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I want to turn and take in the expression on my father’s features. I want to see the regret on his face. I want to hear him admit that he did wrong by me. But a part of me is afraid that I wouldn't see that if I looked at him, so I won't. The way he allowed them to treat me is something I’ve never dared acknowledge to myself before today. Oh, I hoped he’d come to my rescue, that he’d tell my stepmother and half-sisters that I was a part of the family and needed to be treated with respect. I hoped, but never thought the day would come when he’d actually admit he wasn’t fair to me. Not only did he do so today, but he also apologized to me.
And it's because this man put him in a position where he was no longer the most powerful man in the room. Where he was beholden to someone else… And you know what? He's beholden to me. I could have refused the wedding, and where would that have left him? I could still refuse the marriage, but that would mean my father would suffer financially. And while I’ve wanted him to show me his love, even though he never actively defused the situation with my stepmother and sisters, there was never any question he loved me. I can’t stand by and let him face financial ruin. Not while I can make a difference and help him. Before this, I've never had the chance to contribute to our family. This is my chance to impact the outcome for my father in a positive fashion. This is my chance to… Marry this man who’s fascinated me from the moment I set eyes on him. I don’t know him well, but he's not a stranger. As the saying goes, better the devil you know than the one you don’t, right?
"Mira, I—"
"You need to leave. Right now," Edward says in a voice which sounds casual but which has a steely undertone to it.
My father hesitates, then I sense him getting a hold of himself. "You’d better take care of her."
"You can bet I'll take a damned sight better care of her than you ever did."
"That's not fair. She's my daughter—"
"She’s not yours anymore. She’s mine."
14
Edward
Mine. Mine. Mine.The word ricochets around in my mind before swooping down to my chest where it sets off a fireball of sensations. How strange. I’ve never felt this, alive, this apprehensive, this nervous, and also…angry. I curl my fingers into fists at my sides.How dare she walk into my life and turn it upside down? How dare she make me feel the emotions I locked out of my life? How dare she stare at me with those big blue eyes with hurt swimming in them and trailing down her cheeks? Fuck!That ball of sensations in my chest shoots off flames which zip to my fingers, my toes. Every part of my body seems to come alive. Like a seed sprouting through the ground, the individual sentiments make themselves known.
I’m aware of her father walking out of the room. The door snicks shut. I go down on one knee, then scoop up the trail of moisture. I bring it to my mouth and suck on it.
She gasps. "What are you doing?"
"Why are you crying?"
"I’m not." She swats at her cheek. "At least, not on purpose." She bites her bottom lip before whispering, "No one’s stood up to my father for me before today."
"I’m sorry for what your family put you through."
"It wasn’t that bad." She half smiles. "I had a roof over my head, and designer clothes, and a team of staff who made sure my every need was taken care of."
"Everything except your emotional needs," I murmur.And what do I know of that? Why am I unable to stop myself from comforting her? You can take the priest out of the church. You can even try to unlearn everything that you stood for by traveling around the world and trying to lose yourself amongst strangers… But it only takes a full-figured goddess with tears in her eyes to bring out that tenderness inside you which you thought you’d managed to wipe out completely.
"He wasn’t a bad father. He was just lost without my mother."
"You’re defending the man who signed away your future in return for money?”
"Was it a big amount?" she murmurs.
"A few billion dollars."
"At least, it has a lot of zeroes." She chuckles, but the sound is weak.
"A lot of zeroes," I assure her.
"And you’re the one he made the deal with."
"Does that make you angry?" I search her features.
"I’m angry that I'm unable to disobey my father." Her lips tighten. "I’m angry I was born into a family that believes in arranged marriages to further their business interests. I’m angry that the little time I thought I had to be independent and have a normal life was taken from me. As for the rest, I’m confused."
"Confused?" I tilt my head.
"I’m confused you asked me to work for you and you gave me a job. I’m confused how you connected with my father. How you knew he was in trouble, how—" She must notice my expression, for she slowly nods. "Of course, you knew. You have money and power and connections. You knew he was in trouble. You knew you could barter a deal with him."
"I need a wife. And contrary to your declarations, you do need a husband."
