I Fell In Love With An Archibald

The large office windows allowed very little light from the city outside to enter the dimly lit room. With her hands protectively resting on her growing belly, Stephanie sat tensely opposite Alfred Archibald. She thought the walls were closing in on her because of how opulent everything was around her.

"Alfred, we need to talk," Stephanie said. "This... whatever we had, it has to end."

Alfred's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "What do you mean, end? Are you serious?"

Attempting to calm herself, Stephanie inhaled deeply. "I have made my decision, and I'm staying with Victor. The baby... it's his. I can't keep lying to him, or to myself."

"You're wrong," Alfred said. He stood up, slowly walking around the desk towards her. "That child is mine, Stephanie. You know it as well as I do."

Stephanie's eyes filled with tears, but she refused to back down. "No, Alfred. I'm done. I intend to mend my relationship with my family, my husband. This must end.”

Anger twisted Alfred's face. He extracted a shining knife from his desk drawer. “Do you really believe you can ignore me and move on? After everything?"

Stephanie's horrified eyes grew wider. "Please, Alfred, do not do this! Think about the consequences!"

There was a noticeable tension in the space. Around the knife handle, Alfred's knuckles turned white. He breathed in short, furious gasps. With a spat, he raised the knife and said, "You can't just leave me like this." "You just can't.”

Stephanie stepped back, panic flooding her. "Alfred, no! Stop!"

However, it was already too late. Before Stephanie could make any moves, Alfred rushed towards her blinded in range and put the knife in her abdomen.

The room seemed to go quiet and freeze, Stephanie's gasp broke that silence. She stumbled back, clutching her stomach, blood seeping through her fingers. “Alfred…, what have you done?”

Alfred's pale face betrayed his shock at what he'd done. With the knife covered in blood in his hand, he took a step back. Startled, he muttered, "Stephanie…. I'm sorry”

She fell to the ground, gasping for air, her eyes wide with pain and shock. Alfred staggered out of the office after suffering a panic attack, leaving her alone as her life slowly evaporated. The empty room reverberated with the sound of the door slamming behind him.

That night left a scar on everyone involved, its shadow lingering over the years.

Now, twenty-five years later, Victor Jones sat in the back of a taxi, looking out at the blurry skyscrapers that comprised the city. His fingers tapped his knee nervously as financial troubles weighed heavily on him.

He was on his way to a desperate meeting with Alfred Archibald, a man renowned for his wealth and heartless business dealings, hoping to salvage his failing business, escape his growing debt, and silence the constant calls from creditors.

The cab pulled up to the imposing Archibald estate. Victor's stomach knotted as he stepped out and approached the grand entrance. He couldn't believe he was here, seeking help from a man like Alfred. The butler led him through opulent halls to a study, where Alfred sat behind a massive desk, his sharp eyes fixed on Victor.

"Mr. Jones," Alfred greeted with a smooth, calculating smile. "Do sit down."

Victor sank into the chair, realizing the seriousness of the situation. "Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Archibald," he said. "I—"

Alfred interrupted, squinting. "Don't waste any more time. You're quite in a predicament, aren't you?”

After hesitating, Victor nodded. "Yes. My business failed, and the debts... they're piling up. I don't know how much longer I can keep the house, let alone cater for my wife and daughter–"

Alfred leaned back, fingers steepled. "And what do you want from me? A loan? A miracle?"

Victor swallowed hard. "Yes, I was hoping you could... help me. Just to get back on my feet. I'll pay you back, I swear."

Alfred's cold smile widened. "I'm not in the business of handouts, Mr. Jones. But, perhaps, we can make a deal."

Victor's heart pounded. "What kind of deal?"

Alfred's eyes gleamed with something unsettling. "Your daughter, what is her name and how old is she?’

Victor hesitated “Uhmm, Daphne just turned 19 some months ago. But I don't understand how that has to do with anything”

Alfred cut him short, “Do you happen to have a picture of her?”

Victor's heart sank, as reached into his pocket, grabbed his phone and entered his gallery swiping left and right for a picture of his daughter. “Here..she is, this is Daphne”

Alfred chuckled lightly and smiled mischievously “She's young, attractive, and... in need of stability. My son, Arthur, could provide that. A marriage would secure your debts and ensure her future."

Victor's breath caught. "Marriage? Daphne’s just a girl. She doesn’t even know Arthur!"

Alfred's smile faded, replaced by a chilling calm. "She will, in time. This is about survival, Mr. Jones. For you and your family."

Victor clenched his fists, flashing back to those restless nights. the worry that if he couldn't pay off the debt, he would lose everything—even his freedom.

He remembered the creditor's dire warning, "We'll have no choice but to press charges if you can't pay.” The thought of prison, leaving Daphne and Joyce, his wife alone, haunted him.

"But... marrying her off like this?" Victor's voice trembled, torn between desperation and parental protectiveness. "It's wrong. She's my little girl."

Alfred's gaze hardened. "It's pragmatic. Think about it. She'll have a life of luxury, far better than the one you can provide now. Or would you prefer to see her struggle in poverty, or worse, visit you in prison?"

Victor's face paled, the harsh reality crashing down on him. He stood abruptly, the chair scraping back. "I need time to think."

Alfred nodded, unruffled. "Of course. But remember, this offer won't stand indefinitely. Time is a luxury neither of us can afford."

Victor staggered out, feeling as though the estate's walls were closing in around him. The weight of the situation hung heavily on his shoulders as he made his way back to the taxi.

Did he really think he could save them all by trading his daughter's future? His stomach turned at the thought, but the threat of jail time and total ruin was very real. Head in his hands, he climbed into the taxi, feeling completely stuck between an unavoidable catastrophe and an impossible decision.

Victor stumbled into his modest home, feeling the weight of Alfred Archibald’s offer pressing on him. Joyce looked up from the kitchen, concern etched on her face.

“Victor, you’re home early. How did the meeting go?”

Victor’s face was tense. “Not well, Joyce. We need to talk.”

Joyce’s worry deepened. “What happened? You look like something’s wrong.”

Victor took her hands. “Alfred offered me a deal—Daphne has to marry his son to clear our debts.”

Joyce’s eyes widened. “Marry Daphne off? That’s outrageous!”

“I know,” Victor said. “If we refuse, we might lose everything. And if I can’t pay, I could end up in prison.”

Joyce pulled him close. “We’ll figure this out. We’ve faced worse. Don’t decide anything without me.”

Victor nodded, though anxiety remained. The doorbell rang, and Victor stiffened.

He uttered, "I'll get it," as he tried to gather himself. "Hopefully, this isn't more bad news.”

Joyce watched him, concern still evident. “Be careful, honey.”

Turning the knob, Victor saw a tall, dark-skinned man wearing a sharp suit. The man had a very intense gaze.

Victor’s mood completely changed as he stared at the man. “You Bastard!” he screamed.

Victor exploded, and Joyce ran to his side as the sound reverberated through the hallway. The man at the door winced, but his expression remained calm.

Joyce put a soothing hand on Victor's arm and begged, "Victor, please. Hear him out,"

The man spoke steadily while clearing his throat. "Mr. Jones, I wasn't here to start a fight. I just need to speak with Daphne."

Victor's eyes blazed with anger. "You have no right to be here, Simon. After everything you've done."

Simon's gaze softened and his eyes fluttered with real regret. "I truly regret what I did, and I am aware of it. All I want is a chance to express my regret and make things right.”

Joyce, sensing the intensity of the situation, looked between the two men. "Victor, let him speak. If Daphne wants to hear him out, she should have that choice."

With a clenched jaw, Victor moved away reluctantly. "All right. However, you'll have to deal with me if you offend her in any way."

The sound attracted Daphne downstairs just then. The instant she saw Simon, her eyes grew wide with shock. "What are you doing here?”

Simon moved forward a little hesitantly. "I know I don't deserve your pardon, Daphne. However, I must express my regret for how I handled you."

Daphne crossed her arms, her expression guarded but clearly pained. "An apology? After everything you put me through?"

Joyce stepped in gently. "Victor, let Daphne and Simon have their private conversation."

Victor's gaze hardened. "Fine, but if you put your hands on my daughter again, you'll regret it."

Simon nodded appreciatively and stepped inside, his posture humble. Joyce led Victor to the living room, leaving Daphne and Simon in the hallway.

Daphne's emotions churned, the memories of their tumultuous relationship flooding back. "Words won't change the past, Simon. You hurt me deeply."

Simon nodded, his eyes filled with regret. "Because I was insecure, I took it out on you. I've been going to therapy in an attempt to become a better person. It doesn't excuse what I did, but I wanted you to know that I'm getting better.”

Daphne's eyes welled with tears. “Are you really thinking that saying sorry will make everything better?”

Simon's voice cracked. "I despise myself for knowing that. I regret the hurt I gave you every day. Daphne, you have my undying love. I always have, which is why realizing what I did to you hurts so badly."

Daphne inhaled deeply, her determination unwavering. "Simon, I'm glad you're attempting to change. However, it will require much more than just words for me to accept it. Right now, I need space."

Simon, feeling desperate, took a step closer and reached out to touch her arm. "Please, Daphne. I want to make it right. I need you to understand how much I've changed."

Simon leaned closer, attempting to plant a kiss before Daphne could respond. She felt a wave of pain and rage well up inside her as soon as his lips touched hers.

She gave him a hard shove. "How dare you! You think you can just waltz back into my life and make everything better with a kiss?"

Simon staggered back, shock and regret on his face. "Daphne, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

With a mix of hurt and rage, her eyes blazed as she snapped, "Save it." "You can't just return and act as though nothing happened. It's not. You broke me, Simon. And a simple apology isn't enough to fix that."

Simon's face crumpled with guilt. "I understand. I just... I wanted you to know I'm sorry and that I'm trying to be better."

Daphne took a step back. "Just leave, Simon. I can't do this right now."

Simon nodded, defeated. "I'll go. But if you ever want to talk, I'm here."

As Simon turned to leave, he glanced at Victor. "Mr. Jones, I know I don't deserve your trust. But I promise I won't bother Daphne again unless she wants to see me."

Victor's gaze remained stern. "You'd better keep that promise."

Simon departed from the house with a heavy sense of finality as the door closed behind him. Daphne collapsed into a chair, her feelings taking over. Victor and Joyce hurried to her side to console her.

Joyce gave her a tight hug and whispered, "It's okay, sweetheart." "You made the correct decision."

Victor nodded. "We're here for you, Daphne. No matter what."

Daphne looked at her parents, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you. I just... need some time to process all of this."

Having Victor talk to Daphne about Alfred's proposal right after the intense encounter with Simon might make for a powerful scene, showing how much is weighing on her and how her family dynamics are being strained. This conversation could also set the stage for the next day's events.

The Jones family had a renewed sense of unity as they sat together. They were now more bonded than ever, prepared to take on any obstacles that lay ahead, even with the uninvited guest.

Victor, however, knew there was another conversation that needed to happen. He exchanged a worried glance with Joyce, who nodded slightly.

"Daphne," Victor began gently, "there's something else we need to talk about."

Daphne wiped her tears and looked up at her father, her expression weary and strained. "What is it, Dad?"

Victor took a deep breath, his heart heavy. "Earlier today, I met with Alfred Archibald. Our financial situation is dire, and he offered a... solution."

Daphne frowned, her fatigue giving way to confusion. "What kind of solution?"

Victor hesitated, then plunged ahead, the words tasting bitter. "He suggested that in order to pay off our debts, you marry his son, Arthur."

Daphne's voice caught in her throat as her eyes grew wide with shock. "What? Arthur, get married? I've never even met him."

With concern and sympathy in her eyes, Joyce grasped Daphne's hand. "Honey, we realize this is a lot to process. However, things are desperate here. Victor and I wanted to talk to you about it before deciding on anything."

Shaking her head, Daphne's voice broke with a combination of desperation and rage. "This is unbelievable. Simon came first, and now this? "My life is not a pawn in a negotiation."

Victor's voice trembled with guilt as he felt his heart ache at his daughter's pain. "Daphne, we want to avoid pressuring you into doing anything. However, we must weigh all of our options. This might be a way to save our family from ruin."

Daphne stood up, pacing the room, her emotions raw and intense. "How can you even think about this? You're talking about my future, my happiness! I've already been through so much with Simon. Now you want me to marry a stranger?"

Joyce's voice was soft, her own tears beginning to flow. "We understand, sweetheart. We are sorry that this has happened. But there are no other options. We do not wish for you to suffer further harm than you have already endured.”