Page 25 of The Rogue and His Flower

DAISY

“I trust that you’ve settled in, Daisy?” Carl asks me from the head of the table, his steely gaze resting on mine as he clicks his fingers at one of his staff, presumably to clear away his plate.

He’s such an arsehole.

We’ve just finished eating food fine enough to be served in any Michelin star restaurant, and whilst it was delicious, I would’ve much rather spent the time gouging my own eyes out than be in the company of a man who clearly has zero respect for his staff, even less for me. Pretty sure he was oblivious to my presence for the duration given he barely looked at me, let alone tried to converse until now.

“I have.Thank you,” I add, smiling up at the maid who takes my plate, because even if he can’t be courteous, I can.

“Excellent,” he replies, his eyes dropping to my bright green sweater with the words:Be a unicorn in a field full of horses,printed across the front. “You might want to reconsider your choice of outfit next time we sit down to eat dinner together.”

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” I ask, my overly sweet tone tinged with warning.

“It’s… tasteless,” he says with a sneer.

“Father, that’s enough!” Dalton snaps, but I shake my head at him.

I can fight my own battles, thank you very much. Besides, it was only a few days ago that he was commenting negatively about my clothes too. Like father, like son, I guess.

“It’scomfortable, and I happen to like this sweater. Besides, why be boring when you can stand out in the crowd?” I question, eyeing his black shirt and dark grey, tailored trousers. He might not like my taste in clothes, but he’s going to have to suck it up, because I’m not changing who I am to suit him.

“Our image is important,” Carl counters, taking a sip of his expensive wine. “We wouldn’t want people to get the wrong impression of us now, would we?”

His condescending tone grates on me, but I refuse to let him see it. “And what impression might that be?” I ask pointedly.

“People judge you on how you present yourself, and if they’re judging you, they’re judgingus,” he replies, as he leans forward, his gaze locking on to mine.

I take a deep breath, before responding as calmly as I can muster in the moment. “And what does my outfit say about me? That I’m an individual and unafraid to stand out? If that’s the case, then I’m good with that.”

Carl’s nostril’s flare. “You need to understand the importance of image to this family. This,” he says, waving his hand in my general direction, “Is not becoming of the future wife of one of the most eligible bachelors in the United Kingdom.”

“Perhaps you should’ve thought about that before you offered me theposition,” I snap back, not giving two shits that there is still a member of staff in the room. Her eyes widen, and Carl notices.

“Out!” he demands before turning back to face me, a storm brewing in his eyes. Opposite, Dalton shifts uncomfortably, a muscle feathering in his jaw. “Out of respect for your father,I will give you some grace, but do not push me, Daisy,” Carl continues. “I will not tolerate you mentioning this arrangement again in front of our staff. Fortunately for you they’ve all signed an NDA. Regardless, you will keep yourself in check.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, to prevent myself from telling Carl to go fuck himself, and nod my head in agreement, realising that I could jeopardise Drix’s happiness if this arrangement were to somehow get out. That doesn’t mean I have to accept his shitty behaviour though.

“Good. This Saturday evening is your engagement party. It’s a black tie event with a black and white theme. I expect you to be dressed accordingly given we have over two hundred guests attending.”

“Of course it is. It’s as though you’re allergic to colour,” I mutter.

“It’s classic, sophisticated and perfectly fitting.”

“Yes, if you’re attending afuneral,” I can’t help but say. “Though I suppose it’s apt. Being tied to this familyisthe death of my happiness after all.”

“I suggest you curb your attitude, young lady, or we may have a problem,” Carl adds.

“I think you’ve made your point,” Dalton interrupts, his voice low and controlled.

Standing up from my seat, I meet Carl’s challenging stare head-on. “I am not some doll you can dress up to fit your idea of perfection,” I declare, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “And I certainly won’t be moulded into your narrow-minded image of what a perfect wife should be.”

Carl’s jaw tightens, his face turning a dangerous shade of red as he rises from his chair, towering over me. “You forget your place,” he seethes, his voice a low growl. But I stand my ground, refusing to cower.

“I knowexactlywhere I stand,” I retort, my tone unwavering. “And it’s certainly not beneath you or anyone else who seeks to control me.”

With that I stride from the room, letting the door slam shut behind me. As I drag in a steadying breath, I hear raised voices from inside the dining room.

“You had better get her in line, Dalton! I will not have her embarrass us,” Carl shouts.

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