Serena Mclane's P. O. V "What?" Is all I manage to get out as I sit there in my seat. My fidgeting hands come to a halt as I now fist my t-shirt in a tight grip. My mind is completely blank at the moment. I can't seem to be able to process his words. "Dad," I finally manage to get out, "You can't mean that, you wouldn't." I whisper as I look at him for confirmation. I want him to just start laughing, and then hug me and say it's all a big joke, that the entire ordeal was just that; A big joke. But no, of course not. My father never jokes, not with me at least. "You know I don't like repeating myself." My father says sternly as he looks at me. Even though we're sitting face to face, it's as if he's looking down at me. As if he's judging me, finding all my faults and insecurities and displaying them right in front of me. Taunting me with everything. "B-but the business, father. You-I- you wanted me to take over the family business but I-. How?" I ask, finally giving up. I barely have the ability to speak. The shock potent in my words. "I told you, I do not repeat myself." He says standing up now, having to actually repeat himself. "Well you're going to have to this time Dad!" I exclaim as I now too stand up. The anger is as clear as day in his eyes as is in mine. It's like fire against ice. Unfortunately for me, I'm melting and can't do anything about it. "Roger!" My mother says as she too slips into the study with my sister in tow. Just then everything dawns on me. They knew. Both of them knew and neither of them had the decency to tell me. I could have at least been prepared. "Samantha please." Almost immediately my mother silences herself but still walks up to my father. I glance at her with pleading eyes, begging for her to reason with him. She is my mother. She has to do something. I know she would never agree to such a thing. But she remains silent. "Why do I have to-," I pause as I take in a deep breath. I have to stay calm. If I don't I'll only rile my father up more and then there will be no negotiations with him. At all. I try to continue my sentence; "Why do I have to marry someone? Someone I have never met." Just the thought makes tears well up into my eyes. "It will be good for the business," my father starts out calmly, "You do not have enough practical knowledge in regards to the business industry." "That's it? That's why you're making me do this?" I ask in bewilderment. My dad nods his head in acknowledgement but doesn't say anything else. "Dad, you can show me. Why do I need an outsider to show me these things? I have you, don't I?" I plead. We all know this isn't just me asking for his help in the industry. It's something far more than that. Shouldn't a daughter have her father to rely upon? "I have other things I need to take care of. I don't have the time to babysit you and show you the ropes." My heart breaks at his words. I had hope, that maybe, just maybe, he'd be there for me. I agree to do everything he wants me to, just so I get his stamp of approval. So I can be looked at the same way he does my sister. Apparently, I always seem to fail him. "Benedict Stryker is a very good friend of mine. His son, Damien, is a very respectable young man and is well known in the industry. Damien will show you the ropes and he will be a huge step in the right direction to bringing more fame to us." Without one last fleeting look, my father sits down and resumes filing certain things away. I stand there in complete and utter shock. So this is it? This can't be. I go to open my mouth. I have to say something, I need to. Speak up! However instead of rattling off into a motivating speech of human rights and self independence, a hand settles onto my shoulder. My shoulders sag in defeat and all I feel like doing is curling up into a ball and crying for a whole entire day. The hand squeezes my shoulder encouragingly and I finally give in. I can barely even look at my father nor my mother and so I let my sister drag me to wherever she is leading me to. Too consumed in my thoughts and own self belittlement, it takes a while for me to realise I'm standing in front of my own room. "Come on." Sarah whispers as she pulls me into the room. However just hearing her voice makes me snap out of the little trance I'm in. I move passed her and take a seat on the bed, wrapping my arms around myself for comfort. "You knew?" I whisper so low I barely hear myself. Sarah comes over to where I'm sitting and kneels down onto the floor beside me. "I knew." She says. My eyes snap to meet hers, hazel against green. I can see remorse swirling in them as well as pity and grief. That just makes me more angry. It adds fuel to the fire. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask sharply. Sarah leans back, stunned at my tone. "Calm down Serena." She hisses back–equally as sharp– but then composes herself as she takes in a deep breath and shakes her head. "I'm sorry. Ser. I really am. I wanted to tell you but at the same time I couldn't. You know how Dad is, don't you?" She asks, trying to plead with me to forgive her. I know him more than you think you ever will. Unfortunately for Sarah, she barely witnesses the side he has specially reserved for me. "I can't do this Sarah. I won't." I say forcefully. If I can convince one person of my strong will then maybe I can convince my own self that I won't go through with this. "I know, I know. Just give dad some time to relax okay. Give him a few days. He's probably just stressed because of work. He'll never do something like this, it's probably a big scare just to make you serious about the business." Sarah says trying to relax me and make me calm down. Though I know that what she's saying is far from the truth. My father isn't one to play mind games, he goes straight for the kill. Sadly in this situation and as it is in most, I'm the prey. I lie awake in bed throughout the whole night, not catching even a wink of sleep. Sarah promised to stay beside me the whole night but it wasn't necessary, however she lives up to her promises and does so, even though she's out like a light by one o clock. The whole night I lay there thinking on what to do, how to get myself out of this situation. By the time my alarm goes off at ten, I'm still wide awake and mechanically reach out to grab my phone to shut the noise out. Sarah stirs beside me in bed and stretches before looking at me. I glance at her and then look back up to the ceiling, ignoring her. All throughout the night, there were several instances of me wanting to throw her out of my bed, to tell her what a bad person she was for not telling me. I might have been able to speak to my father, explain to him how this was all unnecessary. It still doesn't make sense to me. Why does my father need someone else to teach me everything about our business from another person? I've never even heard of the man nor his son and now–all of a sudden– they're all great friends and I have to marry one of them. "Serena?" Sarah asks as she sits up in bed. "I'm fine." I say in a monotone voice. There's no point of me being rude to her, it'll get me nowhere. And I need someone right now. Whosoever it may be. "Mum's made breakfast." Is all I say as I stand up and make my way out the door, not caring whether my sister is following or not. Entering into the kitchen, I stop at the sight of my father reading his newspaper, as if everything is perfectly okay. "Serena honey, good morning." My mother says as she places a plate at my designated seat at the table. I don't even feel like eating but I know for a fact my mother won't let me go until I do eat. "Aren't you going to answer your mother?" My father curtly asks as he raises his eyes from the newspaper. I furrow my brows in confusion before it suddenly dawns on me. "Morning mum." I whisper, grabbing my knife and fork and forcefully putting a bit of food into my mouth. Mum comes up from behind and squeezes my shoulder while kissing my forehead. The small comfort makes me smile but that soon goes away as my father takes in the interaction. "Make sure you have no plans tonight, we're meeting up with the Strykers'. All of us." My father says. My mouth goes dry and I drop my cutlery, quickly standing up and marching out of the kitchen. "Serena." My father calls but I ignore him and continue to my destination. I need to get out of here.