Page 32 of The Heiress

Are we… are we doing this? We’re doing this!

Okay. Now that we’ve cleared I come from excellent Italian stock, there’s the matter of my funds. I show him my portfolio and copies of my bank accounts. Very sensitive information, but if you want to prove to a man that you can provide for his daughter, you bring the receipts. Literally. My net worth is tens of millions of dollars. I don’t want for anything. At the rate my investments are going (which have been going since my birth, thanks, Mom!) I’ll be set for life in five more years. My mother is one of the wealthiest actresses in Hollywood. I don’t have a lot yet. I can fix that. Gold, stocks, whatever. I’ll do it all. Show me your financial planner, Marcello, and I’ll show that firm their next big customer.

Next, I talk about my future. Before Daisy, I didn’t have a career in mind. Professional drifter, I guess. When you grow up as rich as I did, you don’t need career ambitions. That’s not going to work for Marcello, though. He wants someone he can train to inherit his company. If Daisy will let me, I would like to inherit with her. I would have to go back to school, though. Lots of business classes are in my future. I already have a pending acceptance letter from Harvard Business School. What? You think I didn’t do well in school? I partied and fooled around with a lot of women, but I did my damn work. My mother would’ve killed me otherwise, and I can be a real baby when it comes to her being disappointed.

“I swear to you, Mr. DeMonte,” I conclude my spiel with. “I will be the greatest spouse your daughter could have. I’ll work every day of my life to prove that to both of you. I want to be with your daughter. I know she wants to be with me. We may be young, and we don’t have to get married for a while yet but at least give us a chance. Unlike others you may have thought of for the position,” I think of Cristiano, with his crazy family connections and self-interests, “I will be completely dedicated to your family and its preservation. I admire your legacy. I want to continue it and make it stronger.” Babies. I want to have babies with your daughter one day, and it’s scaring the piss out of me! “You’re right when you say I have no father. I want to change that. I want to be such a great daughter-in-law that you don’t even think of me that way.” I pause for effect. Here we go. “I’ll think of you as the father I always needed. And I hope that you’ll see me as part of the family. One you never knew how you lived without.”

I can play his games. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be in his position one day. Daisy and I could have some gorgeous daughters that tear up the world by storm. They’ll have all the partiers coming to call, and no matter how well I think I’ve prepared them fordating, I’ll still worry for them. Like Marcello worries for his young daughter right now.

He wants to know that I can provide for her. He wants to know that his family’s legacy won’t die with him. That I will respect and take care of his feisty girl until death do us part.

Something changes in his eyes. Gone is the stony façade he built up the moment I entered this room. I’ve touched a crucial part of his heart. His fears.

He looks up and gazes over my head.

“So, with your blessing, sir, I would like to be with your daughter. And your family.”

He smiles, wanly. “Why don’t you ask her about it yourself?”

I don’t have to ask. I’ve known she was there for at least five minutes. Standing silently, but resilient. That’s my girl.

Sure enough, I turn to see Daisy standing in front of the door, her mother a pace behind her. Her eyes are wild with confusion and fear. For me? For her? For all of us? Yeah.

“How much did you hear?” I ask her.

Those glassy eyes wipe the pout from her lips. Instead, they curve into a smile that matches her father’s. “Something about becoming my sister.” Her smile is cheekier.

I snatch the box off her father’s desk. “Before that?”

“Hmm…”

“Oh, I would love to see this,” Marcello grumbles. “Prove you mean it, Ms. Sheen. Go on. No future daughter of mine would be scared to do what you’re about to do.”

He’s right. No one in this family can be scared of anything, least of all professing eternal love to a woman one’s barely known for several weeks. So here I go, standing up long enough to get down on one knee in front of Daisy. I open the box. She gasps. Her mother has another one of her infamous strokes.

How do you pick the perfect ring for a woman whose tastes you’re still learning? I’m not gonna lie. It was impossible to thepoint I kept the receipt, in the hopes that the worst that would happen is an exchange for something more to her liking.

For the time being, I chose a simple silver band encrusted with three beautiful diamonds. Daisy wouldn’t want something that could easily snag on her outfits, but she’d still want something pretty that she could show off to the cameras, of course.

I wouldn’t expect – or want – less. My vivacious Daisy will look stunning in whatever engagement ring I buy her.

“Daisy DeMonte,” I say, trying not to tremble on this bended knee, “will you marry me?”

She’s frozen. Her face, her body, even her hair refuses to move. Mrs. DeMonte covers her mouth with her hands and starts to cry. Fuck, I wanna cry, too!

Me. Lorde Sheen. Proposing to the woman I insulted to hell and back not even two months ago. Me. Lorde Sheen. Proposing to any woman at all!

I don’t regret a single moment of it.

Especially when her frozen lips break out into a grin and she emphatically nods. “Yes,” she squeaks. Then, “Yes! Holy shit, yes!”

I leap up and hug her, my beautiful Daisy finally in my arms again. In front of her parents, even! Where are the paps now? They would eat this up.

Our celebrations are cut short when she breaks from my hold and says, “What about Cristiano…” she looks at her father, trepidation coloring her cheeks.

Marcello’s demeanor remains unchanged. “I’m sorry. Who?”

I think Daisy is going to pass out when her father gets up, rounds his desk… and smacks me right on the back.

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