I paced the length of my father’s office, the Persian rug under my feet silencing the clicks of my red bottom heels. My mind ran agog with all the scenarios that could take place, all the ways that this could go wrong. I swore and wiped my sweaty palms in my skirt. My heart skipped a beat when the door opened and my father sauntered in, dressed immaculately in a pristine suit. As he came closer, I saw that he was beginning to bald, and j subconsciously wondered when he would die. Sudden guilt filled my chest at the thought, but I couldn’t help myself. He smiled and pulled me into his arms. I wrapped stiff arms around me and enjoyed the warmth, knowing that I was about to see the devil in him in the coming minutes.
“Samantha, so nice of you to finally stop by. I was beginning to think that you’ve forgotten your own family,” he said and settled into the sofa positioned in the middle of his office.
I managed a smile. “Well…I’ve been busy.”
My father chuckled. “Of course, it’s not easy planning a wedding to the most eligible bachelor in the country.”
“Hmm…it truly isn’t,” I replied.
“So, how’s it going? Have you chosen a date? Where? How many people? It should be an exclusive wedding, only the crème de la crème….”
“The wedding won’t hold,” I blurted out, disrupting my father’s fantasy.
At first, shock clouded his face. And I would have laughed if not for the severity of the situation. Shock gave way to anger, a stormy look clouding his face. He sat up on the sofa, and instinctively took a few steps back. His eyes darkened and his face began to take on an unusual shade of red.
“What did you say?” He asked, his voice portraying a calm that his face betrayed.
“The wedding won’t hold…”
Like lightning, my father was out of his chair, and before I could comprehend what was happening, the force of his slap sent me down to the floor. I sat up, tears clouding my vision. I opened my mouth and took in mouthfuls of air, and even through the tears, I saw the blood that dropped slowly out of my mouth, the metallic aftertaste heavy in my mouth.
“You fool!” He said, advancing towards me. “Why would you mess this up? Do you not know how important this is?!”
“There’s nothing I can do…” I said my voice barely above a whisper. “There’s someone else…a man…he loves him…”
“I don’t give a fuck, Samantha! You will not spoil my plans!!”
He looked down at me, his lips turned down in a grimace, and shook his head at me in disappointment.
“You’re such a failure…” he said. “If only your mother had given me one more daughter before she died.”
“I’m sorry…”
I wasn’t sure what it was I was apologizing for, it just seemed like the right thing to say in the moment. My father walked over to the window and looked down at the wide expanse of his property. His words hung heavy in the air, echoing in the silence of the room. My cheek throbbed from the force of his slap, but the pain in my heart was far worse. I struggled to push myself off the floor, feeling the cold, hardwood beneath my palms. The taste of blood lingered on my tongue, bitter and metallic. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, not after what he’d just done, not after the cruel words he’d hurled at me. This wasn’t new, but it still managed to hurt my soul every time.
He continued to stare out the window, his back to me as if I didn’t even exist. His hands were clasped behind his back, the posture of a man who believed he was in control of everything, who believed that nothing could slip through his fingers. But I knew better now. I knew that no matter how much power he wielded, there were things even he couldn’t control. Things like love.
I wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand, forcing myself to stand. My legs trembled beneath me, but I steadied myself, refusing to let him see how much he’d hurt me. I couldn’t let him break me, not now, not when I was already so close to shattering.
“You think I care about your apologies?” His voice was cold, cutting through the quiet like a hot knife through butter. He still didn’t turn around. “Apologies won’t fix this. Apologies won’t secure our future. Do you have any idea what’s at stake here, Samantha?”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Yes, Father. I know exactly what’s at stake. But you can’t force Oliver to marry me if he doesn’t want to. And you can’t force me to marry him when I know he loves someone else.”
He finally turned to face me, his eyes narrowed with contempt. “You weak, foolish girl. Do you think love matters in this world? Do you think it has any place in the world we live in?” He took a step closer, and I instinctively recoiled, my back hitting the wall. “Love is a distraction, a weakness. Power, and wealth—that’s what matters. That’s what you should be focused on.”
“Maybe it’s not all that matters,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. But the words felt hollow, even to me. What did I know of love? What did I know of anything outside the gilded cage he’d built around me?
He shook his head, disgust evident in his expression. “You’ve always been soft, Samantha. Too much like your mother. And look where that got her—dead, and forgotten.”
My breath caught in my throat at his words, a fresh wave of pain washing over me. He never spoke of my mother, and when he did, it was always with disdain. It was as if her memory was something shameful, something to be buried and forgotten, just like he’d said. But I couldn’t forget her, no matter how much he wanted me to. She was the only person who had ever shown me real love, the only person who had ever seen me as more than just a pawn in my father’s games. If she was here, she wouldn’t let him treat me like this.
“Please, Father,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’ll do whatever you ask, just…just give me time. Let me talk to Oliver. Maybe I can convince him to—”
“To what?” he snapped, cutting me off. “To marry you out of pity? Out of some misguided sense of duty? You’re a fool, Samantha, if you think that will work.”
“I’m not a fool,” I fired back, surprising even myself with the strength in my voice. “And I won’t let you treat me like one. I’ll find a way to make this right. I’ll find a way to make Oliver see that I’m the right choice.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You are your mother’s daughter,” he said, almost to himself. “She had that same fire in her, that same misguided belief that she could change the world. It didn’t save her, and it won’t save you.”
I bit my lip, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill. I couldn’t cry, not now. I had to be strong, for myself, for whatever future I might still have.
“You have one week,” he said finally, his voice cold and hard again. “One week to convince Oliver to marry you. If you fail, I’ll take matters into my own hands. And believe me, Samantha, you won’t like what happens if I have to step in.”
His words sent a chill down my spine, but I forced myself to nod.
“I understand,” I said quietly. “I won’t let you down.”
“See that you don’t,” he replied, turning back to the window. “And remember, Samantha—everything is riding on this. If you fail, it’s not just your future that’s at stake. It’s the future of this family, of everything we’ve built.”
I nodded again, though he couldn’t see me. “I won’t fail,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
Even as I said the words, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind. How could I convince Oliver to marry me when his heart belonged to someone else? How could I fight against a love that was real and true, when all I had to offer was a marriage of convenience, built on lies and manipulation?
As I left my father’s office, I felt a heavy weight settle on my shoulders. The path ahead was filled with danger and uncertainty, and I was walking it alone. But I had no choice. If I didn’t succeed, my father would destroy everything I cared about. And I couldn’t let that happen. Not now, not ever.
I had one week to secure my future, to secure Oliver’s heart. And I was willing to do whatever it would take to achieve that goal.