Chapter Four
1063 Words
In as much as I hated cooking, I had no other choice than to make breakfast for him. I had to put my grumpy side behind because I can't go hungry for a whole day.
One thing I figured was that he was capable of doing what he says, not like I wanna experience it yet.
I made bacon and eggs with coffee. Something simple. Tilley told me all of his likes and dislikes and just like I expected, he was a picky eater.
Tilley helped me serve his breakfast and just like a jerk he made me stand and watch him finish the whole meal.
He was treating me more like a servant rather than a wife.
Just before he could leave the house, I walked up to him.
"Hey, can I leave the house? I want to visit my dad today."
His icy hazel eyes stared at me, piercing through me like he could shatter me with just a glance.
"You can go, but you have to be back before 6 p.m.," he said coldly.
I almost rolled my eyes. Hell with him and his ridiculous curfew. I’m not a child, for heaven's sake.
As he turned to leave, I grabbed his arm.
"What if I don’t return before 6 p.m.?" I asked, my voice laced with defiance.
He leaned slightly toward me, his gaze dark and menacing. "I don’t think you want to find out what will happen to you."
The way he said it sent shivers down my spine.
A thousand possibilities raced through my mind. Would he beat me? Lock me up somewhere filthy? Starve me like he once threatened if I didn’t cook for him?
I watched him walk out of the house, my fingers nervously fiddling with each other.
"My brother gave you quite the scare, didn’t he?" someone whispered into my ear, making me jump in fright.
"Oops! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you," the man said, smiling as he stretched his hand toward me. "I’m Ambrose, your brother-in-law."
I stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before cautiously shaking it.
"What a beauty we’ve got here," he teased. "Never thought Clifford would settle for someone so innocent and calm. Maybe he didn’t want someone who could go up against him."
I blinked, still trying to process his presence.
Where the hell did he come from? I thought Clifford and I were the only ones living in this mansion.
First, I saw that strange woman early this morning, and now this Ambrose guy claiming to be Clifford’s brother.
"Sorry I missed the wedding," he continued. "I was caught up with business meetings, but I’ll make it up to you—if Clifford lets me, of course."
I nodded, still taking in his unexpected appearance.
"Are you his only sibling?" I found myself asking.
"Yes, but sadly, my brother doesn’t even acknowledge my existence," he replied with a bitter smile.
The way he answered made him seem like a nice person—the total opposite of Clifford.
"So, what did my brother do to get you all worked up this morning?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
I scoffed. "Just your brother being a hard-ass jerk."
Ambrose laughed. "Woah! Easy, girl. You seem pissed."
I ended up chatting with Ambrose all morning. We even had breakfast together, and for the first time in a while, I felt a little lighter.
Later, I dressed up to visit my dad at his office. I needed answers about this "agreement" nonsense.
I slipped on some flat shoes, checked my reflection in the mirror, and then headed out of the room.
When I got outside, I saw the driver already waiting for me. He opened the car door, and I climbed in.
The ride was long, but eventually, the car stopped in front of my father’s company.
I stepped out and made my way inside, heading straight to the receptionist’s desk.
Flashing her a polite smile, I said, "I’m here to see Mr. Michael Jones."
"Did you book an appointment?"
"I don’t think I need to. I’m his daughter," I replied, and her mouth formed an 'O.'
"Please give me a minute, ma’am," she said, quickly making a call.
"It’s this way—take the private elevator to the last floor, and his secretary will lead you to his office," she said, and I walked away.
Following her instructions, I took the elevator to the last floor, where I saw a blond woman standing in front of an office.
"You must be Miss Beatrice," she said, and I nodded. I didn’t bother correcting her that I was married.
"Your father is expecting you," she added, pointing to a tinted glass door. I pushed it open and saw my father completely focused on what he was reading.
"Ahem!" I faked a cough, and his eyes snapped up to meet mine.
"Honey, I thought you were never going to see me again, considering I forced you to marry," he said with a smile.
"As much as I should be angry, I just don’t see myself doing that," I replied before walking over to hug him.
He patted my back, and I felt so secure in his embrace. We stayed like that for a few minutes before I finally pulled away.
"It’s only been a day, and you’re making it feel like forever."
"That’s what you get for sending me away," I huffed.
"You know I never wanted this," he sighed.
"But it happened anyway. All I keep hearing about is some agreement, and I just need to know what it’s all about. Tell me, Dad—what did Clifford offer you? Because I know it’s not nothing," I said, noticing his eyes shift uneasily.
He was definitely hiding something, and I couldn’t understand why it was so hard for him to just admit it.
"Go home, Beatrice, or stay for lunch if you like. But there’s no agreement between Clifford and me," he said, clearly trying to dismiss the topic.
I wasn’t going to back down like I did two weeks ago.
"I’m sorry, Dad, but I’m going against you on this. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to get a lawyer and divorce Clifford this minute," I declared.
"Then I’ll lose everything I’ve built to this extent. Is that really what you want?"
- Writer
