Page 81 of Heartless Sinner

"Enough." The word rips from my throat with such force, he flinches. "You want to talk about tradition, Papà? Let's talk about respect, because you have none for me."

“That is not true.”

“Yes. It is.” I lean forward, forcing him to meet my gaze. "Scarlett may not have the right last name or come from the right family according to you, but she’smychoice.”

"Son—"

"No. We’re not talking about this anymore. I did what you said. I found a woman I could marry. I did it, so this is a done deal. You can’t fuck with me anymore." My words hang heavilybetween us. “I don’t want to be with Eloise, so stop forcing her on me.”

His face hardens and that familiar stubbornness entrenches in his jaw. "Very well."

“Good. And Papà? Eloise's jewelry store. Cancel that fucking investment."

He doesn’t answer. All he does is stare.

That’s fine. Let him hold on to that.

I turn and leave, going right back out the door, that deadly silence following me.

Thankfully, Eloise is gone. I’m about ready to breathe fire, so it’s a good thing she’s not here.

When I reach outside and I’m at my car, I rest a hand on the door and take a moment to breathe in the fresh air.

The way I spoke just now to both Eloise and my father, and even Jaxon, I didn’t sound like a man who wanted a business marriage. I didn’t sound like a man who wanted only ayearof marriage.

I didn’t sound like a man who wanted to let Scarlett go.

I sounded like I was in love with her. How in the hell can I be in love with a woman I met eight days ago?

It’s crazy.

But it’s true.

Chapter Nineteen

Scarlett

The Maybach turns down a road that showcases gated homes with contemporary designed multi-million-dollar houses. My breath catches at the sight of the grandeur, and I stare and stare as we drive by, my eyes taking in every detail I can spot.

Micah and I are sitting in the back of the car while Bernard, our driver, is chauffeuring us to Micah’s parents’ home.

Tonight is the night—the engagement dinner party where I’ll meet all his family.

My heart has been beating in my throat since we left the house, and I can't stop fidgeting with my dress—a black Valentino that cost more than my monthly salary at any job I’ve ever had.

I keep doing that comparison thing, and I should probably stop sinceeverythingin Micah’s world will cost more than things I can compare it to. Even things I had with Anton.

I’ve been trying to remember some of the fancy places Anton took me to, so I don’t come across as some country bumpkin who lived in the mountains.

The problem is that Anton didn’t take me anywhere fancy enough that can help me. We ate at restaurants, and he took me to L.A. a couple of times, where we dined on Sunset Blvd, but that’s about it.

Yesterday, Micah and I went to dinner at a restaurant that outshone all the places Anton ever took me to in every way. Now that we’re on our way to see his parents, I’m so nervous that even my nerves have nerves.

Micah catches my restless hand and pulls it into the warmth of his touch, and I look at him.

"Try to calm down." He traces circles on my palm with his thumb. "It’s just dinner with my family.”

I smile back at him although deep down I think it’s easy for him to say.

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