Page 44 of The Vow Thief
Something settled between us then, a new kind of tension. A prelude to a threat.
I tutted as I turned to give Sean my full attention, "Oh look, my little prison guard stepping in to save me."
My father moved between us, his presence like a pillow over my face.
“Mr. Macon is not merely your guard, Lilyth,” he purred.“He’s your fiancé. The wedding will take place in two weeks.”
The words landed like glass cracking underfoot.
He kept talking.“It will be private. A family ceremony. The press release will follow once you have relocated to my Palm Beach estate for the honeymoon period. I’ve already spoken with the designer; your gown is being commissioned from Dior. Sean will have a tailored suit from Milan. The guest list is selective, board members, allies, no journalists.”
There I stood like a statue. Between two men who planned my future like a chess game.
I smiled faintly.“You’re serious.”
Dad's gaze never wavered.“I’m saving what’s left of your reputation.”
“You mean your reputation.”
He remained stoic and unbothered.“You’ll appear in every photo as the image of composure. You’ll say the right things, smile at the right times, and finally act like a Thompson.”
His mouth moved, slow, deliberate, curved at the corner.
“Sean knows the arrangement. You, my dear, already stated your conditions yesterday. Shall I repeat them?”
“Please do,” I said, sweet as arsenic.
“You told me,” he said,“that you would fuck who you want, take what you want, and live as you want.”
Silence dropped like a stone. Sean’s head tilted slightly. His eyes were alive yet dangerous.
Then he chuckled. The sound slid through the room, deep and amused.
“No. You will not have relations with other men. I will not move forward unless you are fully aware of the conditions of this marriage. I agree that you will have what you want and, for the most part, do what you want. But you will be mine, Lilyth," he sounded my name out, every syllable grinding through my senses.
I crossed my arms in a dramatic gesture. "You think for one second that I am going to be your little slut bag while you go fuck about with any and every whore within your reach?"
I turned back to my dad, "How long?"
He tilted his head in question.
"How long do I have to stay married to my overpriced prison guard?"
Dad's tone sharpened.“You’ll speak with respect.”
“I am,” I blurted.“If he's about to be my husband, then isn’t honesty part of the vows?”
Sean moved slowly, closing the distance between us until he was close enough that I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. His voice dropped low, steady.“This marriage will benefit everyone, including you. This marriage will save you.”
His words were a life sentence.
“I don’t need saving. I need freedom,” I said.“The sooner both of you realize that, the sooner we can all move on and forget about this ridiculous arrangement.”
My father spoke as if dictating the terms of a contract.“This is final, Lily. This marriage is a condition of your freedom.”
I almost screamed, but laughter came instead, sharp and uninvited.“What do you get out of this, Dad? Because this isn’t charity.”
He smiled, patient and poisonous.
