THE DEPTH BRIDE: Heir To Toronto

THE DEPTH BRIDE: Heir To Toronto *Chapter 1: The Birthday That Cost Me Everything* *Scene 1: The Perfect Angel… Until Now* My name is Mandy Margason. And if you looked me up in the dictionary under “Angel,” you’d see my graduation photo. Seriously. 18. Straight A’s. Never been suspended. Never been drunk. Never even kissed a boy without imagining my future husband’s permission slip. My best friend Carl says I’m “dangerously boring.” He’s not wrong. I live in a mansion that has more rooms than my brain has common sense. Marble floors, a chandelier that could kill a man if it fell, and a dad who still tucks me in with “Goodnight, my angel” even though I’m technically an adult now. Mom would’ve been proud. She died on my 10th birthday. Cake in the oven, balloons on the ceiling, and her heart just… stopped. Dad said she “celebrated herself right out of this world.” We don’t laugh about it much. Since then it’s been me, Dad, and my older brother Javi. Javi is 24, six-foot-something, jawline that could cut glass, and the personality of a wet tax form. By “family tradition” — aka Dad’s ego — Javi has to take over the Margason legacy, the Margason name, the Margason company, and basically the Margason universe when Dad retires. Javi hates it. I don’t blame him. But me? I was free. High school: done. College: next month. Major: Psychology, so I could finally understand why Javi scowls at breakfast. Life of an angel. No problems. No drama. I was wrong. *Scene 2: Best Friend Carl Has No Chill* “Mandyyyyy! You graduated!” Carl screamed, kicking open my bedroom door without knocking. Because boundaries are for people who don’t share fries. He’s been my best friend since we were 7 and he dared me to eat a worm. I didn’t. He did. We’ve been even since. “You’re supposed to be planning your college dorm, not moping like a Disney princess,” he said, flopping on my bed. “What’s the plan? Harvard? Yale? A rich husband?” “Psychology at State,” I said, zipping my suitcase. “And no rich husband. I’m focusing on me.” Carl gasped like I insulted his mother. “No rich husband? Mandy, your last name is Margason. Your dad owns half the city. You could trip and land in a billionaire’s lap.” “Carl—” “Ding dong,” he interrupted, pointing at the window. “That’s probably your future.” It wasn’t. It was Javi, glaring at us from the driveway like we’d set the mansion on fire. “Javi’s in a mood,” I whispered. “Javi’s always in a mood,” Carl whispered back. “That’s his cardio.” *Scene 3: The Meeting I Wasn’t Invited To* Later that night, Dad called for “family dinner.” Fancy talk for: something’s wrong. Dad looked tired. Javi looked murderous. And there was a third chair at the table that was empty. “Guests coming?” I asked, reaching for bread. “Sit up straight, Mandy,” Dad said. “And no questions tonight.” After dinner, Dad and Javi disappeared into Dad’s study. The door closed. Voices rose. “…can’t pay it, Dad. The deadline is up.” “I know, Javi.” “They’ll take everything.” I’m not a saint. I’m curious. So I did what any “angel” would do. I eavesdropped. The Margason study has these ridiculous double doors. If you press your ear to the left panel, you can hear everything. I learned that at 12 when Javi was hiding chocolate. “…the Japheth debt,” Dad was saying. His voice cracked. “It’s due. Today.” “The Japheths?” That was Javi. “Dad, that debt is 30 years old. Grandpa made it.” “And we inherited it,” Dad said. “Along with the name.” My stomach dropped. Debt? The Margasons? We have a pool. We have three cars. We have a dog walker. The door opened. I yelped and fell backward onto the hallway floor like a cartoon villain. “Mandy,” Dad said, staring down at me. “Hi,” I said, from the floor. “I was… dusting. With my ear.” Javi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go to your room.” “No,” I said, scrambling up. “What debt? Who are the Japheths?” Dad’s eyes were wet. That scared me more than anything. “It’s adult business, baby.” “I’m 18,” I said. “That’s adult. That’s literally adult.” The front doorbell rang. Deep. Expensive. Judgmental. Dad froze. Javi stood up straighter. I hid behind the hallway plant like a genius. A man walked in. Tall. Dark suit. Dark hair. Dark everything. He looked like he was carved out of a storm cloud and taught how to ruin lives. “Mr. Margason,” he said. Voice low. No smile. “Rodrick Japheth.” The first son of the Japheths. He was younger than I expected. Maybe 26. But his eyes were old. Like he’d already seen my future and wasn’t impressed. “Mr. Japheth,” Dad said. “Thank you for coming.” “I didn’t come for tea,” Rodrick said. “I came to collect.” Collect what? I mouthed at Javi. Javi looked like he wanted to evaporate me. “Our debt,” Dad said. “We… we can’t pay the full amount by today.” Rodrick didn’t blink. “Then you lose the mansion. The company. The name.” Javi stepped forward. “You can’t—” “I can,” Rodrick cut in. “Unless…” Unless. The most dangerous word in the English language. “Unless what?” I said, stepping out from the plant. Because I have zero survival instincts. Four heads turned to me. “Who is this?” Rodrick asked, finally looking at me. “My daughter,” Dad said quickly. “Mandy. She’s not part of—” “I’m part of it now,” I said. “What’s the ‘unless’?” Rodrick’s eyes dragged over me. Slow. Assessing. Like I was a math problem. “You,” he said. Me? I pointed at my chest. “Me what? Unless I do what, solve it with a bake sale?” A corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost. “Unless I take their daughter.” The room went silent. I blinked. “Take? Like… adopt me? Because I’m 18, sir, that’s weird.” Javi made a strangled noise. Dad looked like he’d been shot. “Marry her,” Rodrick said, flat. “Marry me. Sign the papers tonight. The debt is canceled. The Margason name stays. Everyone stared at me. “No?” Javi said. “No,” I repeated, louder. “You don’t get to show up, call my family bankrupt, and order me like pizza. I’m not an item on a menu.” Rodrick’s almost-smile vanished. “You don’t understand the position you’re in, Miss Margason.” “Then explain it,” I snapped. “Because from where I’m standing, your family has been waiting 30 years to collect, and now you want my hand in marriage like it’s 1820?” “Your father signed a contract,” Rodrick said. “Your grandfather did too. If the debt isn’t paid, the Japheths are entitled to an heir from the Margason line.” “An heir,” I repeated. “You mean a wife.” “I mean a solution,” he said. Dad stepped between us. “Mandy, please. We’re drowning.” “So drown me with you? “It’s not like that—” “It’s exactly like that,” I said. Tears burned, but I wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. “You have 24 hours,” Rodrick said. He pulled an envelope from his jacket. “Sign, or I take everything by morning.” He set it on the table. “Think about it, Miss Margason.” He turned to leave. Then stopped. “For what it’s worth,” he said, without looking back, “I don’t want this either.” Then he was gone. *Scene 6: Aftermath + Humour Break* The door closed. Javi collapsed into a chair. “We’re screwed.” Dad put his head in his hands. And me? I picked up the envelope. My hands shook. “Okay,” I said. “New plan.” “Don’t,” Javi said. “I’m an angel,” I said, opening it. “Angels make bad deals and then regret them dramatically.” Carl chose that exact second to text me: `u up? wanna celebrate grad? I laughed. It came out hysterical. “Carl wants to celebrate. I’m about to marry a storm cloud to save a mansion I don’t even like.” “Mandy, you don’t have to—” “Yes, I do,” I said. And I hated myself for saying it. “Because you’re my dad. And Javi’s my brother. And I’m a Margason.” “Fine,” I whispered. “But if I have to marry him, I’m making his life hell.” *End Chapter 1*