“GET me out of this deal with Leticia.”
This is how I greet my father as I stride into his study. No hey dad, can you do me a favor? None of that casual, help me out shit.
I’m demanding, just like he is.
Augustus Lancaster is sitting behind his mighty desk, in his mighty office with the mighty view. The recently installed floor to ceiling windows are uncovered, allowing in plenty of light, thanks to the clear skies outside. It’s a crisp fall day with the threat of winter just behind it. All of the snow from last week has melted, as if it never happened in the first place, but it’s coming.
“Shouldn’t you be talking to your mother about this?” he says casually, leaning back in his chair.
I stop in front of the sprawling cherry wood desk, bracing my hands on the edge of it. “She’ll tell me no.”
“And what if I tell you no?”
“You’d be more inclined to help me, since you were pulled into the same damn deal I’m about to find myself in,” I remind him.
My grandmother chose Sylvia Whittaker out of all the other girls at my father’s private school when he was eight. Eight. My mother was seven, a grade below him and supposedly as pretty as a picture thanks to her mama’s good genes. She was rich as shit thanks to her father’s side of the family. Even then, she had a cunning mind and a tongue like a viper. She hid all of her unbecoming traits though and eventually, as time went on, my father knew who he was dealing with.
And still he went through with it. They were married at this very estate, on a gorgeous summer day. My father looks blitzed in all the photos—the man had to get blindingly drunk in order to go through with it. My mother was radiant, her smile stretching from ear to ear. She was finally a Lancaster. Her ultimate goal, met at the tender age of twenty.
Their marriage was miserable from the get-go. Supposedly she was a cold fish. They were rarely spotted together the first five years of their marriage, much to her dismay. His father forced him to return to their home they shared, demanding he pretend they’re a happy family or he’d cut off his inheritance.
It took them a couple of years, but I was finally born when my dad was thirty. He fucked her only because he had to. He needed heirs, and she could give them to him.
Her mother turned in the gynecological report, just like Leticia’s did.
We’re a match, but only on paper. As if we’re animals to be bred together.
The mere thought of marrying someone I don’t really want, and ending up with that person for the rest of my life, fills me with major fucking anxiety.
And fury. Plenty of fury.
“Lancasters have a duty to produce heirs.” My father says this as if it’s a rehearsed line, one he’s been forced to say for years.
“We’re not the fucking British royal family,” I spit out. “The supposed Lancaster monarchy won’t die off if I marry someone I actually love and want to be with.”
“Love?” He scoffs. “You’re only eighteen. What do you know about love?”
He’s not fucking wrong. I don’t know dick about love, thanks to my fucked-up family and my shitty morals.
Being with Summer last night threw me for a loop. For the first time, I acknowledged my feelings for her. Not out loud, and not to her face, but within myself. They’ve been growing, despite my resistance. It was bound to happen, with how much time we spend together. I could be as cruel and awful as I wanted, and she took it. She seemed to enjoy it. She likes being with me. Every other girl would tell me to go fuck myself if I talked to them like that. Treated them like that.
And it’s not because Summer is a pushover either. She’s anything but.
Last night had been a realization. This girl is under my skin. We’re connected. We share the same birthday for fuck’s sake. I don’t want to push her away because of some sort of obligation I’m being forced into.
Fuck duty. I want to live my own life.
“I know enough that I don’t want to marry someone who I don’t care about,” I finally say.
“Is there someone in particular you have in mind?” He lifts a brow. I know exactly who he’s referring to, the prick.
I press my lips together, refusing to say her name. I’m not doing this because of Summer.
I’m doing this for myself.
“I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, perfectly willing to do whatever you want.” The pointed look he sends my way irritates the shit out of me. He’s of course, talking about Summer. “But she is not worth dumping your entire future over.”
“I’m not dumping my future. I’m making sure I don’t get caught up in an arranged marriage that makes me fucking miserable for the rest of my life,” I tell him truthfully.
Witnessing Summer interact with my family last night at dinner had also been an eye opener. She’s genuinely close to my sister. She put up with the bullshit flirtation my dad threw her way and the icy coldness from my mother. She took it all with a barely-there smile on her face, impressing me.
Leticia deals with my family too, but my mother lavishes her with compliments because she’s her choice. Father pretends she doesn’t exist. Sylvie avoids her at all costs.
My life, my future that’s been chosen for me, makes no damn sense. I don’t have to marry Leticia and ensure the family bloodlines are well-kept. What a bunch of horse shit. Mother treats our lineage as if we’re in medieval times, and why the hell is that even necessary?
It’s actually…insane.
“Sit down,” my dad suddenly demands.
I frown at him. “I can stand.”
“No.” His voice is cold. Just like his eyes. “I said, sit down.”
I do as he demands, anger flowing through my veins freely. I don’t like being told what to do, and my old man knows it.
“You’re not going to throw away a carefully made plan because you’ve been getting extra good pussy lately. I won’t allow it.” His voice is firm. Unyielding. “Trust me. Ultimately, her mother wasn’t worth the chase. I lost my entire marriage because of Janine. Don’t go losing your head and thinking this girl is what you want. She’s not.”
“It’s not about the girl,” I say. “It’s more about the girl opening my eyes and making me realize I don’t need to follow the same path as every Lancaster who came before me. I bet ol’ Augustus the first didn’t let his mother choose his future bride for him when he was a kid. I bet he lived his life and did whatever the hell he wanted. He eventually fell in love and got married like normal people do.”
“We’re not normal people any longer,” he says drolly.
“Right. We’re people with a shit ton of money and a fuck ton of drama that comes with it. Those are the only things I can think of that makes us not normal people.” I fall back into my chair with an irritated sound. “I don’t want to marry Leticia.”
“We’re not asking you to marry her now, son.”
“I don’t want to marry her now, or five years from now, or even twenty years from now. I don’t love her,” I stress.
“You barely know her.”
“I know enough that I don’t want to be with her. I’m sure she doesn’t want to be with me either. And if she does, it’s only because it’s been drilled in her head that it’s the right thing to do. She doesn’t know me. She’s probably not even attracted to me.”
“You’re a Lancaster. Trust me, you’re attractive to her,” he says with a chuckle.
“Only because of our money.” I jump to my feet, letting my annoyance fly. “You’re treating this like one big joke, when it’s my life we’re talking about here.”
“And it’s such a bad life you have, no? Oh wait, you have everything you could ever want. All the money in the world. You don’t have to lift a finger for the rest of your goddamned life, and you’re worried about your future bride? Who, I might add, is a very attractive young woman who will tolerate all of your bullshit with a smile on her face. Your only requisite is you must fuck her and make pretty Lancaster babies. That’s it.” He scowls at me. “Big fucking deal, son. Big. Fucking. Deal.”
“You told me I should wait it out and marry for love, just last night,” I say, my voice faint, my future flashing before my eyes. Boring. Cold. Just like my parents.
He frowns, as if trying to recollect what he said. “I don’t remember saying that, and even if I did, I didn’t mean it. I was drunk.”
“Isn’t that when we’re being our most truthful?” I ask, trying to grasp onto something. Anything but my stark reality.
He sighs. “You caught me in a vulnerable moment. Love is for fools. Treat your marriage like a business deal, and it’s a lot easier.”
My head spins. No fucking way. I won’t do it.
“I’m. Not. Marrying. Her,” I say between clenched teeth.
My father’s eyes narrow as he watches me. “Just because you turned eighteen yesterday doesn’t mean you get to suddenly control your every move. You still have obligations.”
“Like what? Marrying a complete stranger when I graduate college? Sounds like absolute bullshit to me.” I tap my chest with my index finger. “I have money. Money you don’t control, and you can’t touch. And that infuriates you, doesn’t it? When you turned eighteen, all the money was still under your father’s control. Lucky for me, my mother comes from a wealthy family as well.”
“Not as wealthy as a Lancaster.”
“What the fuck ever. This song is completely overplayed. I’m not doing this.” I turn and head for the door, my father’s words stopping me cold.
“You’re going to eventually marry Leticia,” he says. “Whether you like it or not. You don’t have a choice.”
I glance over my shoulder. “That’s the difference between you and me, Dad. Because we always have a choice. You just didn’t see yours.”
