Page 40 of Wreck Me

“Excellent, because I don’t want to marry you either, beautiful. But I wouldn’t be opposed to taking the consummation part for a test drive.” Blake waggled his eyebrows, but I didn’t laugh. Too annoyed by this whole notion of my father forcing me into marriage. “Tough crowd,” Blake muttered to himself.

“Sorry, I just learned my father’s trying to sabotage my life even more than he already has over the last twenty-two years of my existence.” Standing, I pulled up the sleeve of my dress to check the time on my diamond encrusted Rolex. It had been a Christmas gift from my parents when I was seventeen—an ostentatious substitution for actually spending time with me. “We should get back inside so we can eat our pie and I can get the hell out of here.”

As I went to step away, Blake caught my elbow, turning me to face him. “I know you don’t know me, but you can trust me when I say I won’t be pursuing you. Whatever ideas our families have for us are just that. Ideas.”

“Good, because I have a boyfriend and I have no plans on breaking things off with him for the sake of a company merger.”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking you to.”

“I’m not going to ruin my relationship just because my father expects me to.”

He looked down at his own timepiece before shoving his hands into his front pockets. Looking at me pointedly, Blake said, “And I’m not going to ruin the constant stream of pussy I have lined up at my beck and call. So don’t stress, Isla. I want absolutelynothingfrom you.”

“Good,” I barked, crossing my hands over my chest. “Can we go inside now?”

Blake closed the distance between us, standing beside me with his arm bent, waiting for me to take it. “Let’s get this night over with.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

The moment the Bradleys said goodnight, escorted out the door by Bernard, I slumped against the white leather couch of my parents' formal sitting room. Exhaustion settled deep within my bones and I dreaded the half an hour drive I had back to my apartment. All I wanted to do was kick off my shoes, change into comfortable pants, and sink into my soft bedding.

“What a wonderful evening!” my mother cooed to no one in particular, passing by the room I was in as she meandered up the staircase to the second floor.

My father poured himself another scotch, swirling the amber liquid gently in his glass, addressing me as he did. “I understand you’re not staying in your old room tonight?” he asked, taking a sip.

“No, I’m going home tonight.”

“This is your home,” he stated blandly.

“This hasn’t been my home for a long time,” I muttered, more to myself than in answer to him. My voice wasn’t quiet enough, and from across the dimly lit space I could see my father’s eyes blaze with annoyance.

“You’re telling me you feel more at home in a run-down, eight hundred square foot box than you do in the home you were raised in?” My father prowled across the room and came to stand directly in front of me. Instinctually, I sat up in my seat. “Why don’t we go talk in my office, Isla?” His voice was commanding, unwavering. Normally I would have scurried to my feet to obey my father’s orders, but the betrayal of his arranged marriage plan still burned brightly in my veins.

“No, father. I need to get on the road. If you have something you’d like to talk about, we can right here, before I leave, but I am really quite tired and have a thirty-minute drive.” My heart beat wildly, my nerves racing. I couldn’t believe I had just spoken to my father like that, and by the look on his face, he was surprised as well. He quickly morphed it into a look of impassiveness though, and continued.

“Very well. Your degree is almost finished, which means it’s time to get serious about your training at Skyline. I trust that once you finish, you’ll be moving out of your shack you call a home, and back in here? Because you do realize, Isla, once your degree is out of the way, my obligation to pay for your pathetic little apartment is over and without my monthly payments, you won’t be able to afford the rent.”

Heartache slammed into me, his words sinking in. Of course, I knew time was looming, but hearing them felt so much more real. I didn’t want to leave my apartment, and I certainly wouldn’t be moving back in here, but he was right. He committed to giving me just enough to get by on my own throughout the duration of my degree, but once I graduated, all bets were off.

Now, more than ever, I had to find a job. And quickly. One that could afford me to continue to live on my own, away from the rule of my tyrant father.

“Oh for God’s sake, Andrew, just give her access to her trust fund and stop making her suffer,” my mother chastised, rounding the banister and sashaying her way into the formal sitting room as though my father and I were having the most pleasant of conversations. She had changed out of the formal dress she had worn for the guests, and into a silk pajama set and matching robe–her hair and makeup still perfect.

“I don’t want my trust fund,” I snapped immediately. “What I want is to make my own choices. I want to live my life and pave my own way. I… I want to be a veterinarian.”

Way to word vomit, Isla.

My palms turned clammy, and the already quiet room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.Realvomit threatened to materialize.

Laughing with malice, my father shook his head slowly. With his arms crossed over his chest, he lifted one hand to rub his chin as he stared at me with scrutiny in his eyes. “A veterinarian? What makes you think you’d have any success with being a veterinarian? Stop being ridiculous, Isla. You’re set up to run Skyline. And now, you’ll be doing so with Blake Bradley by your side. You should bethankingme for the success and wealth I’m handing you on a silver platter. It goes so well with the silver spoon already in your mouth.”

“Andrew!” my mother shrieked. Her hand flew up to clutch her necklace. She was sitting in the armchair across from me, her head bouncing between my father and I like she didn’t know where to look, or whose side to take. I already suspected it wouldn’t be mine. “Isla, your father is right. Your life is set up so beautifully now. You’ll have it all, sweetheart. An established, successful company, a dashing husband if you marry Blake—”

“Whenshe marries Blake,” my father interjected. His eyes pinned me, narrowing into a glare. “Surprise, by the way. You’re engaged.”

“The hell I am,” I spat back, rising to my feet. “You can’t force me into marriage, father.”

“It’s already a done deal, Isla. The merge. The marriage. Everything is already in motion. You and Blake Bradley will run Skyline-Interface together—”

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