Page 25 of Fractured

Raven: In case you missed it, he doesn’t know my name and I didn’t give him my contact info. So I don’t think telling him about you or Cole really matters. But okay. Sure. I’ll tell him if I ever see him again. What should I tell him your name is?

Ravenmaster: Nice try. And I wouldn’t be so sure about that… Enjoy your meeting.

The car pulls to a stop right as his message comes in. Sighing, I throw my phone into my purse and try to push my stalker out of my thoughts. I need to give my father the bad news. There’s no way I can marry someone so devastatingly horrible in bed.

Vander opens my door, opting to refuse me the use of his hand like he usually does. His cold shoulder continues as he accompanies me into the building and up the elevator. I’m used to us not talking, but it’s normally a warm companionship of mutual silence. This is just frigid. Pissed off vibes are rolling off him like smoke from dry ice.

The elevator dings just before the doors slide open. The cheerful reception area greets me, and before the woman behind the counter can say anything, Jen appears with her trusty tablet. “Remington! Just in time. Your father is waiting on you,” she says with a smile, turning on her heel expecting me to follow.

“I thought you said we were late,” I hiss to Vander under my breath.

Jen must have above normal hearing because she responds instead. “Nope! Right on time. Did Vander not tell you? I texted saying your father was running late?”

“It must have slipped his mind since I was preoccupied,” I answer, shooting a glare at Vander, which he ignores. He turns to stand next to the door leading to my father’s office, and I continue on by myself.

The moment I enter my father’s office, he stands up from behind his desk and comes to give me a hug. I give him a beaming smile and squeeze extra hard. Since my mother’s death, he’s been giving me longer hugs, wanting to hold on after having lost something so vital to him. It didn’t take long for me to learn that if I squeeze him extra tight, the hugs don’t last as long.

I pull away and head for the small bar area he keeps in his office. There’s no way I’ll be able to make it through today without alcohol. Pouring myself a rum and coke, I glance up and raise an eyebrow toward my father. He nods, accepting my offer to get him a drink as well. The amber liquid splashes into his glass and I fill it half way before grabbing both our glasses and heading toward the seating area.

Placing the amber-filled glass in front of my father, I take the seat in front of him and sip on my fizzy drink. The rum nearly overpowers the coke with how heavy-handed I was. Somehow I just know I’ll need it. My glass is nearly half empty by the time my father finally releases a sigh and picks up his own glass. His hesitation isn’t boding well. I firmly believe in the Moneyball approach. If you have bad news, it’s best to just rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with.

It’s something I thought my father shared with me, but I’m starting to have my doubts the longer he remains silent. Ire rises with each second he takes to find his words. It’s not that hard. Hey how about an arranged marriage with Grayson Farrow? Then I can tell him, no, I don’t think so. Boom. Conversation finished.

With a swallow of his whisky, my father clears his throat and finally says something. “Your mother and I never wanted to have to ask you to agree to an arranged marriage. It’s become so outdated these days that it seems archaic in this part of the world to the everyday man and woman. But it still happens all the time with the elite, especially when it comes to business matters.” He pauses to take another gulp of his drink.

“You know I’m selective in who I do business with,” he continues. The abrupt change in topic leaves me startled. I didn’t see this coming. “We build weapons that can be used for immense evil if they reach the wrong hands. I’m not naïve enough to think they don’t end up on the black market from time to time. But I do my best to make sure we’re never the ones selling them directly to terrorists or those who want to use them with nefarious intent.”

I lean forward in my seat, anticipating where this conversation may lead. “What are you trying to say, Dad? Have you changed your mind?”

He runs his hand over his face, anguish washing over him. “That’s just it. I haven’t and they're trying to force my hand. It’s a hostile takeover if I’ve ever seen one. They’re buying up all of our suppliers, or making alliances with them. They’re boxing us in. The only ones who are left are Farrow Corp. I don’t know how long they will hold out so we need to get them locked in on an air tight agreement. It’s either that or go belly up, which I refuse to go down if I can help it.” He doesn’t explain who this elusive “they” is, and I don’t really care enough to find out.

With a resigned sigh, he tosses back the rest of his whisky and immediately moves to refill the glass. I’ve never seen him so shaken. It has me questioning what’s coming next, and leaves me in the predicament of not knowing what emotions to express. He comes back over with two glasses, having made me a fresh drink as well. This time, he sits next to me. Finishing my first glass, I leave it on the coffee table and accept the new drink he hands me.

“Mark Farrow has offered us a deal. I hate to ask, but I need you to say yes if there’s any hope of saving the company. You know how long it’s been in the family. It’s the legacy I always planned on giving you. We have to protect all the research and development we’ve cultivated.” He picks up my free hand and squeezes it painfully. There’s a desperate glint in his eye, giving away how much he fears my answer.

I close off completely. This is a new situation for me, and I don’t want to accidentally show the wrong ones at such a serious time like this. Having a deadpan stare has to be better than slipping up right now. “You haven’t told me what the deal is,” I tell him in a soothing tone. I may not know what to show on my face, but the caged animal vibes he’s exuding gives me all the hint I need for what tone to use.

His hold on my hand tightens. “Mark’s son, Grayson, is looking for a wife. He didn’t give me a reason why, but if the rumors are true, it has to do with his inheritance. I’ve had a deep dive performed on him and Grayson doesn’t show any signs of being abusive or dangerous. I’d never put you in a situation like that. You could have a happy life with him, maybe even learn to love each other. And he’s a brilliant businessman. He would make a good partner if nothing else.” His words are hurried, mixed with a thread of desperation and despair. He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself this is what he really wants to ask of me.

I can feel the tremor of nerves coming through the connection of our clasped hands. I’m at a loss for words. I knew the request was coming, I just didn’t imagine how desperately my father would be asking me. A rejection has been sitting on the tip of my tongue since I arrived. But now I find myself hesitating.

This is the man who found me when hunting down a stolen cache of weapons. He saved me from horrors I can’t even remember, adopted me without a second thought, gave me a home and a family. He’s given me everything in life, and the only thing I’ve given him in return is a daughter who isn’t capable of loving him back. I’m a fraud who’s infiltrated his life, feeding him lie after lie.

I owe him. And there’s nothing I hate more than feeling indebted to someone else.

“What if we start sourcing the materials ourselves? We can open our own mines and refineries, cut out the middle men. In the long run it will make production cheaper,” I offer as a solution. I’m not sure why I’m trying to find an alternative. I’ve always known I’d marry as a way to gain a step up and add power to my position. Someone like me never marries for love. It’s always a calculated move.

He sighs and pulls back. “There isn’t time. We’re under contract to deliver goods to both the Army and Marines. Without access to the materials, we can’t make the deadlines and we’ll be finished. I’ve gone through every option, Remington. This is the last avenue left for us.” I study him, trying to weigh the truth of his words. His skin is sallow, and exhaustion pulls at his eyes, dark bruises hinting at lost sleep.

What the hell. A piece of paper in repayment for my life. Seems like a small price to pay. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but will mean the world to my father. Plus I don’t have to actually fuck Grayson again, I just have to include it in the contract. And if he tries to touch me, I have two men who already promised to kill him. Just have to make sure things are done in such a way that the finger doesn’t get pointed to me. Cops always think it’s the wife who did it.

“Okay. I’ll do it,” I tell my father. Relief washes over him and he sags in his seat trying to gain his composure. “But I need to talk to Grayson before we discuss the contract.”

“Of course. Thank you, Remington. He’s a good man. I just know you’ll be able to find happiness with him.” He stands and buttons his suit coat. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to use the facilities before they arrive.” It’s clear he wants to compose himself in private. I nod my head and focus on my drink. I knew I would need it.

My phone chirps several times in quick concession. I pull it from my bag, already knowing who it is.

Ravenmaster: What are you doing?

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