Chapter 56 CHAPTER 56: Desperate Measures
Adam
It was a long and emotionally draining night for me. After the confrontation with Hazel at her home and what I had seen, I knew in my guts that I had lost her. I could not seem to erase the memory of her staring into William’s eyes like he was her world. The memory had haunted me all the way home and I needed a break from it.
Unfortunately, getting wasted at a bar did nothing to erase the hurt and the nagging voice in my head that she could never be mine again. My heart squeezed at the thought as I stumbled out of my car. How I even drove home in my state was a miracle.
The city lights bled through the gaps in the blinds, casting long stripes across the plush carpet of my apartment.
Exhaustion gnawed at me, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil I had been through. The confrontation with Hazel still resonated in his mind.
As I switched on the light, I hadn't expected to find my father waiting for me in the dark, but there he was perched on the edge of the leather sofa with a stern expression etched on his face and in his immaculately tailored suit which was a stark contrast to my rumpled clothes and weary demeanor. I gulped.
How I managed to miss his car outside and the security detail was a mystery to me. I opened my mouth to speak, but words refused to form and I staggered instead.
Then my father’s voice sliced through the silence, his eyes cold and calculating. “It must be nice being you" My father said sarcastically, giving me a once over.
"Adam. Look at you, the son of a king, playing in the sand with paupers. Are you not ashamed of yourself? What is it this time? Don't you have any shred of dignity? Groveling because of a woman? Sometimes I wish you were not my son!” he spat.
I clenched my fist and gritted my teeth as I fought to wield in the tears “Dad, I-I didn't know you were...please I have had a long day and would love to go to bed if you came here to mock me".
My father’s laughter rang out mockingly before his lips curled into a sneer. "Still in love with the married woman, are we?"
I flinched, his words hitting home. “Dad please”
"We all know your little infatuation with Mrs. Thorn. But let me tell you, son, playtime is over”. He announced.
My throat tightened, my knees gave way and I staggered before I groped my way to the couch and plopped down. "What are you talking about?"
"Choices, Adam," his father announced, his voice laced with a chilling finality. I have had enough of your drama, young man. I have taken matters into my hands now and you will pick a wife. I've narrowed it down to two suitable candidates."
“There's Vivian”, my father continued, a hint of pride entering his voice. "Daughter of the Harrington Media Group, wealthy, beautiful, and understands the value of social standing." I recoiled inwardly.
"Then there's Isabella," my father went on, his voice colder now. "The Duke of Beaumont's eldest daughter. A perfect match politically."
Panic clawed at my throat. I knew both women but none of them held a candle to Hazel nor offered the love I craved. I was not even attracted to any of them. Yet, I couldn't defy my father openly. This was the trap I had always feared, the strings tightening around my life. I couldn't escape my father's machinations forever.
“I have a plan, Dad, and this time i won't disappoint you” I said.
“No, you do not have a plan, you never did except to keep hopping on something that will never be,” he replied.
“Please just give me a week and if by the end of the week I don’t present you with someone, then you can treat me as you want”.
“One week Adam, nothing more, nothing less. If you fail me there will be consequences."
"Sophia," I choked out. My father furrowed his brows.
“Sophia? I never mentioned Sophia” he said.
“I'll talk to Sophia.”
“Who is Sophia”? He asked.
I cleared my throat as it suddenly became dry. “She is a friend”.
He scoffed, “I’m a bit familiar with those kinds of friends. Who is she really? Your second choice? Does her family have a name at least”?
“Her name is Sophia Easton”
“Easton, that name rings a bell” my father said, furrowing his brows as if he was trying to remember something.
I cut in “You must have heard of Richard S. Easton, fondly known as “Ricks of America”. He is the chairperson of…”
“MetroPlex Bank”?
“Yes dad” I replied. My dad stared at me for a second.
“How come you never introduced her to me?” he asked.
“Well, uhm, we never got to that I guess” I said offhandedly.
“I know Ricks really well. We’ve been acquainted for a long time. We ran into each other recently in San Francisco, California the last time I was there. Before he got into the banking industry, he had a successful Fintech startup which he later sold to a major software company. Maybe I could give him a call” he said, turning to me.
“No dad, I need to call Sophia first.”
“I would love to meet Sophia. Invite her for dinner this weekend”. I nodded suddenly, feeling very tired and weak. I had roped myself into a tight spot and was finding it hard to maneuver out of it. Sophia would never agree to such an outrageous thing. I wished I had stuck with his idea of Vivian and Isabella. I thought.
“Goodnight son. Get your act together, I don’t have time for your drama” and with that he marched out, shutting the door gently behind him. I heaved a sigh of relief, but my heart was beating fast thinking about how to convince Sophia to go along with my plan.
Sophia's penthouse was a beautiful mess. Clothes were scattered everywhere on the crazy expensive plush couch in her living room. Two or more scripts were lying around. As I entered her living room, she was lying upside down with a script on the floor while her white polo shirt had shifted to her neck, exposing her red bra top. She was wearing white shorts that hugged her curvy body. She turned her neck in my direction as I entered, her pink lips pursed in concentration.
"Hey," I said, my voice tight.
“Hey yourself, come here and kiss me” she drawled in a Russian accent. I was sure she was practicing for her upcoming film”.
“No, thanks” I replied, which made her giggle. She stood up from her position and came close, her face red from her little exercise.
I sank into the plush couch, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. This wasn't supposed to be difficult, but I couldn’t stop the uneasiness I felt. I guess she felt it too because she frowned and stepped back gazing at me. Then she sat down on the opposite side of the couch.
As I sat across from Sophia, the weight of the conversation in my mind was heavy on my shoulders. I needed to tell her my plan, to lay it all out on the table and hope she'd understood. But as I studied her, her expression guarded and her eyes flickering with hidden emotions, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.
“OK Adam, this isn’t you at all. You don’t call me in the middle of the day telling me you have something you want to discuss with me. You lay it out the way you want and that’s what I love about you. You don’t want to mince words. What happened? Why are you so guarded all of a sudden? Will anything you want to tell me change our relationship?” She asked. Give it to Sophia to hit the nail on the head. She was never the patient one. I took a long sigh and moved closer to her.
"Sophia," I began, my voice shaky despite my attempts to sound confident. "I need to talk to you about us."
Her gaze met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of vulnerability in her eyes before it was quickly replaced by a mask of composure. "What about us, Adam?" she asked, her voice cool and collected.
"My father, he is on my neck…” I started, then faltered.
Sophia's perfectly arched brow rose. "Are we still on this? Your father hasn’t budged on his crazy idea?”
“The pressure is getting worse babe” I said.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked and I nodded.
"Well, spit it out, Adam," she said, her voice clipped. "Don't leave me guessing what's rattling around in that pretty head of yours."
I took a fortifying breath. "Look, I don’t know how you are going to take this, but it’s the only option I’ve got. My father," I explained, frustration creeping into my voice, "he's forcing my hand. He wants me married, and for some reason, you fit the bill perfectly."
Surprise flickered across her face, a momentary lapse in her cool facade. I pressed on before she could mask it.
“How so” she asked
“I need a way out,” I blurted. “A temporary one, at least. Until I can convince the old man to loosen his grip.”
Silence stretched, thick and suffocating. I dared to steal a glance at Sophia. Her gaze was fixed on a distant point, a storm brewing behind her green eyes. Disappointment? Anger? It was impossible to tell.
“And what exactly do you propose?” she finally asked, her voice deceptively calm.
I held her gaze, a desperate hope flickering within me. “A year, Sophia. One year of marriage. We announce it, appease my father, and then…”
My voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air.
“Are you joking, I mean you don’t even love me”? Her brows furrowed.
I gulped “Uhm, it’s really not about love. I’ve known you for a while, and we have shared some pretty crazy times together. I think we can make this work. It’s not going to be for free”.
“What’s in it for me?” she asked.
I let out a sigh “whatever it is you want as long as I can give it”, I replied.
“I want you completely. I don’t want to be your sloppy second, I want to be your Hazel.”
I gritted my teeth “Nobody can ever be Hazel Sophie”. She flinched as if I had slapped her.
“How about money? I know your dad has cut you off for a while now, and you will need money to fund your lifestyle. I can give you that. I could give you stability, and it could help you get back in your dad's good graces. It’s a win for either of us”, I proposed.
“Fuck you Adam” she spat, then stood up and advanced towards me.