Five years later: Cassie’s POV:I stared into the glittering eyes of my baby girl as she struggled to make them stay open while I read her a bedtime story. She was just as stubborn as her father, fighting sleep even though that was what she needed. “And they lived happily ever after, the end,” I said. By the time I was done with the bedtime story, sleep had won. Although my daughter was asleep, I couldn’t stop watching her I rubbed her head and stared into her face, smiling when I saw the close resemblance she shared with her father. “You’re lucky I married a handsome man,” I whispered, still not ready to leave my baby girl’s side. “I love you,” I said and kissed her on her forehead, before turning to leave the room. “Jeez!” I gasped when I saw Davis standing by the door with his hands in his both pockets, smiling down at me. I turned back immediately to see if I had woken Ivory up, but luckily she was such a deep sleeper. “You scared me,” I whispered. “Come,” he said, stretchi
"Are you guys seriously demanding I marry a man I've never even met before?" I asked my parents in disbelief. This had to be some kind of joke. "Are you seriously trying to sell me off? That was basically what they were doing, asking me to get married into the Monroe family just so they could strike up a partnership and make a ton of money. "Try to understand, Cassie," my mother consoled me in her singsong voice, lightly touching my shoulders. "You can leave him after the partnership is over, you know. If your father loses this opportunity, everything we've ever worked so hard for will all be gone in an instant. Don't think of it as us trying to sell you off. Think of it as a way to repay us for all we've provided for you." I pushed her hands away from me in both surprise and disgust. I knew my mother was shallow, but hearing her say those words out loud just angered me to another degree. "All you've provided for me? Last I remember, you're my parents and I'm your responsibility. I
An ugly clown. Me? Why did I ever think he was good-looking? Truly, beauty was only skin-deep. I frowned as I opened my mouth to tell him off but no words came out. My lips only quivered as more tears came out. He shuddered and turned to the priest as if my sole appearance was threatening his life. How bad did I look? My mother had made sure I had a full coverage make-up before I got here. Did he think I was that ugly, or was he just not prepared to like me? "She can't even speak," he said to the priest in disgust. "Just wrap this up, already." "Why do you have to be so rude?" I asked, getting my voice back. I wished I could have thought of something more clever, like an insult. He gave me a once over, the displeasure on his face increasing. "Your dress, the shoes, the step, ugh," he said, more to himself than to me, like I was some bad artwork he was being forced to purchase. "How am I supposed to show you off to people? They'll laugh." Fortunately, no one else could hear hi
"Go ahead," I prodded. "Speak." The maid fidgeted with her uniform, turning away from me. "Ma'am, I…""You what?" I was getting impatient."She just began working here a few months ago, ma'am," an older maid walked up to me with an automatic smile on her face. She gave the maid sitting down a sour look and she quickly got up, curtsied, and left the table. None of this felt right. I understood some families still had live-in maids, but I didn't like the way they acted like they didn't have free will. First an arranged marriage and now this? Did I get transported to the seventeenth century without knowing? "The young master is a very lovely man, my lady. I promise you will enjoy every bit of your marriage," she began, beaming, but her smile was not authentic. I frowned. That wasn't really what I wanted to hear. I didn't want her humble praise for her 'master'. I just wanted the actual truth. "How does he treat you?" I asked, deciding I had to be more specific if I was ever getti
I tried to leave since he clearly didn't want me in the room but he didn't move. He remained in that position, taunting me, trapping me, asking me to get out even though he made it impossible for me to do so. He was still staring into my face, looking intently like he could see right through me. I didn't like this. I knew he could see the fear in my eyes. He smelt vaguely of vodka, or at least what I thought vodka smelt like. But he didn't look drunk. His eyes were clear and he was neither stuttering nor staggering. He was breathing into my face and with no air left to inhale, I was breathing him in. It seemed like such an intimate position, for someone whose aim was to antagonize me. "I want to leave now," I said, feeling uncomfortable. He didn't move. Instead, I saw the small trace of a smile grace his lips. "You're actually not that bad," he said, his entire demeanor changing. I had no idea what he was talking about. "You have a face that's worth looking at. I was mistaken.
"Can you at least tell me what you're talking about?" I asked, following as he left the room. I couldn't understand this man and neither could I understand why I was following him. I had been so terrified when he had me pinned against the wall and now I was following him now he'd finally set me free. "That's none of your business," he said, waving a hand at me, not even bothering to look back."Really? You just said I'll do. Do for what exactly? I have a right to be concerned, you know. People don't just randomly tell me I'll do without at least giving me some extra info on what exactly I'd do for…"He was too quick for me. Or maybe I was just too busy talking to notice when he moved. I was underneath him, forced to look up into his face which was only about an inch away from mine. Somehow I was floating. He was holding my back. I couldn't move. I was too close. We were too close. I could smell him. My heart was pounding in my chest, a feeling I couldn't particularly describe swell
"What?" I asked, unable to process what I'd just heard. A girlfriend? And they all knew about it? That explained all the curious stares I'd been getting all day. "Oh my God, I shouldn't have said that!" She said, getting up with a scared look on her face. "Natalie's gonna kill me. I'm gonna lose my job. Master Davis will have my head…" "Hey, calm down," I said sharply. I was getting tired of this. "I've told you I won't tell anyone. Now sit down and tell me what I want to hear." It worked. She only did things when she was compelled to do them. That made me feel bad, but I had many other things in mind. "We were all surprised when he brought you in. We all thought he would get married to her. She's the only person he's nice around." Hearing this, I choked on air. Why was I reacting to this piece of information so badly? Besides, I had a boyfriend as well. Since he had a girlfriend, asking him for the money to treat my boyfriend wouldn't feel so out of place anymore. The girl
Everywhere fell silent, the only voice being that of my father cussing and asking Davis to let him go. But Davis didn't. My father who I'd always respected and almost even feared was being pinned down and humiliated by the man he'd made me marry. How ironic. "Let him go, this instant!" My mother quipped, coming into view. Her voice was firm but she stood at a distance, her hand which was holding a glass of wine shaking slightly as she watched Davis. Sometimes I felt bad for her. She was the one who had to stand up for my dad and clean up after his mess whenever he drank too much and made a fool out of himself. Just like now. "Don't mind him. I'll fucking kill him once I get myself unentangled!" My father responded, trying but failing to get himself loose. This was so embarrassing. I wish I hadn't come here. "Please," I whispered, a sick feeling coming to my stomach. "Let him go." I saw an expression that could pass for pity pass through Davis' eyes before he finally let him go