[BL] Oops! I Seduced My Sister's Fiance (And Now I'm Pregnant) Chapter 10: Mixed Signals

One week.

It’s been one week since the engagent party, and I’ve barely left my room.

Mother thinks I’m still recovering from being "sick." Feifei keeps texting worried ssages I respond to with reassuring lies. Father hasn’t noticed at all, which is typical.

I’ve been trying to convince myself that it’s over, that Bael ant it this ti when he said it wouldn’t happen again, that I can go back to being invisible, to surviving this nightmare until... what? The wedding? And then what?

I don’t let myself think that far.

But today, I can’t hide.

Today is the first official family dinner, both families, at our house, because apparently the Li family still has enough pride to insist on hosting at least once, even if our dining room is half the size of the Wuchen estate’s and our china is from three generations ago.

Mother has been in a frenzy all day. Cleaning, cooking, or rather, supervising the cook she hired for the occasion, arranging flowers, rearranging flowers, checking that everything is perfect.

"Runze!" she calls up the stairs. "Co down and help set the table!"

I take a breath and head downstairs.

***

The dining room looks... nice, actually. Mother’s pulled out all the stops, candles, the good tablecloth, fresh flowers as a centerpiece, it almost looks like we’re still the kind of family that hosts important dinners regularly.

Almost.

I’m setting out wine glasses when the doorbell rings.

My stomach drops.

"Get that!" Mother hisses from the kitchen. "And smile, for god’s sake!"

I paste on a smile and open the door.

Bael’s grandmother stands there, regal and intimidating even at seventy-sothing, behind her, Bael in a perfectly tailored suit, looking every inch the powerful CEO coming to et his future in-laws.

"Good evening," Grandmother Wuchen says, her voice cool and assessing. "You must be Runze."

"Yes, ma’am. Please, co in."

She sweeps past like I’m a servant. Bael follows without acknowledging at all, his eyes scanning the entryway with that sa assessing look his grandmother has.

I close the door and follow them to the dining room, where Mother and Father are already waiting, along with Feifei who rushes forward to greet them.

"Grandma Wuchen!" Feifei takes the older woman’s hands warmly. "I’m so glad you could co."

"Of course, dear." Grandmother Wuchen allows the greeting with a slight smile. "Your ho is lovely."

"Thank you. Please, sit," Mother says, gesturing to the table.

And this is where it gets awkward.

The seating arrangent puts Bael directly across from , Feifei to his right, Grandmother Wuchen to his left, my parents on either end, , stuck in the middle on the other side, with nowhere to look except at him.

I take my seat and imdiately focus on my water glass.

"The flowers are beautiful, Mrs. Li," Grandmother Wuchen says, gesturing to the centerpiece. "You outdid yourself."

"Oh, well." Mother tries to look modest but she’s clearly pleased. "Only the best for such an important evening."

She doesn’t ntion that we’ve sold off half the property to stay afloat.

Dinner is served, so kind of elaborate fish dish that probably cost more than we should have spent. Everyone makes appreciative noises.

I push food around my plate and try to disappear.

"So," Grandmother Wuchen says, her voice cutting through the polite chatter. "Shall we discuss the wedding tiline?"

"Of course!" Mother sits up straighter. "We were thinking perhaps in six months? That gives us ti to plan properly..."

"Three months," Grandmother Wuchen says.

Silence.

"I... three months?" Mother’s smile falters. "That’s quite soon..."

"My grandson’s father’s will stipulates marriage and an heir by age thirty. Bael will be twenty-nine in three months, the wedding will coincide with his birthday, giving us a full year thereafter. Three months is sufficient for planning."

Oh.

So this is a business transaction with a literal deadline.

I glance at Bael, his expression is completely neutral, like we’re discussing stock portfolios and not his wedding.

"Three months it is," Father says quickly.

"Excellent." Grandmother Wuchen takes a sip of wine. "We’ll handle the venue, the Wuchen estate has a ballroom that seats three hundred."

"Three hundred?" Feifei looks slightly panicked.

"It’s a significant union, the guest list will be... extensive."

I take a long drink of wine.

Under the table, sothing brushes my foot.

I freeze.

It could be nothing, accidental, soone shifting position.

But then it happens again, a deliberate slide of a shoe against my ankle.

I look up sharply.

Bael is looking at Feifei, nodding at sothing she’s saying about flower arrangents, his expression is attentive, his hand rests on the table near his water glass.

But under the table, his foot slides up my calf.

I jerk my leg back.

His foot follows.

"Runze?" Mother’s voice cuts through my panic. "Are you alright? You look flushed."

"I’m fine." My voice cos out too high. "Just warm."

"Open a window, dear," she says to Father, then turns back to Grandmother Wuchen. "Now, about the ceremony..."

The conversation continues around , wedding venues, guest lists, catering options. Feifei is taking notes, asking questions, and glowing with excitent.

Bael contributes occasionally. "Whatever you prefer." "That sounds perfect." "Let’s go with your choice."

The dutiful fiance.

His foot is now pressed firmly against my leg, the pressure deliberate and unmistakable.

I try to shift away, but there’s nowhere to go without being obvious.

He’s not even looking at . He’s completely focused on the wedding discussion, responding to Feifei’s questions while his foot slides higher up my calf.

This is insane.

This is torture.

"What about you, Runze?" Grandmother Wuchen’s sharp voice makes jump. "Will you be participating in the wedding party?"

Everyone looks at .

Bael’s foot is still pressed against my leg.

"I... yes, of course, whatever Feifei needs."

"He’ll be a groomsman," Feifei says, smiling at . "Right, Bael?"

"Of course." Bael finally looks at , his expression polite and distant. "We’d be honored."

His foot presses harder.

I’m going to kill him.

"Lovely," Grandmother Wuchen says. "Family unity is so important."

The irony would be funny if I wasn’t currently being felt up under the table by my sister’s Fiance while discussing their wedding.

Dessert is served, so kind of elaborate cake, I don’t taste it.

The conversation shifts to honeymoon destinations, Feifei wants sowhere tropical, Bael suggests the Maldives. Everyone agrees it’s perfect.

His foot is now hooked behind my ankle, keeping trapped.

I take another drink of wine, then another.

"Easy there," Father says, noticing. "You don’t want a repeat of the engagent party."

Heat floods my face.

"I’m fine."

Bael’s expression doesn’t change, but I swear I see sothing flicker in his eyes. Amusent? Satisfaction?

Finally, rcifully, dinner ends.

"That was wonderful," Grandmother Wuchen announces, standing. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Everyone stands, Bael’s foot releases .

There’s a flurry of goodbyes at the door. Grandmother Wuchen shaking hands with my parents, thanking them for their hospitality.

Feifei walks them to the door. "I’ll call you tomorrow about the venue details," she says to Bael.

"Of course," he replies, polite and professional.

Bael shakes Father’s hand, thanks Mother for dinner.

Then he turns to .

"Runze." His voice is perfectly polite, he extends his hand.

I have to shake it, everyone’s watching.

His grip is firm and professional.

And then his thumb strokes across my palm, once, deliberately, before he releases .

"Good to see you," he says, his tone bland.

Then he’s gone, following his grandmother to the car.

Feifei stands in the doorway with us, waving as they drive away, she looks happy, excited about wedding planning.

I stay frozen, my hand still tingling.

"Well," Mother says, closing the door. "That went well, don’t you think?"

"Sure," I manage.

"You should go rest, dear. You still look pale."

I escape upstairs before she can say anything else.

In my room, I collapse on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

What the hell was that?

He didn’t speak to , barely acknowledged , treated like a stranger, like furniture, like nothing.

And the entire ti, he was touching while talking about wedding plans with my sister.

The mixed signals are driving insane.

One minute he’s threatening to destroy if I tell anyone, the next he’s fucking in bathrooms, then he’s cold and distant, then he’s playing footsie under the table at a family dinner.

What the hell does he want?

What ga is he playing?

I bury my face in my pillow and try not to scream.