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m. d.  cana
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​"P'Bam!" Selene whispered loudly. ​Bam offered her siblings a reassuring nod before turning her attention to her elders. She bowed respectfully. "Ahma. Mother." ​Bam was the only one in the entire family permitted to address the matriarch by that intimate title, even her cousins lacked the right, just as none of them dared to sit in her designated chair at the grand head of the house. ​"Sit, Bam," Doña Saralee commanded. ​Bam took her seat at the foot of the table, opposite her grandmother. ​"You are late," Doña Saralee placing her porcelain teacup down with a soft clink. ​"I had office hours with my students, Ahma. My academic responsibilities come first," Bam replied smoothly. ​"Academic responsibilities," Doña Saralee subtle trace of disdain in her voice. "You play professor while the family empire awaits its true leader. You are the eldest daughter, the first granddaughter, the rightful heir to our universities and financial institutions. Yet you hand your birthright away like cheap paper." ​"We discussed this for years, Ahma," Bam said calmly. "Sire, Selene, and Bee have great potential. I have my own career. I do not want the heirship." ​"And yet you use our name's prestige to stand in those lecture halls!" Doña Saralee’s voice sharp and echoing against the high ceilings. ​"Mother, please," Lady Saralee interjected gently, touching Doña Saralee's arm. "Bam works extremely hard. She has never taken a single cent from the family trust since she turned eighteen." ​"And that is precisely the problem!" Doña Saralee striking her silver cane against the polished floor. "She acts completely independent of this family! She avoids public gatherings, buries herself in books, and lives alone in that apartment. A woman of your stature cannot remain untethered forever." ​Bam felt a familiar tight knot in her chest, but face remained an impassive mask. "What is the point of this dinner, Ahma?" ​Doña Saralee leaned forward, eyes locking onto Bam's. ​"You refuse to take your place as the heiress. Fine. But you will no longer live without accountability to this family," the matriarch said firmly. "It is time for you to settle down." ​Bam’s brow furrowed. "Settle down?" ​"A marriage has been arranged," Doña Saralee stated flatly, as if announcing a business transaction. "With the Eisaya family." ​The room went dead silent. Sire and Selene exchanged horrified glances. Lady Saralee lowered her eyes, unable to look at her eldest daughter. ​Bam’s hands clenched into tight fists beneath the table, fingernails pressing into her palms. "A marriage? Absolutely not. I am 29, Ahma. My life is not a strategic asset." ​"You don't have a choice this time, Bam," Doña Saralee cold. "If you refuse, I will personally restructure the university trust. I will revoke Sire's art academy funding abroad, and Selene’s research grants will be canceled immediately. The burden of the family legacy will fall entirely on their shoulders starting tomorrow." ​Bam’s breath hitched in her throat. She looked at Sire, who looked pale, and Selene, whose eyes were shining with unshed tears. They were young. They had dreams that had nothing to do with corporate boardrooms and traditional expectations. ​Bam had spent her entire life shielding them from this exact iron fist. ​"You would leverage my family's futures against me?" Bam voice dropping to a dangerously low. ​"I am securing the family's future," Doña Saralee replied without an ounce of remorse. "The Eisaya family holds vast landholdings, estates, ranches, most of the prime real estate, and agricultural wealth across the country. Both of our families are known all over the nation, yet this alliance elevates us further. The daughter, Oom Eisaya, has already agreed. The contract is finalized. You will marry her in three months." ​Bam stared at her grandmother. The weight on her shoulders, already heavy, suddenly felt like a crushing mountain. She felt trapped in a cage made of her own loyalty to her family. ​#oomeisaya #bamsaralee #oombam ​

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