After dropping Nara off at her penthouse, Arka went to meet his grandfather. If there was any way to call off this arranged marriage, Arka would do anything. If only Nara were a sweet, obedient girl, Arka wouldn't be this stressed out.
Arka took another car; the one he'd used earlier had already been sent to the car wash. Throughout the drive, his brows remained knitted, showing just how annoyed he was.
When he arrived at the office, Arka hurried upstairs to the room where his grandfather was.
"Call off this arranged marriage," he said abruptly.
Fahri glanced at Arka without interest. "Can't," he replied briefly and firmly.
"She's a village girl who can't sit still for even a second. She doesn't even want this arranged marriage."
Fahri closed the report he was reading. "Want? This isn't about what either of you wants. It's about your duty as heirs."
Arka sighed. "Seriously, what's so great about her?" he complained.
"There is something I need to get."
Arka stared at his grandfather. Ambition and greed still shone in those old eyes. He'd always been that way. If he thought something wasn't profitable, he'd throw it away—even if it was his own descendant.
Arka turned and walked toward the door. Before he could actually leave, he heard his grandfather say something.
"This is all for the good of the company."
Arka didn't turn around or stop. He walked out with a blank expression. Meeting Nara had made him forget what Fahri Wijaya was really like.
His thoughts drifted to what had happened eight years ago, when he was still nineteen. It had been the turning point in the life of a young man named Arkana Wijaya.
Arka stared out the window of the law firm's office. His heart truly felt empty. He hated her and missed her terribly. She had been the person he leaned on, confided in, and who had even helped him find his dream. But that was all in the past. Eight years ago, Arka had lost the person he leaned on, confided in, and his dream as well.
"Damn it," he muttered.
Nara looked around the penthouse as she explored it. Honestly, Arka wasn't entirely wrong—she did feel like a country bumpkin in a big city like this. Maybe it was because, all this time, her entire world had been limited to her village.
"I don't know what to do." Nara was thinking about finding something to keep herself busy. As a village girl, she was used to doing chores both inside and outside the house.
Nara surveyed every room in Arka's penthouse. It was so clean that everything gleamed. "Maybe I should cook."
Nara headed for the kitchen Arka had shown her earlier. She started by opening the refrigerator. Her brows furrowed when she found only a few bottles of water inside. There were no vegetables, no fruit, and no other cooking ingredients either.
"Typical guy," she muttered.
Nara opened her phone, whose left side was cracked. She opened Maps and searched for a minimart or market nearby.
After a while, she found a traditional market that wasn't too far away on foot. Nara smiled happily. Besides getting groceries, she could also see the city up close. Earlier, while riding in that speeding car, she hadn't been able to enjoy the view through its windows.
Nara stepped into the elevator and rode it downstairs. If anyone asked how she knew how to use an elevator, she had simply watched a tutorial video online. Even so, it still took calmness and courage to avoid looking awkward and embarrassing herself.
Nara finally reached the apartment lobby and began walking, following Maps to the market.
Nara looked up at the towering buildings from below. It was like people in high positions being placed in high rooms as well—you could imagine how they looked down at their subordinates.