Serena Mclane's P. O. V My phone vigorously vibrating in my hand alerts me to the fact that my peace has very quickly come to an end. I sigh out loud as I lean my head back against the worn out handle of the swings, gazing at the slightly darkening sky. Time always seems to pass quick here though I still can't believe I've spent several hours out here. It's funny how every time I walk out of the house to get some peace and quite, they think I've gone somewhere far that nobody knows about. I'd love to see their faces that all along I've actually just been behind the shed–on the swing sets– in our garden. It's actually sad to be honest. They never even bother to look for me when I go missing for hours on end. What's even more pathetic is that I always want my father to come after me. After all the countless arguments, I always run away to here, hoping my father would come out, chasing after me. But I guess that sort of stuff only happens in movies. I wonder if my father even comes here anymore. Probably not. I let out a groan as my phone starts vibrating once more. Signaling that this time, I actually will have to leave my little sanctuary. Getting up from the–nearly to small– swing seat, I straighten out my clothes and brush my hair away from my face. Trying to do whatever I can to make me seem less of a mess. I walk the short distance from my garden to the house and enter in through the backdoor. Walking into the living room, I stop as my father stands there, all dressed up in a suit. "Don't be late next time and answer your phone. Get dressed we're leaving." Dad says tersely. I robotically nod my head and turn to march up the stairs but instead I swivel back around and look at my father, who looks straight back with an eyebrow raised. "I want to talk with you dad." I mutter as I glance at the tiled ground. My father grunts in response. I'll take that as yes then. Better than nothing right? Mustering up the courage, I look my father dead in the eyes. "I just want to know why? I need to understand why this is all necessary." I say. By now, I'm grasping at straws. At anything that will help me to understand why this is all happening. All father had giving me, are vague barely one sentence answers. I deserve more than that. Especially if he's entrusting my entire future into some mans hands that I've never even met. I don't know who or what this Damien even is. "I have already told you Serena. I am your father and I know better especially in regards to your wellbeing and your future." He answers tersely, "I don't want to hear more remarks from you regarding this occasion am I clear?" He further asks. I nod my head and quickly turn to leave. The feeling of hopelessness encompassing me once more. However as soon as I take a step to leave, my father intentionally clears his throat. Turning to face him, I see his eyebrow raised and a meaningful look on his face. "Yes father, I understand. Can I leave to get ready now?" I ask in a low voice, my eyes directed to the floor. "You may leave." Without needing to hear any more of his mordacious words, I make a beeline for the stairs and then to my room, only to find a stunning and well dressed Sarah perched on my bed. "Come on sis. Dad says I have to make you look good for meeting the Stryker's." She says happily. Well that sort of stings. Not in the mood to throw a tantrum and object to anything, I simply slouch into the seat in front of my dresser and allow her to do whatever it is she needs to. After a half hour or so Sarah is surprisingly done. "That was fast." I murmur as I get up. "Yeah, I mainly focused on your hair." She says shrugging. She probably hurried up because Dad is waiting for us downstairs. Sarah points to a dress and some heels as she makes her way of my room. "From my more austere collection," she giggles, pointing to the dress, "Oh and hurry up." She says as she closes the door. Why can't I just go in my holed up sweats? At least they were comfortable. Grabbing the dress, I quickly scan it and shrug. It isn't as bad as I was expecting. A sleeveless lace number with a bit of ribbon separating the bust from the lower end. Not too fancy but good enough for a dinner. Slipping the dress on along with the plain white heels, I glance in the mirror, fine with how I looked. Shaking my head, I rush out of my room. Not wanting to make my situation worse with being late, I nearly run down the stairs and scramble into the living room. "I'm here." I call out to the empty room. Where is everyone? Just then Sarah enters into the room putting in an earring. "Mums getting ready, it'll take around half an hour." Why the hell does this always happen to me? "I want to talk with you." Sarah says as she grabs my hand and sits me down on the two seater sofa. Glancing at my hands in hers, I let it be for a few seconds before inconspicuously removing my hand from her grasp. "Go ahead." I murmur as I quickly adjust how I'm sitting. The negative side to wearing jeans and shorts for long, you forget you can't sit with your legs splayed open. "I know this is a lot to take on but I hope you aren't having any bad thoughts." She says gently as she looks at me straight in the eyes. What does she mean by 'bad thoughts'? "What sort of thoughts?" I question. "Well things such as running away or giving up your family and the business. You can't do that Serena. You know that right?" She asks as she takes my hand in hers once more. I make sure my face masks into the perfect amount of faux confusion and surprise. Of course I thought about it. I've thought about running away from here ever since my father opened his mouth about the arranged marriage. But I know, I can't. Not that I don't want to but I simply can't. My father has men everywhere. He probably already makes sure he has eyes on me at all times. Since I am the heir to his precious business. If I run, it'll only be a matter of days since he finds me. He did it once– though me running away at the age of seven due to not getting dessert before diner is hardly a great comparison– he'll do it again. "I would never put the family or the business in such a position. I had never even thought of it." I say lying through my teeth. Luckily though, she buys it and smiles at me before pulling me into a brisk hug. By that time both my mother and father enter into the room. My stomach immediately clenches at the thought and my heart starts to hammer wildly in my chest. Here goes nothing. ******** "Do you know what this Damien guy is like?" I ask hesitantly as Sarah gets out of the car next to me. She nods her head in confirmation. "Yeah I've met him a few times and if it's any consolation, he's young and incredibly good looking." She says, winking at me. As if that makes me feel better. Honestly speaking, it makes me feel slightly better. The thought of marrying someone perverted in their late forties with balding hair and paunch stomach, makes me even more reluctant than I currently am. But luckily he doesn't look like that at all. Glancing up at the estate doors we are walking towards makes my breath hitch in my throat. It is absolutely beautiful. With its dips and arches and regal stonework structure. It looks like something out of a fairytale. But all this for just two people? Seems a bit excessive to me. "Hurry up girls." My mother says as she stands in front of their main door, a maid already standing there with a huge smile on her face. I gulp nervously but still fasten my movements. "Mr. and Mrs. Benedict are expecting you. Please do come in." My father throws me a sharp look that I know means 'behave yourself.' Entering into the house, I barely take in the crème coloured walls and blinding chandeliers. My hands itch to grab onto a part of the dress so that I can twist and pull and tug at it. But obviously I can't do that. My gaze has been focused on the marble floor ever since we step foot into this place. "Ah. Roger! Samantha! It is great to meet you again." Comes a voice. Glancing up, I come face to face with a man in his late fifties to early sixties. His brown hair has streaks of silver running through them and he has hypnotising chocolate brown eyes. Along with that a bright dazzling smile adorns his face. If it weren't for the fact that I am supposedly marrying this mans son, I would have liked him, I'm sure. "You too Benedict." My father says, that same– now familiar–pretentious smile crossing his face. "It's lovely to see you." My mother replies. Mr. Stryker smiles at them and then averts his eyes to my sister and I. An even bigger smile crossing his face. "Serena, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Your sister is an amazing young girl and I'm sure you are too." He says firmly as he pats me on the shoulder. Is there any chance they prefer my sister more than me and want her for their son instead? "The pleasure is all mine Mr. Stryker." I say smiling. God, it feels weird to say that. "Please there is no need to be formal. We're all going to be family very soon aren't we?" Just hearing that feminine voice makes my stomach lurch to my throat as disappointment fills me. I'm guessing a no to my prior question then. Pleasantries are exchanged as we all greet Katelyn, Mrs. Stryker. A half hour goes by and with each passing second; I grow more and more panicky. Unfortunately for me though, I'm the main source of conversation as questions are directed at me, left right and center. Just when I feel as if I'm about to explode with anticipation, the door leading to the guest living room opens and a maid makes her way through. "Mr. Damien Stryker is here, Sir." She announces in a timid voice. Benedict smiles and nods his head as he stands up. "Great, send him in, send him in." He says as he motions with his hand. My throats goes dry and I start to fidget with my fingers as I turn to look at the door opening once more. "I apologize for being late." Comes a cool suave voice as the person finally enters the room.