His grip was overpowering and dominating, and I had the terrible feeling this was only a small taste of the control he craved. He held on to me as he spoke. “While I would have preferred you accepted my initial offering, I respect that you didn’t. Maybe there’s a brain in there beneath that ridiculous hair you’ve got.” His compliment was mostly backhanded. Then he added, “I can see why Royce likes you.”
Since he still had hold of me, Macalister had to feel the jolt traveling through my body. My gaze snapped to his son. Alarm blared loudly on Royce’s expression but was shuttered instantly.
“I don’t,” he said quickly. “Like I told you before, either Northcott girl is fine with me.”
My brain quit functioning, and the word fired off before I could rein it in. “Wow.”
As he retreated into his emotionless, statue-like state, I must have misinterpreted his reaction from before. He didn’t care about my sister or me. We were interchangeable women to be married off. Merely a commodity.
Aren’t you?
I’d just sold myself to him.
Turmoil churned in my belly, and for a moment, I wondered if I too would throw up all over Macalister’s hand. I jerked back and forced my anxiety down. The full scope of what I’d agreed to hadn’t hit me yet, and I needed to keep it together long enough until the Hales were gone. Then I could process the terrible decision I’d made.
A sinister smile lifted on Macalister’s lips as he looked at his son, as if he wanted to see Royce squirm. “If that’s true, what was all that on the car ride over here?”
“It was nothing.” His voice was clipped. “I think it’s time for dessert.” When no one moved, he prompted my mother. “Mrs. Northcott?”
God, what an arrogant prick.
I didn’t eat any of the chocolate tart Delphine served. My parents didn’t either, unless my mother pushing around the raspberries with her fork counted. My family had no appetite following all the shit that went down. We sat as captives while Macalister laid out the instructions for the next month of my life.
An appointment was set up with Alice Hale. Royce’s stepmother would meet me at her favorite salon and personally approve the “drastic changes” Macalister said were required to bring me in line with the Hale brand. Obviously, my evergreen hair color would be the first thing to go.
After coaching, which I was sure would be extensive, I’d sit for an initial interview with the board of HBHC. If I passed, a more extensive interview would be held just before the party celebrating Royce’s new position. It would be lavish and extravagant, and the event of the year.
If I was approved, Macalister would announce his son’s engagement to me during his toast that evening.
I saw my opening for a momentary escape when Delphine came in and began to clear the untouched desserts. I set my napkin on the table and seized my plate. “If you’ll excuse me.”
My legs wobbled as I pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen, and the plate clattered as I set it beside the sink. Delphine followed right behind me. Did she know? Did she have any idea my parents were in deep financial trouble and she could be out of a job very soon? Her questioning look was too hard to stomach, and I fled into the empty sitting room.
I shut the door and sank back against it, closed my eyes, and cupped a hand to my forehead. I fought my trembling bottom lip because I was on overload, but I refused to succumb to my emotions. I didn’t want to face them again with a blotchy face and give them the upper hand, plus crying wasn’t going to solve anything.
And it certainly wasn’t going to undo what had been done.
Holy shit, I said I’d marry Royce. Until now, I’d spent my life obscured in Emily’s shadow and I liked it that way. There would be nowhere to hide once I became the princess of Cape Hill.
Deep breaths.
You might not make it that far.
If I couldn’t win the ridiculous approval of the board, at least I’d bought some time to get my parents’ finances in order. With a plan of action drafted up, the helplessness inside me dimmed just enough so I could straighten, press my cool fingertips to my warm cheeks, and calm down. I turned, pulled open the door, and buried my face in a dress shirt as I collided with a hard, male chest.
Royce’s hands clamped down on my shoulders.
My gasp had no impact on him. He drove me back into the room and pulled the door closed behind us. His expression was . . . off. He had the audacity to look concerned.
“Are you all right?”
I blinked. “Are you fucking kidding me?”