Page 32 of Bittersweet Legacy

“Very good, take a seat” he motioned to the sofa. “I’ll let your betrothed in.”

I did my best not to snort at that word ‘betrothed’... I was definitely stuck in a Jane Austen novel except that Caleb Astor was no romantic hero and I was not going to get the happy ending.

“Please come in.”

“Is everything settled?” James asked way too cheerily, as if he hadn’t just witnessed coercion in its purest form. I wasn’t sure what he was taking, but he needed to share.

“I believe so,” my father replied coming to sit beside me and throwing me a warning glance.

Caleb detailed me and he pursed his lips tightly when his eyes stopped on my right cheek, probably noticing the angry red mark my father left there. If I didn’t know better, I would have said he was angry at the mark but I did know better and he was probably angry that he was not the one that left it there.

“Esmeralda? Don’t you have something to say to Caleb?”

“Yes of course.” I forced a smile.I want you to go and die. “I would like to thank you for your proposal and nothing would honor me more than becoming your wife.”Death, actual death would honour me more.

“Marvellous!” James clapped his hands, seriously what was his deal? “When are we thinking?”

“I was thinking just after graduation, so they can go on their honeymoon during the summer to the Astor villa in Tuscany.”

Marriage, honeymoon, Caleb– I shivered at the thought of being left alone with the sociopathic Astor.

“What do you think, Esmeralda?” My father asked, but we both knew it was rhetorical and a test to our previous conversation.

I nodded. “Whatever you think is best, father.”

My father nodded, his eyes glowing with approval.

Caleb narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“What about you, son? Does it work for you?” James asked resting his hand on his son’s leg.

Caleb nodded curtly. “Of course, the sooner the better.”

It was my turn to narrow my eyes at him, it didn’t sound like Caleb at all.

Father laughed. “Ah, I can understand the impatience. My daughter is quite a beautiful and desirable young woman.”

I looked down, trying to hide the disgust I felt at the implications of my father’s words. It was not what a father should say… ever… and he should never use his daughter and ‘desirable’ in the same sentence – it was disgusting and, frankly, messed up.

“She is indeed,” Caleb replied, and I didn’t miss the threat in his voice. He stood up, extending his hand toward me. “Do you mind if I steal a few moments alone with my fiancée?” He asked my father.

I looked at his hand dumbfounded, as the rest of him his hand was perfect, with no trace of scars or callosity, a perfect pale skin with manicured nails, his hand itself transpired his standing in society.

My father laughed again. I hated his laugh, hated his happiness that was built on my misery. “Of course, we’ll be here discussing the details.”

“Esmeralda,” Caleb nudged his hand again.

I took it and it was warm and soft, comfortable – too comfortable, too nice to belong to the hateful man in front of me.

He pulled me gently out of the room but once we were out his hand tightened and his pace quickened until he reached the bathroom downstairs and pulled me in.

He pushed me against the bathroom sink with a low growland my heart accelerated to the point I felt it would explode as fear induced adrenaline pumped through my system.

“You stole my freedom from me!” he spat, detailing my face as if he was looking for something. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you were trouble. I knew, damn it! I knew you’d be my downfall,” he barked angrily; his eyes unfocused.

I wasn’t sure if he was even talking to me anymore.

“I know,” His nostrils flared with fury.

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