Alina
“PLEASE DON’T SAY it,” I whispered, lowering my eyes to stare at the marble floor beneath my feet. The hemline of my gown swayed ever so slightly while I waited for fated words to rain down on me. So many images rushed in, mainly fantasies I had of a life I’d never get to live. A life of my own, one where I was in control of my own future. My own destiny. But no amount of dreaming would save me from my reality.
I prayed for time to stand still, but it was mere seconds before I heard him suck in air, expel a breath and speak the words I knew were inevitable.
“It’s time, Alina. You’re of age now, old enough to settle down and start a family. Chris is a fine choice, and will make a great husband and father.”
“But I don’t want to marry him,” I cried out, lifting my eyes in a last-ditch effort of battle, exasperation ebbing into every cell of my body.
“You don’t have a choice,” he countered, arching a brow at my tone.
My life had never been my own. My father made every major decision for me, from who I dated, to what college I attended, what degree I’d earn, which was a law degree just like him, and now apparently who I’d marry.
I fought him at every turn, but in the end, he always won. No one had ever gone up against the almighty powerful Randall Winthrop and came out the victor, including his only daughter.
“I should,” I replied in anger. “I should decide who I marry, who shares my bed and definitely who I breed with.” I chose the word “breed” because he was treating me as if I were nothing more than a prized thoroughbred, being paired off to give my owner champion offspring.
“Stop being so dramatic,” he chastised. “We’ve had this discussion a million times. I’m not risking having everything I’ve worked for wiped away in an instant because you wish to believe in some silly notion of true love.”
My father had grown up poor, but with hard work and determination to change the course of his life, he ended up founding the largest law firm on the entire east coast. Early on in his career, he’d taken on two partners, Brian Krueger and Curtis Donn, my father being the managing partner of the group. One day he’d hand down his position to me.
“What if I don’t want to inherit the firm someday? What if I want to follow my own path?” I was being stubborn, one of the attributes I had in common with my father.
I worked at Winthrop, Krueger, and Donn, half of my caseload being pro bono. It was my passion to help those less fortunate, to assist them in their time of need. Just because they couldn’t afford proper representation didn’t mean justice shouldn’t be served. My father allowed me to be the bleeding heart of the firm because he thought it made us look even more valuable in the eyes of the public. Sympathetic. Goliath fighting for David.
Anger embraced his demeanor, his otherwise cool façade cracking ever so slightly. “You know damn well you won’t walk away from the firm. Not when you can eventually employ an entire team dedicated to working for the indigent. And that, my dearest daughter, is more important to you than who you marry. We both know it. So stop resisting, and be happy. I know I am.”
“That’s only because you can control Chris, and I’m sure he’s agreed to an ironclad prenup.”
“There’s that,” he agreed. “But I wouldn’t have chosen him for you if he wasn’t a good man.”
While my father was a resolute man, I knew he loved me and would never make me marry someone who wasn’t kind.
Tiring of the back and forth, he stepped closer and gripped my shoulders. “You have to forget about the fantasy of meeting your knight in shining armor. That stuff doesn’t exist. Not in the real world. So stop reading your romance novels and get your head out of the clouds.” His words crushed whatever hope I had left that he would come around and take back his absurd request. Oh, who was I kidding? It wasn’t a request. It was a demand.
When he saw I was still holding fast to whatever resolve remained within, he changed his tone to a softer one. One of a father asking his only daughter to comply. “Don’t you want to make me happy, honey?” The slightest smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and I wanted nothing more than to keep that expression on his face for as long as possible. My father was a serious man, had always been. There were only a few precious memories I had when he’d been relaxed enough to laugh and really embrace the moment, most of them involving my mother before she died.
“Of course I do.”
“Then do this for me. No more arguing. Chris is a fine match.”
“I don’t trust him,” I revealed, knowing most of my mistrust sprang from ignorance. I didn’t know Chris all that well, so how could I trust someone I barely knew. But my father didn’t take the bait.
“You’re just nervous.” He dismissed my comment, waving his hand in the air as if I was the one who was completely crazy for voicing any kind of concern. I was busy staring at the way the lighting from the chandelier above our heads reflected off the gray at his temples when he shocked me with an intrusive question, one that came right out of left field. “Have you slept with him yet?”
“Dad!” I exclaimed, a rush of heat spreading over my cheeks.
“Have you?” he repeated, completely oblivious to my embarrassment at having been asked if I’d spread my legs for the man I’d only been dating for a month.
“No.”
“Well, you need to correct that. And do it soon. It took me a while to find you a good match, and I don’t want you to mess it up because you’re holding on to some ideal of waiting.”
I blinked over and over, so rapidly I thought I’d fall over with dizziness. What the hell was happening? Were we really having this conversation? It was so absurd I thought for sure he’d break out in a smile and tell me our entire conversation was just some sort of prank. Then I quickly remembered my father didn’t joke around.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“Of course not. Now, get yourself together. I’m announcing your engagement in the next hour.”
Grasping at straws, praying Chris had sense enough to realize what a rushed decision this was, I asked, “Did you tell Chris you plan on cementing his future tonight?”
“He knows, and he’s fully on board. He cares for you. I can tell by the way he looks at you.” That’s lust I wanted to blurt but didn’t want to encourage any more talk of sex from my father. “He’s agreed a fall wedding is best. No use in putting off your future.”
In the midst of our conversation, I’d resorted to pacing, still desperately trying to wrap my brain around all of it, but had quickly stopped when he mentioned a fall wedding. “What?” I screamed, lowering my voice when I saw the heated look on his face. “A fall wedding? That’s only five months from now.” A rush of emotions barreled through me, and because none of them would do me any good to express, I stomped my foot like some errant, spoiled brat before turning on my heel and hightailing it out of the room, my father shouting for me to come back. For once in my life, I ignored him, picking up the pace and disappearing back into the grand ballroom we’d been in before he snatched me and told me of his idiotic plan for my future.