Present, Age 23
A bird locked in a cage won’t ever be happy. One day, it’ll fly away into oblivion.
This diner where my father waits for me makes me feel like a caged bird. His mere gaze makes me choke on my own breath again.
Nothing has changed.
I shouldn’t have answered his desperate call and come here. But I can’t turn away now. It’s too late; he’s already seen me.
What if he has something important to say? What if he’s sick or dying?
I don’t want to be that jerk who doesn’t show up when it’s the last time you could ever see each other. When it’s the last time a father and daughter could make amends. Everyone desperately wants to love their parents, even the damaged ones. The ones who use and break without a single thought. That’s my father in a nutshell … and for years, I let him.
But not anymore. I’m finally working hard and living on my own without his help, and I’m proud of it.
But no pride reflects in his eyes. Nothing exists except misery and hatred.
“Charlotte,” he mumbles, and I bend over to kiss him on the cheeks. “Sit down, we have to talk,” he says, and he snaps his fingers at the waitress who glares back at him.
Way to get to the point, Father.
“Hello to you too,” I say, chuckling it off.
God, it’s been such a long time ago since we last saw each other, and I’m immediately reminded why.
“How are things … at work?” he asks, clearing his throat while he makes it sound as though he doesn’t believe I actually work.
“It’s fine,” I lie.
The truth is that I quit my job as a daycare provider in order to start my own business to support families in need with supplies and advice. I want to do something more fulfilling, but investors are tough to come by … especially when they don’t trust me and my idea. For now, I’m pulling money from my savings account to pay for my rent, but I’m not about to tell him that. Even though it’s soon run out, I won’t ever ask him for help.
“How’s Elijah doing?” I ask, avoiding the topic.
“Your brother? Oh, he’s … well, he’s busy, as always,” my father says, waving it away. “But enough about that. Do you want some coffee?” Father asks. Before I can answer, he’s already ordered my drink for me. “One cappuccino.” I don’t even like cappuccino, but I’ll take it.
“Thanks,” I mutter. “So how have you been?”
“Awful,” he says, slurping his coffee. “Just like this coffee. Don’t you have anything better?” he snarls at the waitress.
She shrugs. “Sorry, sir. That’s our best blend.”
“Bland indeed,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“Father,” I mutter.
Has he always been like this? Probably. I made him seem better in my mind just to cope.
“No, they should make better coffee,” he growls while the waitress places down my cappuccino in front of me.
“Why did you even wanna meet at this place if you don’t like it here?” I ask.
“Because it’s the only option I had.” He clears his throat. “Considering my budget.”
“Budget?” I frown and lean back in my seat. “Wait, you don’t mean to say—”
“The business is not going well,” he interjects, but it sounds as though he’s grossly understating things. “But you already knew that. I told you a while ago when I asked you for help.”
“Yes,” I say, folding my arms, “and I specifically remember saying no.”
“I know you did, but listen …” He takes in a deep breath and licks his thin lips. “I’m on the brink of losing everything. I did the only thing I could. I got a loan.”
“So? What does that have to do with me?” I ask, not touching my cappuccino. I know where this is going. I’m almost inclined to leave right now, but I don’t wanna jump to conclusions too quickly.
“Everything,” he says. “You’re my last hope.”
“Really? What about your wife then? Can’t she pitch in?” I snort.
“She’s left me.” He swallows as if he didn’t see it coming from a mile away.
I raise a brow. “Let me guess, she ran away with all your money?”
He narrows his eyes at me, but it’s all I need.
“Figured.” I sigh. “I tried to warn you.”
“Charlotte,” he says in a condescending tone. “You’re my daughter.”
“So?” I suck on my bottom lip. He can’t play on my emotions, not now.
“A loan always needs to be repaid. And part of the agreement was that you—”
“No,” I interrupt, my heart palpitating. “Tell me you didn’t.”
He closes his lips and stares me down, which tells me he really did do it.
“No, not happening,” I say, shaking my head. “How dare you try this on me again?”
“It’s too late. The deal has already been made,” he replies.
My heart stops. “What?!”
I get up, and with a flat hand, I slap his face. The whole place has gone quiet, and everybody’s looking at us, but I don’t care. “I am not an object you can trade for money! I’m your daughter!”
I refuse to become that woman who belongs to someone like some sort of pet. I want to be independent, someone with her own business and her own life. No man will ever make that happen, and no man can make me as happy as my independence does.
Father reaches for my hand, but I pull it away before he can grab it. “Charlotte, you’ll be happy with this man. I promise you.”
My father has always tried to control me by telling me what school to go to, how to dress, and what to say. When I didn’t listen, he scolded me … sometimes, he even hit me.
And now, he’s gone and traded me to some man in exchange for a loan.
“No. You can’t say that. You can’t do this to me.” I shake him off and try to walk away.
Right then, the door to the establishment opens and in walks a handsome, suited-up man with wavy dark hair, a cleft chin … and an insufferably arrogant grin on his face.
My eyes widen, and I begin to stutter. “Easton …”
Easton Van Buren … once a simple waiter in my father’s restaurant with big dreams, he’s now a notorious business mogul who opens clubs all around the world. We first met at my father’s second wedding when we were still kids, and now we meet again … at what seems to be mine.
“Hello, Charlotte,” he muses, his voice still as salacious as I remember. “How nice of you to be here too. Right on time.”
No, this can’t be happening. Not here … and not with him. Even though he sure looks like James freaking Bond when he walks and talks, I know he has an ulterior motive, and it’s anything but good.
He walks toward me and briefly grazes my arm, but the implications are huge.
“You,” I mutter in complete shock. “Why are you …?”
He licks his lips, and a wicked smile forms on his face. But those eyes … those dazzling blue eyes only show contempt and vengeance.
“No,” I mutter.
“Yes,” he murmurs. “I’m the one who lent money to your father, and I want you as payment for that debt.”
For a few seconds, all I can do is stare. Then my palm instinctively comes up to slap him. However, he grabs my wrist before I can even come close.
“Ah-ah, Charlotte. That’s not nice. Hasn’t your father taught you manners?”
I spit in his face. “Asshole.”
He wipes off the spit with one hand. “Now, now … it seems I’ll have to teach you to behave.”
My father clears his throat as if to grab his attention. “I take it you’ll accept this agreement then?”
“Oh, yes.” The way Easton says it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“What?” I mutter. I can’t believe this. He honestly sold me to a rich asshole just to get rid of his loan? “I’m not a bargaining chip!” I exclaim. “How dare you?”
Easton grabs my chin, and says, “I dare because I’ve wanted nothing more than to own you, and now I do.” The smirk that follows makes me want to smack him, but I don’t think he’d let me.
“I’m not an object. I’m a person, and I don’t fucking agree with any of this,” I hiss, glaring right back at him, so he knows I mean it.
“Tsk … we’ll have to do something about that dirty mouth of yours,” he growls, licking his lips. “And I know just the thing.”
He grabs my wrist and drags me toward the door.
“Let go of me!” I yell, punching his arm, but he’s too strong for me.
“No, Charlotte,” he says. “You’re mine now to do with as I please.”
“Are you insane? Do you think you’ll get away with this?” I stare him down. “You don’t scare me.”
My eyes widen as he lifts up his shirt to reveal a gun.
“Do I scare you now?” he murmurs.
When I nod, a grin spreads on his lips that remind me of the devil.
“Good,” he says. “Now … don’t make a scene, and do as I say, and no one will be harmed.”
“You’re trying to sell me! Please, Father!” I call out as a final plea for help.
But my father ignores it. “Charlotte, do your duty to your family.”
I glance at the waitress, the only other person in this diner, but she completely ignores us. Easton probably paid her off to keep quiet.
“Charlotte …” Father adds. “Do this. For me. Please.”
That last word hits me hard, and I stop fighting Easton. My lungs suck the air in and out like no tomorrow as I gaze into my father’s sincere eyes. He’s never begged me for anything. This is the first … and probably the last time.
Easton leans toward me, whispering dark words into my ear. “Your father sold his soul to his company, and he paid the ultimate price.”
“What do you mean?” I mutter.
“The only way to pay it off was with you … Or with his life.”
My eyes widen as I face the guilt laced in my father’s eyes. He’s never looked at me like that … like he owes me his world. But he does. And now I have to pay with mine.
“No,” I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes. “His life or mine? No, I can’t do this. Don’t ask me to do this, please,” I beg my father, but he looks away in defeat.
My knees buckle, and I have to fight not to sink to the floor.
“Look at it this way,” Easton muses, holding me tight. “At least now you’ll both live, and you get to say you saved your father’s life.”
I shake my head. I can’t believe Easton’s doing this. How did such a sweet, innocent boy become such an evil man? “You’re a monster.”
His tongue slips out to wet his picture-perfect lips. “Don’t worry, Charlotte … This monster will take good care of you.” He drags me out of the establishment. “Now let’s go home.”
