust into a world of lavish estates, high society, and a fiancé she barely knows. Alexander Beaumont, the heir to a vast fortune, is as mysterious as he is distant. With every polite conversation and stifling social event, Amara feels the chasm between them grow. Yet behind his cool exterior, there's a hidden world that beckons her to look closer. When Amara stumbles upon a secret room filled with Alexander's private thoughts and memories, she uncovers a vulnerability that changes everything. Could the man who seems bound by tradition be hiding a heart that longs for freedom just like hers? With the pressure mounting and their futures entwined, Amara must decide: Will she embrace the life that's been laid out for her, or fight to rewrite her own story? Perfect for fans of slow-burn romance, heart-wrenching secrets, and the struggle to find yourself in a world of expectations, Tangled Traditions and Truths will pull you into a journey of love, identity, and the power of discovering what lies beneath the surface.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robin Reid
• Release date: Sep 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227170064

Book preview

Chapter 1:

The words hung in the air like an oppressive fog, suffocating every hope and aspiration I had once clung to with such fervor. I could feel my chest tightening, a vice of anxiety and disillusionment squeezing the breath from my lungs. I glanced out the window, the familiar view of our quiet street suddenly seeming foreign and distant, as though the life I had known was slipping away, piece by piece.

My father’s voice was a steady, reassuring cadence that contrasted sharply with the turmoil roiling inside me. You’re a grown woman now, Amara. This is part of our heritage, a tradition that has been honored for generations. We want what’s best for you, and Alexander is...

...a good match, I finished the sentence in my head, though I didn’t dare speak the words aloud. The sentiment was clear, but it felt cold and hollow. A good match for whom, exactly? My parents’ dreams, their ambitions, or my own fragile hopes?

My mother’s hand reached out, her fingers brushing mine with a tenderness that seemed so out of place in this moment of upheaval. Her eyes were soft, yet there was a steely determination behind them. We’ve arranged a meeting with Alexander next week, she continued. We want you to get to know him before making any decisions. We believe that once you spend some time together, you’ll see the value in this union.

I nodded absently, my mind reeling with a chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions. The idea of meeting Alexander Beaumont was like stepping into a world where I was an outsider. What could I possibly say to him? What would he think of me, a girl who had been thrust into this arrangement against her will?

Can’t we talk about this? I finally managed to ask, my voice trembling despite my efforts to remain composed. Can’t I at least have some say in what happens to my future?

My father’s gaze was unyielding, a reflection of the unwavering traditions that bound our family. We’ve made our decision. This is for the greater good of our family and your future. Alexander’s family is highly respected. This is an opportunity we can’t afford to pass up.

The finality in his tone was like a heavy door slamming shut, leaving no room for further discussion. I felt a pang of frustration, a desperate urge to break free from these constraints that seemed to suffocate my very essence. I wanted to shout, to scream, to make them understand how this was tearing me apart. But all that came out was a resigned sigh, my shoulders sagging in defeat.

The evening settled over us, an oppressive blanket of silence enveloping the house. I retreated to my room, the sanctuary that had once been a place of comfort now feeling like a prison. My mind raced as I paced the floor, trying to grasp the reality of what had been decided for me. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like a pawn in a game I didn’t understand, with no control over the pieces moving around me.

The thought of Alexander Beaumont brought a flutter of apprehension. What kind of man was he? What would he expect from me? The little I knew about him was based on whispered conversations and brief mentions in society columns. To be bound to such a mysterious figure, to share a life with him, was both intriguing and terrifying. Would he be kind? Would he understand my fears and uncertainties? Or would he see me as merely another piece to be maneuvered in the grand scheme of his world?

I sank onto the edge of my bed, staring at the space where I had dreamt of my future. It was a canvas now smeared with uncertainty, each stroke of destiny feeling like it was beyond my control. I wondered if Alexander had ever been faced with such a moment of upheaval, if he had ever felt the sting of dreams slipping through his fingers.

As the night deepened, I found myself lost in a sea of restless thoughts. The echoes of my parents’ voices, their reassurances and expectations, became a haunting melody that refused to fade. I longed for escape, for a way to rewrite the script that had been handed to me. But with each passing moment, the reality of the situation became clearer, and the walls of my room felt like they were closing in tighter.

In the midst of this chaos, I made a silent vow to myself. I would meet Alexander, I would try to understand this new chapter that was being thrust upon me. But I would not surrender completely to the fate that had been prescribed. There had to be a way to navigate this path without losing myself in the process.

The first light of dawn crept through my window, casting a pale glow over the room. I looked at the shadows dancing on the walls and made a quiet promise to hold onto my dreams, no matter how tangled they became with the threads of duty and expectation. The journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but I was determined to face them with the strength and resolve that had always been a part of me.

The future was an unwritten story, and though it was being shaped by forces beyond my control, I resolved to find my own voice within its pages.

The hours that followed felt like an endless night, each tick of the clock amplifying the unease that gnawed at my insides. I retreated to my room, the sanctuary that had always been my refuge, yet tonight it felt like a gilded cage. I paced back and forth, the rhythm of my steps a futile attempt to escape the oppressive weight of the impending arrangement.

Outside, the sky was a deep, velvety blue, stars scattered like shards of broken glass across its expanse. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of my window, the chill a stark contrast to the warmth of the tears that had begun to prick at my eyes. I had always imagined a future painted with my own colors, a canvas stretched wide with possibilities. But now, that canvas was being smudged with hues that belonged to someone else, leaving me grappling with a reality I had never wished to face.

The promise of meeting Alexander Beaumont next week was both an invitation and a sentence. I could almost picture him—a figure of polished charm and effortless sophistication—someone who would glide into my life with all the grace of a prince stepping onto a grand stage. But behind that image lay an unknown world, a realm that was as alien to me as the prospect of this marriage itself.

I thought of the countless hours I had spent daydreaming about my future, imagining scenarios where I was the architect of my own destiny. I had envisioned studying abroad, exploring cities that danced with vibrant cultures and languages, chasing dreams that sparkled with the promise of new beginnings. Now, those dreams seemed as distant as the stars outside my window, twinkling mockingly in their unreachable brilliance.

My heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia for the life I had imagined. I was caught in a disorienting whirlwind of emotion, struggling to find a semblance of stability amidst the chaos. My parents had always been my rock, their guidance a steady hand that had shaped my life. But now, their choices felt like chains that bound me to a future I had never envisioned.

I sank onto the edge of my bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the harsh reality that had unfolded before me. The silence of my room was heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken fears and unresolved questions. What if Alexander Beaumont wasn’t the man I had hoped for? What if this marriage, meant to be a union of honor and tradition, became a cage that stifled my spirit?

As I lay back against the pillows, the soft rustle of the sheets was a soothing lullaby against my turbulent thoughts. My gaze fell upon the framed photographs on my bedside table—images of laughter-filled moments with friends, family gatherings brimming with joy, and snapshots of a life that now seemed like a distant memory.

In the midst of this turmoil, a flicker of defiance stirred within me. I had always prided myself on my independence, on my ability to carve out my own path despite the constraints that sometimes sought to confine me. The thought of surrendering to this arrangement, of relinquishing my dreams to fit a mold crafted by others, felt like an abandonment of everything I had ever stood for.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as if to draw in strength from the very air around me. The future might be uncertain, but I was determined to face it with the courage that had always defined me. I would meet Alexander, I would see where this path led, but I would do so with the resolve to protect the essence of who I was.

The rustle of the sheets seemed to blend with the distant hum of the city outside, a reminder that life continued to move forward, even as I grappled with my own uncertainties. My thoughts drifted to the meeting with Alexander, the unknown man who would soon become an integral part of my life. What would he be like? Would he understand the dreams that flickered within me, or would he see only the dutiful daughter of a prestigious family, a pawn in a grand game of tradition?

The night wore on, the shadows lengthening as the hours passed. I found a strange comfort in the stillness, in the way the world outside seemed to hold its breath along with me. In that quiet space, amidst the uncertainty and fear, there was a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this meeting with Alexander wasn’t the end of my story, but rather a new chapter, one that held the potential for unexpected twists and turns.

I resolved to face whatever came with an open heart and an unwavering spirit. If this was to be my path, then I would walk it with the grace and strength that had always been my guiding light. The future was a vast, uncharted expanse, and though I stood on the threshold of an unknown journey, I was determined to navigate it with the courage of my convictions.

Chapter 2:

As we settled into the plush armchairs, the conversation continued to hover over the surface of genuine connection. Alexander’s responses were measured, his words carefully chosen, as if each sentence had been meticulously rehearsed. His interest seemed polite but distant, his eyes flickering occasionally towards the window as if seeking escape from the confines of our interaction. I, too, found myself struggling to maintain the veneer of calm, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap.

The silence between us was a living entity, palpable and charged. It was not the comfortable quiet that sometimes settles between two people, but rather an oppressive presence that filled the space with unspoken thoughts and unvoiced concerns. Every attempt to bridge the gap between us felt like a cautious step on a tightrope, where one wrong move could send us tumbling into the abyss of awkwardness.

Alexander spoke of his family’s business ventures, his tone smooth but lacking any real enthusiasm. My father has been in the real estate sector for decades, he said, his voice even. We’re currently expanding into international markets. It’s been an interesting challenge.

I nodded, trying to show interest, though the subject matter felt as foreign to me as the grand surroundings. That sounds... impressive, I managed, feeling the words slip out without much conviction. I’m sure it keeps you quite busy.

It does, he agreed, a faint smile touching his lips. But I believe in maintaining a balance. It’s important to find time for personal interests, though I must admit, my schedule doesn’t always allow for much of that.

His smile was fleeting, almost mechanical, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the man behind the façade. What were his passions, his dreams? Did he, too, feel like a pawn in a game that he hadn’t chosen? The questions swirled in my mind, but the formality of our meeting kept them locked away, buried beneath a veneer of politeness.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics—hobbies, favorite books, and recent travels. Yet, even as we exchanged these pleasantries, there was an undercurrent of tension that neither of us could quite ignore. His responses were polite but brief, his mannerisms courteous yet distant. It was as if we were both playing roles in a script that neither of us had written, the lines rehearsed but lacking in genuine emotion.

I watched him closely, trying to gauge his true feelings beneath the practiced charm. His gaze occasionally met mine, and in those brief moments, I saw a flicker of something—perhaps weariness or resignation. It was quickly masked by his composed exterior, but it left me wondering about the man who stood before me. Was he as resigned to this arrangement as I was, or was there something more beneath the surface?

As the conversation drew to a close, Alexander stood and offered a courteous smile. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, Amara. I look forward to our next meeting.

I rose to my feet, offering a smile that felt as strained as the conversation had been. Likewise, Alexander. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.

As I made my way out of the grand estate, the oppressive weight of the encounter lingered. The walls of the mansion seemed to close in around me, their grandeur now a stark reminder of the vast divide that lay between us. The sky outside was still heavy with clouds, the promise of rain unfulfilled. It was as though the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something that had yet to unfold.

The drive home was a blur, the landscape slipping past my window like a series of disconnected images. I felt adrift, caught between the world I had known and the one that was being thrust upon me. The encounter with Alexander had been an exercise in polite distance, a ritualistic dance that had done little to bridge the chasm between us.

As I returned to the familiarity of my room, the weight of the day seemed to settle on my shoulders, a tangible reminder of the journey that lay ahead. I was left alone with my thoughts, the silence of my room filled with the echoes of the encounter and the uncertainty of what was to come. The initial meeting with Alexander Beaumont had done little to ease my apprehension; instead, it had only deepened the chasm of uncertainty and trepidation that lay between us.

As the afternoon wore on, the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the room and bathing everything in a muted, golden light. The changing light seemed to echo the shift in our conversation, which had grown quieter, more strained as the minutes passed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were both performing—playing parts in a scene that neither of