He strokes my hair back — it’s a habit he started from when I had a fever ever since I was young, and it usually puts me back to sleep. Even now that I’ve grown up, he still does it.
I’ve always loved it when I’m sick. It’s the only time my parents nurse me all night without fighting.
Papa is a tall man with a darker shade of blond hair than mine. His eyes are a light brown that turn to mesmerising hazel under the sun.
He’s wearing his three-piece Italian cut suit and he still has his leather shoes on, which means he recently got home. He usually changes into a cardigan sweater as soon as he leaves the office. Unless he has company.
His next words confirm my suspicions. “Jonathan and I have something important to discuss with you and Aiden.”
“Is this about a fundraiser?” I ask.
“Let’s talk in the house.” Papa nods at his driver. “Thank you, Derek. That will be all.”
Aiden follows us inside as I keep hanging on to Papa by the waist. I feel like I haven’t seen him in an eternity. Not only has he been busy lately, but Mum has been dropping in unannounced, demanding I spend time with her and complaining that I never do anymore.
The guilt trip frequently works and I end up in her flat before I know it.
We go into Papa’s office. It’s as big as a conference hall with photos in black frames of previous leaders of the Conservative Party who Papa looks up to.
The wood and the chandeliers give a hint about Papa’s ancient roots and how much he believes in classical with a modern twist. Everything in his office has a time and place. You never find papers stacked on top of each other or in disorder.
He’s all about law and order to the point he uses it as the slogan of his campaign.
There’s a conference table in the middle with a presentation board and everything.
We head to the adjacent lounge area that has brown leather sofas and chairs. Uncle Jonathan is already sitting there, sipping from a glass of scotch and scrolling through his tablet on what looks like the FTSE 100 Index.
Aiden is a replica of his father appearance-wise. They share the same black hair and dark grey eyes. Uncle Jonathan, however, has a sharper edge and he’s frightening with his enemies. He’s crushed countless companies and rivals until they either disappeared off the face of the earth or agreed to his conditions. All he cares about is profit and going forward.
I’m glad Papa is his friend, not his enemy. Upon seeing us, he places his glass and tablet on the table. “Wonderful, both of you are here. Saves us time speaking to you separately.”
“Sit down.” Papa motions at the sofa as he settles in beside Uncle Jonathan.
“What’s going on?” I ask after Aiden and I sit next to each other.
“Jonathan and I were talking,” Papa starts. “And we think it would be a marvellous idea to join our families through marriage. That is, only if both of you agree.”
If I were drinking something, I would’ve spat it all out right about now. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Papa and Uncle Jonathan would want to join forces, but I never thought it would be this soon or in this way.
“Aiden has no reason to disagree.” Jonathan raises his brows at his son. “Isn’t that right?”
“I’m fine with it,” Aiden says.
My eyes snap in his direction, asking him without words, what the hell he’s doing.
“Remember what I told you about becoming allies?” he whispers.
“But we’re only fifteen,” I tell Papa.
“There will be no marriage until at least after university, Princess. This is just putting the rocks in place.”
“Or rather, the chess pieces.” Jonathan sips from his drink.
I know the whole meaning behind this. Papa is a secretary of state who can help Uncle Jonathan, and in return, he’ll push him in the next elections towards Papa’s most coveted dream — becoming the prime minister.
He’s already gathering votes to become the leader of the Conservative Party, and by the next general elections, Papa will be the strongest leader of the country.
I want to help him with everything in me. I really do. But…something in my chest aches at the thought of being engaged to Aiden when —