Cruel Beloved - Page 8

I lean forward. “Oh, but I did.”

“How could you?” Her mouth drops open, and I want to kiss it. I want to taste her again.

“You had a choice.”

“This isn’t a choice. This is blackmail.”

“If you want to call it that, but we could have had some fun along the way.”

She stands with her phone in hand, then she looks up at me. “Father will hate me. You can’t do this.”

“Sign the contract.” I push it toward her, and she looks at it with uncertainty. “It is only a year out of your life, Carla. One year. Then I will destroy all evidence.”

She blinks a few times then looks up at me again. “You shouldn’t have the evidence anyway. You had this all planned, didn’t you? You picked me knowing who I was?”

I don’t even bother to lie, there’s no point. She has picked it straight away. “I did. I knew exactly who you were.”

Something crosses over her face, and then it’s replaced with rage. Pure, unadulterated rage. She’s furious. “Cancel delivery. Now.” She looks at her phone and I see her eyes glisten. “I never want to be a divorcee. All my life I have wanted to marry the one man who I knew I was going to spend my life with.” A single tear falls down her cheek. “I wasn’t even going to let my father choose that for me. I guess now, he wins, as do you.” She leans down, signs on the dotted line, and stands wiping her hands over her skirt before she turns to walk to the door. “You’ll stop them before they reach him?”

“Yes.”

She doesn’t look back as she walks out.

And I almost feel guilty for what I’m about to do to her.

Almost.

6

Carla

A glass sits in front of me, begging me to drink the contents. But I can’t. Alcohol managed to get me into the dilemma I’m in right now.

“Just tell me what’s wrong with you. All you’ve done is mope and not touch your drink since you arrived.”

“Father hasn’t gotten any deliveries today?” I ask, looking toward his office.

“No, why would he? Now, what’s wrong?” My mother lifts her glass of champagne to her lips and takes a sip. Maybe I get my drinking from her, so I push the glass farther away. That needs to change right this minute.

“I heard a story the other day…” I look up to see my mother already pouring herself a second glass. So, I continue, “One of the Governor’s daughters made a sex tape and her family disowned her…” I pause, giving her room to speak.

“Lucky for us, you aren’t that stupid. Imagine what your father would do.” She laughs.

I laugh. It is dry and false.

“What do you think he would do?”

“Probably the same as the Governor. Scandals shouldn’t be present around us.” She rolls her eyes and walks out, then straight back in with another bottle of champagne. “Why are you asking?” She pauses to think about my question and then I see a light bulb go off in her mind. “Don’t tell me you did something stupid like this?” I watch as her hand starts to go white as she squeezes the bottle’s neck, hard.

“No,” I breathe through the lie.

Mom lets out a hard breath, and goes back to pouring herself another glass of champagne. My father calls her name, and she walks off. When I check my phone, I see I have two messages. There’s one from Emma, and it’s the one I open first.

You signed, didn’t you?

She knows me well. I was hoping to prove her wrong. But as always, I do what’s best for my family. Public image is everything to them.

I’ll explain when I get home.

The text back is instant.

I take that as a yes. I’ll bring the chocolate.

Going to my other text message, I see ‘asshole’ as the sender, and wonder if I should even open it.

Engagement party will be in two weeks. Best to inform your parents now. Would you like me there when you do so?

What the actual fuck!

Oh my God.

No way.

I didn’t even think of actually telling my father I was getting married. I guess I thought I could hide that fact from him. Now, I’m guessing I won’t be able to.

“Carla, your mother said you stopped by.” My father’s presence is intimidating, always has been. I’ve never been able to lie to him. He’s always been an okay father, never around too much unless it was time to show the family off by going to events. I guess it was him who I should thank for my career. All those boring parties, and the only thing to do was to pick at what people were drinking and the design of their clothes.

“Yep, I need to talk to you both.”

My father scrunches his face up. “Can this wait? I’m waiting for a very important call.”

Tags: T.L. Smith Billionaire Romance
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