Cassy's POV
The moment had come, and I was ready to face it head-on. 
I mustered the courage to meet this guy, my palms sweaty with anticipation and my heart pounding in my chest. I descended the stairs and saw him: Carlos Antalan, about five foot five, with a white-yellowish complexion that made me wonder if he was unwell. His bald head gleamed under the chandelier, and he was dressed in a stiff long sleeve shirt that seemed a little too formal for the occasion. Altair, by contrast, would tower over him, I thought to myself, unable to suppress the comparison. 
Carlos smiled at me, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and stood up, handing me a bouquet and chocolates. "For you, Cassy," he said, his voice smooth but lacking warmth. 
"Thank you, you don't have to," I replied, forcing a polite smile as we took our seats at the dining table. 
The table was impeccably set, the China gleaming and the silverware perfectly aligned. My mom's favorite centerpiece adorned the table, and I could see that no expense had been spared to impress Carlos. The whole setting felt foreign, almost sterile, as if we were playing roles in a staged production. 
Mom started the conversation, her voice filled with feigned enthusiasm. "How's the travel here? I hope we didn't disturb your busy schedule," she said, her eyes twinkling with a curiosity that seemed out of place. 
"The roads here are narrower than I anticipated. Is the HOA allowed road parking here?" Carlos added, looking around the room as if inspecting our lifestyle. 
"The HOA barely acts on it," my father replied, a hint of irritation in his voice. 
"I am friends with the mayor; maybe I can talk to him and do something about this," Carlos boasted, puffing his chest out. 
My eyes narrowed at his arrogance. Who was he to come into our home and offer to "fix" our neighborhood? But I bit my tongue, knowing that this was not the time to challenge him. 
"Carlos, honey, meet the youngest of my children, meet Cassandra Lexi, we call her Cassy," my mother introduced, her voice dripping with pride. 
Carlos reached for my hand, attempting to kiss it. My instincts kicked in, and I quickly grabbed his hand, shaking it instead. 
"Nice to meet you, Carlos. You can call me Cassy, like everyone else," I said, my voice firm. 
"Sure, baby," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. 
I recoiled at his words, my skin crawling at his audacity. Who the hell did he think he was? Anger bubbled up within me, but I controlled it, forcing a smile. 
"Sorry?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. 
"Oh, you said Cassy. I thought I heard you say baby, my bad," Carlos said, laughing it off. 
I stared at him, disbelief mingling with disgust. This was the man my family wanted me to marry? I felt a wave of despair wash over me, but I pushed it down, determined to get through this meal without losing my composure. 
The conversation continued, but I found myself tuning out, my mind whirling with thoughts and emotions. I knew I had to endure this meeting, to play my part, but it was clear that Carlos was not the person I wanted to be with. 
The facade of politeness wore thin, and as the meal progressed, I realized that I would have to make a stand. I would not be bullied into a relationship that went against everything I believed in. 
But for now, I would play along, biding my time until I could find a way to assert my independence and follow my own path. 
The conversation turned to casual topics as we picked at our food, but I felt the undercurrent of tension in the room. I decided to steer the conversation toward Carlos's profession, attempting to navigate the situation with a combination of sweetness and subtle barbs. 
"So what do you do for a living, Carlos?" I asked, my voice dripping with false curiosity, trying to find a way to create an argument so he'll be dissuaded in pursuing me. 
"I own multiple businesses in the area, mostly restaurants and convenience stores," he replied, puffing out his chest with pride. 
"Impressive," I said, tilting my head slightly. "But out of curiosity, did you build your businesses from scratch, or were they handed to you on a silver platter?" 
"Initially no, my parents provided me with the initial capital money," he replied, a touch of defensiveness in his voice. 
"Oh, really?" I said, my eyes widening in mock astonishment. "So you mean to say that the capital for your businesses came from your parents? How enterprising of you." My voice was sugar-sweet, but the sarcasm was unmistakable. 
"Well, yes! They provided the initial funding, and I've worked hard to grow the businesses from there," he explained, his voice tinged with irritation. 
"It's wonderful to see young people such as yourself succeeding," my sister, Star, interjected, apparently missing the tension between us. 
I turned to her, my smile wide but my eyes cold. "Oh yes, it's like a little boy building a sandcastle with the help of Mommy and Daddy. How... ambitious!" I said, the sweetness in my voice belying the cutting words. 
"Tell me, Carlos, do your parents also help you with your daily decisions, or do you manage to make some on your own?" I asked, my voice dripping with sweetness, yet the underlying tone was unmissable. 
"Cassy! That is enough!" My father interjected, his voice strict. 
Carlos seemed to shrug off my barb, replying, "Oh, they trust me to make my own decisions, but they give me advice from time to time." 
I shook my head slightly, amazed at his inability to catch on. "Of course, dear," I replied, my voice gentle. "It must be so comforting to follow the path laid out by your parents, never having to take real risks or make tough decisions on your own. How secure it must feel." 
"Cassy! Please keep the conversation pleasant, dear!" My mom pleaded, a note of desperation in her voice. 
Carlos's face fell as he finally seemed to catch on. "W-Wait, are you making fun of me?" he stammered, his face turning red. 
I smiled at him, my voice still sweet but my words cutting. "Phew! Took you long enough! I thought with your business prowess you'd catch on sooner!" I said, my frustration bubbling to the surface. 
"Well, I don't see what's so funny about building a successful business with family support," he said, genuinely confused. His innocence almost made me feel sorry for him. But there was no time to let up now. 
My sister chimed in, her voice gentle. "Maybe we should change the subject? This is getting a bit heated." 
I leaned back in my chair, a smile playing on my lips. "Oh, I don't mind a bit of heat! I was on the debate team, after all. I'm not a fan of boring conversations," I paused, my grin widening. "But I'll indulge you all. What would you like to talk about?" 
My father, seemingly pleased with my confidence, added, "Cassy is really a bright child, and she's good at debates." 
I looked at him, warmth spreading in my chest. I almost melted at his praise, but I knew I couldn't yield now. I had to stand firm, make my point, and not let anyone manipulate my life. 
I forced a smile and reached for my glass, raising it in a toast. "To family, and to our guests. May we find common ground and enjoy our time together." 
The atmosphere remained strained, but Carlos seemed determined to engage with me again, and I couldn't resist the challenge. 
"I didn't realize you were on the debate team, Cassy. That's quite impressive; it must have honed your ability to argue," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. 
Oh my, isn't he ashamed? I made fun of him, and he decided to come back and be beaten again? 
I tilted my head and smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Carlos. Yes, debate has taught me to recognize when something is being presented as more than it is. Like a self-made success story that started with a hefty bankroll from mommy and daddy," I said, my voice dripping with insincere innocence. 
Carlos looked more irritated, and I knew that round 2 had begun. I was clear that I was winning! 
"Well, family support is nothing to be ashamed of," he replied, his voice weak, the words parroted over and over again. 
"I couldn't agree more," I replied, my voice soft but firm. "It's good to feel supported until they treat you like an investment rather than a person." 
My mother shot me a sharp glare, but I ignored it, my heart pounding in my chest. What the hell? Was this guy completely oblivious? I was bringing my A-material here, and he was shrugging it off! My frustration bubbled up, and I knew it was time to turn up the heat. 
I could hardly resist rolling my eyes. Was that really the best he could come up with? He could have defended his accomplishments, cited examples of his success, or even acknowledged the advantage he'd been given. But instead, he chose the same tired line. 
"Why don't we talk about something else? How about the weather? Or maybe Carlos, you can tell us about your hobbies?" My mom asked, her voice trembling. 
That suggestion might have been dumber than Carlos's repeated response, but it could stem from the panic she was experiencing. Like hell, I would let the momentum die. I should press more! As they say, press it till it hurts. 
I leaned forward, my eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh no! Let's hear more about Carlos's business acumen. I'm genuinely interested in how he managed to take his parents' money and what was it you did again?" I asked him, the sarcasm in my voice so thick you could cut it with a knife. 
My mother's face turned pale, and my father's jaw tightened, but I had no intention of backing down. Carlos was part of a plan that threatened to turn my life upside down, and I would not be controlled by anyone. Even if it meant ruffling a few feathers. 
I could feel the room's tension build as everyone waited for Carlos's response. This was no longer a pleasant dinner conversation; it had turned into a battle of wills. 
I locked eyes with Carlos, my smile unwavering but my resolve steely. This was my life, and I would not be manipulated into a relationship I didn't want. 
Carlos's face was beet red now; he looked angry. This right here? Comedy gold! 
"I've built successful businesses, Cassy. Something I'm very proud of," Carlos said, attempting to reclaim some dignity. 
I leaned back in my chair, a look of mock wonder in my eyes. "Well, we're all very impressed, aren't we?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. 
"Cassy, let's move on. Carlos, do you have plans to expand your business?" Star interjected, clearly trying to steer the conversation to safer territory. 
What the hell, sis? Now he's regained composure and boosted his ego. 
"Yes, actually, I've been looking into new markets; I'm thinking of a supermarket or real estate?" Carlos replied, his voice filled with newfound enthusiasm. 
"As long as mommy and daddy approve, right?" I asked under my breath, unable to resist one more jab. 
"Cassy! Enough!" My mom snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. 
"Enough about me, Cassy, tell me about yourself. Where are you studying? What are your plans for the future?" He asked, attempting a nice diversion. I was almost impressed; it left me without an immediate option, but wait... 
"I'm studying at Me- I mean, Marywood College. It's a humble institution, but it has character," I replied, catching myself just in time. Holy moly! That was close! It would be disastrous if they ever discovered the truth. It would almost end all the plans I have. 
"Marywood, huh? It's a decent school, I've heard," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. 
"Marywood is a lovely place, and Cassy's doing wonderfully there," My mom chimed in, attempting to smooth things over. 
This was the prime opportunity I was looking for; time for a U-turn. I leaned forward, my eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh yeah, that's right. I've always believed that it's not the school, but the student's dedication that determines success," I paused, my eyes fixed on Carlos. "Much like in business, it's not always the initial capital, but the true grit, determination, and the ability to succeed without someone holding your hand that really counts." I said, boom! How's that? You think it's over? He's hit! He looks like he's about to explode but is trying to keep his composure. 
"Well, we all have our paths to success," he replied weakly. His eyes were dull, and his shoulders slumped. The once proud and self-assured business man seemed deflated, the facade of his success pierced by my words. 
"Cassy's been doing some incredible projects at Marywood, right, Cassy?" Star asked, trying once again to shift the conversation to a more neutral topic. 
I turned to my sister, ready to engage, but my mind was still racing with the exchange. The battle wasn't over, not yet. The stakes were too high, and I would not be defeated. 
"Yes, that's right, And I'm learning so much from them, you know? Real hands-on experience, not just relying on theory or inherited advantages," I said, pressing my point without letting up. "I mean, nothing teaches you better than diving head-first into a project on your own, right?" 
"Perhaps we've strayed off topic again," my father said, clearly feeling the tension. 
"No, I'd like to hear more about Cassy's projects. After all, I'm sure they're as unique and impressive as her opinions," Carlos said, his voice edged with something that might have been amusement or irritation. 
I grinned, "Well, Carlos, since you're so interested, let me give you a preview." I paused for dramatic effect, "Actually, I've been working on a fascinating research project at Marywood. It's a comparative study titled 'Entrepreneurial Success: A Comparative Analysis of Self-Made Achievements Versus Inherited Advantages.' The project aims to explore how differential conditions shape one's attitude toward money, success, and the ethics of business." I paused again, my eyes fixed on his. "It's still in the early stages, but the preliminary findings are quite insightful." 
He looked affected by that, greatly. A mixture of curiosity and defensiveness in his eyes. 
"That sounds intriguing," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "Do you have any insights you can share?" 
"Carlos, I'm sure as soon as I give you one, you'll quickly shrug it off or maybe dispel it. But since you asked so nicely," I tilted my head, "The early data suggests that those who build success without inherited advantages tend to have a more empathetic understanding of others' struggles and are often more innovative in their approach." 
My mom looked nervous; she appeared pale. "Oh, maybe we shouldn't get into that. It might be a bit too academic for lunch conversation," she suggested, her voice trembling slightly. 
I could feel the room's tension, but I was far from done. If Carlos thought he could engage in a battle of wits and come out unscathed, he was sorely mistaken. The game had only just begun. 
"Actually, Mom, it's quite relevant. For example, one of our initial observations is that individuals who earn their way often display higher levels of resilience, innovation, and ethical decision-making compared to those who begin with inherited wealth," I said, my tone sweet but cutting. "Take, for instance, a person who started from ground zero, working their way up through the ranks. They are more likely to sympathize with their employees because they know what it feels like to be at the bottom. They can empathize with the struggles and are often more invested in ensuring fair treatment. On the other hand, those who have never faced those struggles might find it difficult to relate, and that might translate into different managerial practices. But of course," I added, smiling at Carlos, "there are exceptions." 
"That's a bold statement, Cassy," Carlos said, his eyes narrowing but with confidence in his voice. "I'd love to read that final paper when it's ready." 
I met his eyes, a glint of challenge in mine. "Oh, I'm sure you'd find it enlightening, Carlos. But be warned, it might challenge some preconceived notions." 
"Well, I think it's wonderful that everyone has such interesting perspectives. Let's enjoy our meal and perhaps discuss something lighter," my father said, clearly trying to end the topic. His attempt to lighten the mood, though well-intended, felt almost hollow in the thick atmosphere. 
"You know, Cassy?" Carlos said, leaning back and studying me with a new intensity. "Your resilience and strong opinions only make me more interested in getting to know you. You're truly one of a kind." 
I couldn't help but feel a stir of uncertainty at his words. Was he mocking me or genuinely interested? "Oh, Carlos, don't be too fascinated. You might find that a strong opinion, guided by principles, can be more than just a passing curiosity." My tone was light, but my words were a clear challenge. 
He laughed, the tension in the room seeming to ease slightly. "Well, Cassy, I think that makes two of us. I also believe in principles, and I think we might have more in common than you think." 
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. The conversation had taken a turn, and I found myself wondering what lay beneath Carlos's polished exterior. Could it be that he was more than just a privileged business man? The thought was unsettling, but also intriguing. 
As the meal continued, the conversation drifted to lighter topics. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had shifted between Carlos and me. Perhaps it was the beginning of understanding or maybe a challenge that neither of us was willing to back down from.