Naya arrived back at Adam's company building at two o'clock in the afternoon. His secretary directed her to a large room next to his office, and she saw his name on a sign on the desk. Did he give her a room before she presented her report?
"Whatever you need, just call me on the intercom." The secretary spoke amiably, interrupting Naya's thoughts, and left.
Naya moved closer and gazed raptly at the plaque. Underneath her name, in smaller letters, it read: Executive Director. She smiled. She couldn't believe her luck. She raised her arm and crossed it, giving Alfa a banana.
"Who needs you, you miserable prick?" She said to herself, and sat down. She turned on the computer on her desk and started typing up her report. But she couldn't help thinking that she would soon be the owner of it all. She would live a life of perks and luxuries she had never dreamed of. And she wanted Alfa to know that. This wedding represented her freedom. She would be free of her father.
The hours passed quickly, and she finished the report two hours later, called her secretary on the intercom, asked her to print it out and give it to her boss, and then left for home.
She sorted out a black dress and put it in her bag to change for lunch at the company the next day.
Her father seemed happy, and her mother, submissive as ever, rejoiced in the satisfaction of father and daughter.
Until Naya decided she couldn't live without teasing her father one last time.
"You look happy, Dad."
"You too."
"I think every bride should feel happy as her wedding approaches. What's your reason?"
"The same reason as my daughter. It's a joy to see my only daughter getting married."
"Interesting, Dad. But answer my question. How much did you sell me for?"
Naya's father closed his eyes and dropped his cutlery on the table, making an unnecessary noise. Naya's mother gave her a disapproving look. And that was unusual.
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said."
"Do you think I held an auction and sold you to the highest bidder?"
"Exactly."
Naya's father stood up, his eyes blazing with indignation.
"One day, you'll lose that arrogance, you'll come back, and you'll apologize to me for your insult." He said, and left.
Anna looked calmly at her mother.
"How much did he earn, Mom?"
Naya's mother also looked indignant.
"Why do you think that about your father?"
"Am I wrong?"
Naya's mother also stood up.
"You're going to wash the dinner pot by yourself tonight, Naya, to reflect on your misbehavior. Your father paid a dowry of one hundred thousand dollars for your fiancé. That's tradition. And you may have a lot of complaints about your father, he's not perfect, but he's always been a correct man who upholds tradition. He would never accept a penny from your fiancé." She said, and left.
Naya stood alone in the dining room, her face burning with shame. She could never have imagined anything like this.
Naya was hating herself. Why had she put herself in the position of asking her father for forgiveness? For her, it was the worst situation. She was Luna, the queen, she shouldn't have to apologize to her subjects. But she knew that if she didn't, her mother would never speak to her again.
She spent the night worrying about how she could fix the situation without having to go through the embarrassment, and none of the options her mind presented her with freed her from feeling humiliated.
She only slept for two hours, and her alarm clock rang.
She put on some heavy makeup and left for work.
Before arriving at the building, she bought some cigars, the brand her father preferred, and headed for work. She didn't see Adam and went straight to her office.
When she turned on her computer, there was a list of tasks she needed to complete.
She realized that they were administrative tasks, and that her fiancé was training her to resolve the issues most often passed on by the company's superior. She liked the job. She was even more passionate about ergonomics and wanted to continue in that profession. She could combine it with management. But she wouldn't abandon her dream.
At lunchtime, her secretary knocked on the door and told her that her boss was waiting for her in the building's parking lot.
Naya changed her clothes, touched up her makeup and went out.
She couldn't read in her fiancé's eyes what Adam thought of her outfit, because he barely looked at her, and after opening the door for her to get in, he went to the driver's side and drove off.
She thought it was inelegant, but she was so interested in humiliating him for accepting a dowry to marry her that the insult at that moment was no longer important.
"How far is the restaurant?" She asked, breaking the silence.
He frowned.
"Restaurant?"
"Yes. A place where people usually sit at tables to have meals..."
Adam was silent for a while.
"You're not very good at understanding ironies, are you?" He finally said, and before she could answer, he continued. "I never said I'd take you to a restaurant. And no. It's not far. Fifteen minutes, and we'll be there."
"Good. Then we have time to talk before we meet your special someone."
"Keep it short."
"How many times have you been married?"
"What's the purpose of this question?"
"To know the approximate number of your fortune."
Adam frowned.
"Miss, I think you're suffering from some kind of dementia..."
"If you asked for a hundred thousand dollars to marry each of your wives, and you've been married at least five times, we have five hundred thousand dollars."
Adam began to enjoy himself.
"Do you think I asked your father for a dowry to marry you?"
"I don't know if you did, but accepting a dowry to marry a queen, who, just by being who I am, would make your fortune larger, is immoral."
Adam found it hard to hold back his smile. Suddenly, he was happy. Naya wouldn't be as boring as he'd thought.
"Your father is a correct and traditional man, Naya. It would be an insult to him if I refused your dowry."
"You didn't mind being a hundred thousand dollars richer."
"I didn't mind."
"What if I tell you now that I don't want to marry you anymore?"
"I'll give the money back to your father, to make another suitor a hundred thousand dollars richer."
Naya was frustrated. She had expected an outburst of indignation from her fiancé, but he seemed untouchable.
"You talk about a hundred thousand dollars as much as I talk about a hundred dollars."