Okay, I sound like a baby. I need to take back control of this conversation.
“What do Perry and I have to do with this family merger anyway? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“He’s the only unattached son from that particular branch of the family. The most important branch, I might add.” He tips his head forward. “And as my only daughter, I believe you two would make an excellent match.”
“He’s a jerk.”
“I don’t want to break your heart, but most men are.”
“I already know that.”
We share a look, and I see it in his eyes when he realizes what I’m referring to.
Or more like who.
My secret shame. My one illicit moment when I said fuck you to my familial restraints and did what I wanted in Paris. When I was nineteen and thought the world was mine for the taking.
Father is right. Most men are jerks.
I’m sure Perry is no exception.
“You’ll eventually warm up to him,” Father says, dropping his linked hands so they rest on his chest.
“I don’t want to.”
Annoyance flickers in his gaze and he sits up so quickly, I gasp. “You don’t have a choice in the matter. What’s done is done. He’ll be your husband in a month. I say you take this time to become better adjusted to it.”
“He doesn’t want to marry me either,” I offer, sitting up straight as well, eager to bolt.
This conversation didn’t go at all like I planned. Though how I thought I could make this work in my favor, I’m not sure.
“Oh really? Is he planning on getting out of it?” My father’s laughter is downright sinister. “I’d like to see him try.”
I rise to my feet. “You underestimate me, Father. And you underestimate Perry, too. We don’t plan on being pawns in your game.”
He jumps to his feet as well, so fast that he’s suddenly in front of me, his fingers curling around my elbow and holding me in place. “No, you underestimateme, little girl. Don’t even think you’re smarter than me. Or Caroline Constantine. The contract is signed. The deal is complete. You’re marrying him whether you like it or not. And if you keep pushing the matter, I will put you under lock and key until your wedding day. Understood?”
I’m shaking. His fingers are pressed so firmly into my skin, I’m afraid he’ll leave bruises. I know his threat is true. My father doesn’t boast or threaten lightly. He doesn’t need to. “You’ve already kept me under lock and key for years. What difference will it make?”
“Don’t test me, and you won’t find out,” he says with the faintest sneer.
We study each other for a moment, fear making my pulse throb in my head, my ears, drowning out all other sound. His expression is barely restrained violence. One I recognize. When his fingers squeeze even tighter, I choke out, “The engagement party.”
He pauses, a frown on his face. “What?”
“My dress.” I glance down at where his fingers are like a band of steel wrapped around my arm. “It’s short sleeved.”
He lets me go, shoving me so hard I almost trip on the chair behind me. “Get out.”
I run out of his office without a backward glance, too scared to look at him. I don’t stop moving until I’m in my room, the door shut and locked tight, the only light coming from the salt rock lamp I keep on my desk.
Collapsing on my bed, I stare up at the ceiling, closing my eyes when I feel Doja rub her furry head against my cheek, her unmistakable purr bringing me instant comfort. I grab hold of her and cuddle her close, dropping a kiss on top of her head, fighting tears.
The interaction with my father once again reminds me that I am better off outside of this house. I’d rather marry a man I don’t know than remain here.
How bad can the Constantines be?
***