DREA
Philip avoided my gaze completely and glanced at his mother.
“I never agreed to this.” I thought out loud.
I can’t get married to a stranger. I will not. Yeah, my life here was bad, but who knew what it would be like if I married a stranger?
I’m not willing to take that risk.
“Drea. Don’t ruin this” Ivanka gritted out while smiling, wrapping her fingers around my forearm and gripping tightly.
If it were any other day, it probably would’ve made me cower in fear but today, that was just not happening.
“Mr Smith, I am not going to marry anyone. I did not even agree to this.” I cried out, my vision becoming blurred by tears. I was desperate for someone to tell me that this was just a huge joke.
“I'm afraid to say that this is a legally binding contract. One that was signed by your father before he died. It cannot be breached easily.” He explained.
“Her father?” Philip spoke for the first time since this whole thing started. Oh so now he can speak?
“Yes. It was agreed upon and signed by your father and Mr August Wolfe.” He continued.
Philip seemed to be deep in thought, his face scrunched up with confusion.
Why would my father arrange a marriage I did not want? Why would he do this??
“Why would such a thing be agreed upon without MY opinion?” I sniffled, the tears finally falling.
I just could not hold it in any longer.
Mr Smith looked at me, a look full of pity written all over his face.
An awkward silence settled in the room as Mr Smith cleared his throat uncomfortably.
I looked at Ivanka to see her staring at Philip. It seemed like they were having some sort of silent conversation.
Why?
I was about to say something when Mr Smith spoke up.
“If you have any more questions, Miss Drea, Mr Wolfe advises you to see him at his company.” He continued, reaching into his pocket and bringing out a business card.
I collected it with shaky hands, my chest tight with fear.
With that, he cleared his throat and stood up.
“Please contact me if you have any questions regarding the arrangement.” He stated calmly, handing a card to Ivanka which I assumed was his personal business card.
“Thank you, Mr Smith.” Ivanka smiled, getting up and escorting him to the door.
As soon as I heard the click of the front door, I completely broke down.
“Come here.” Without even thinking, I fell into Philip’s open arms, each sob harder than the previous.
“You’re alright.” He murmured, stroking my hair as a means of comfort.
“What is happening?” I choked out, my body feeing numb.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, wiping my tears which was pointless as more just kept falling.
I heard him sigh, his arms tightening around me.
“I’m sorry Drea. It wasn’t my place to tell you.” Wasn’t your place?
“What aren’t you guys telling me?” He tensed, his entire body becoming rigid as we pulled apart.
“It’s nothing Drea” that was clearly a lie.
I was about to say something when Ivanka walked in, a familiar smirk etched onto her face.
“Why are you overreacting? The guy is a billionaire.” Ivanka commented.
“I don’t want to get married to a stranger.” I exclaimed truthfully.
“Well, that doesn’t matter to me because you’re going to whether you like it or not. Finally, your father has done something beneficial. We are going to be rich!” She gleamed, sighing.
“You didn’t arrange this?” I asked.
She scoffed, flipping her hair and staring directly at me.
“Of course I didn’t. Your Father did. Why? I have no idea.” She muttered the last part to herself.
I looked at her for a second, studying her facial expressions. She did not seem to be lying about not being the one who arranged it.
Why would Dad do this to me?
“I can’t do it.” I stated, wiping my tears with the sleeves of my shirt.
The smile fell off Ivanka’s face as she stood up and inched closer towards me. She bent down to my level, her eyes glaring down at me bitterly. My hands became shaky and my chest tightened.
“Yes, you will. You don’t have a choice. You’re lucky someone wants to marry you. A rich man at that. ” She replied.
“Mom.” Philip warned.
“We all know that’s the only way she can ever be useful in her life. So you…” She started, poking at my chest. Each poke of her finger felt like a nail being hammered into my chest, that heavy feeling settling deep within.
“Are you getting married.”
“All I know is, after all I’ve done for you, I need a reward.” And what exactly has she done for me except torture me emotionally?