Veil of Resistance

Evie How could they even consider it? How could they possibly do this to me? Why would they? God da.mn it! I slammed hard on my brakes, feeling the seatbelt dig into my chest with a painful snap - but I didn’t care. My blood was boiling. I flung open the car door and slammed it shut behind me. It wasn't my babe’s fault, but the rage surging through me needed an outlet. Walking briskly across the perfectly manicured lawn, my anger only grew stronger with every step. How...? Why...? What did I... I couldn’t even think straight. My mind was stuttering in circles, rage drowning out logic. Da.mn it! I’ll show them! I threw the front door open and slammed it shut behind me with all the strength I had, letting them know I had arrived. My heels clicked furiously against the marble as I stormed down the hall toward my father's office -his so-called "war room," where only the most important, top-secret meetings took place. Except today, around the large dark mahogany table, there were no business partners or employees. Instead, I found my mother, father, and a few of our long-time family friends, all of whom I’d known since childhood. “What is the meaning of this?” I spat the words out, glaring directly at my father, trying to summon all the authority I could muster. but for a brief second, I cringed. What is the meaning of this? Seriously, who even says that? What am I, some melodramatic noble woman from the 18th century? Jeez. Get it together, Evie. So I stood tall, radiating defiance, my glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Well, I’m delighted you’ve finally graced us with your presence," my father said coolly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Although I asked you to join us fifteen minutes before the meeting started, not fifty minutes after.” “I thought your request was an April Fool’s joke,” I shot back with equal mockery. “Because something as absurdly outdated as an arranged marriage couldn’t possibly be serious. Not in 2026!” I wanted to be crystal clear about how I felt about this 'brilliant idea of my dear daddy'—and yes, that’s me dripping with sarcasm. My mother tried to intervene, her voice gentle, pleading. “Honey, come, please sit down.” I stomped toward her, plopping heavily into the chair beside her, directly across from him—Sebastian. The supposed "perfect match" for me. I narrowed my eyes at him. This was utter bullsh.it. He simply stared back with a calm, unreadable face, studying me like some kind of project. What a pompous a**hole. "As we’ve discussed several times already, the economic situation is becoming more challenging, and our competitors are growing stronger. That’s why it would be wise for us to join forces — not just on paper, but through marriage as well. This way, both sides — our children and grandchildren — will share leadership of the company, and we can avoid any unnecessary drama over who should take charge in the future. Evie, this isn’t just for your future, but for all of ours." My dad tried to persuade me with rationality. Silly him. When have I made any rational decisions? I always went with my feelings! I kept on glaring at Sebastian, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he simply folded his hands neatly on the table, tilting his head slightly as if analyzing me like some interesting specimen under a microscope. The audacity. His calm, calculated expression only fueled my fury. Was he enjoying this? Did he think he could sit there like some smug prince waiting for his prize to fall into line? I clenched my jaw. My pulse was hammering in my ears. I broke the silence. “But look at him! He’s ugly!” I blurted. “Excuse me?” Sebastian’s eyes widened, clearly not used to hearing anything but praise. “You’re exaggerating, honey,” my mother sighed, trying to smooth things over. “Everyone knows Sebastian is a handsome young man. He’s been named one of the se.xiest men alive, remember? Magazine covers, darling.” “Urgh, there’s nothing se.xy about this dou.che.” I rolled my eyes. I jabbed a finger toward Sebastian. “Look at his hands – girl hands. Not the hands of a real man.” I complained, pointing out the obvious – though apparently, no one else seems to notice. Sebastian glanced down at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. What a d.umb prick! “Perfectly manicured with those long, gross, bony fingers. Fingers like pale little sausages. They’ve never done a day's work – just shuffled papers and tapped on laptops. Urgh!” I stated, earning a shocked gasp from his mother. Yes, I’m fully aware how outrageously rude I’m being – but desperate times, right? Sausage Fingers stares at me with a what-the-hell look, and I can’t help but feel a little smug inside. Good. I’m getting under his skin. “Have you ever done labor work yourself?” Sebastian finally spoke, brows furrowed. “Mom, he’s so du.mb,” I whined dramatically. “He doesn’t understand how to read in between lines.” I complain to mom, then turn back to him. Oh, he’s in for such a rude awakening today. Ha! “It’s not about what I’ve done – it’s about what I like in men, what I want in a husband,” I snapped. “I like big, rough hands: calloused and bruised. Maybe a little dirt under the nails. Hands that show a man’s strength – not your bony ballerina fingers.” Sebastian’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “And your body—so thin!” I continued mercilessly. “No muscles, no meat. You probably couldn’t even lift me. I bet you smell awful under that designer cologne. Yuk.” He opened his mouth but said nothing. The stunned expression on his face filled me with a smug satisfaction. “And I bet you have no idea how to please a woman.” Gasps echoed around the room. “You probably have se.x like a total amateur. Just a few pathetic thrusts—ah, ah, ah—and you’re done. No stamina, no skill, no wild emotions. Probably a tiny d***k too!” “Enough!” My father’s voice exploded like a gunshot, making me jump slightly. His fist slammed onto the table, rattling the glasses. Sebastian’s face had turned a deep crimson, his ego bruised in every possible way. Good. That was the plan. Maybe if I humiliated him enough, he’d back out of this insane marriage. I’m too much of a wild cat to be a wife material. I stay silent, turning my head away from all of them, staring off to the side. I hate this. I hate every single one of them for forcing me into this mess. “You will marry Sebastian,” my father barked. “Our families have always been close. In times like these, with enemies and gold-diggers everywhere, it’s smarter to unite with trusted allies than rely on luck.” I turned toward him, fury crackling in my veins. His face was flushed with anger, but he still clung to his calm mask. “If we’re such a 'loving family,' how can you force your daughter into a loveless marriage? Into a lifetime of misery?” I hiss at my father, watching as anger boils just beneath the surface. He’s struggling to hold on to his calm, desperately clinging to that cool, collected facade. “People grow into love, Evie,” my father said, trying to sound wise. “That kind of love and relationships last far longer than the fleeting passion you young people chase.” “Oh please, spare me your lectures, papa!" I sneered. “I’ll never grow to love that prick.” I shoot back, jabbing my finger across the table as I lock eyes with my father. If he thinks I’m going to roll over, he’s delusional. “Then perhaps, in time, he’ll teach you something we’ve clearly failed to instill in you.” My father leaned forward, his voice cold. “And what’s that?” I ask with mockery. “Manners!” He boomed the word, nearly shaking the room again. For a moment, I thought he might actually storm out. Good. Let him. Well, dear daddy, you can think whatever you want about me. But if there’s even the slightest chance this might help me wriggle out of this stupid arrangement, I’m willing to give it a shot. I sat back, arms crossed, challenging him with my silence. “And what if I refuse?” I said finally, voice cold. “Then you may walk out of this house – and live as homeless as you wish.” I stared at him, stunned. The manipulation was pathetic. “That’s blackmail,” I said flatly, calculating how much money I had in my bank account, how much I could pawn off my jewelry for. “Do I get to keep my belongings?” I asked, weighing his so-called “offer.” “No," he spat. "Only what you’re wearing right now.” His face twisted with anger, spittle flying from his mouth. Charming, daddy. So loving. “What a lovely choice for your dearest daughter, don’t you think?” I mocked openly. If he thought I’d spare him from a piece of my mind, he was seriously deluded. Sebastian broke our stare down. “Maybe we should take a few days’ break to cool off, reflect and mull over this idea, and see if it’s truly the best fit for all of us.” Hope bloomed in my chest like spring flowers. Yes, come on, dou.chebag. Be reasonable. Walk away. After today, his ego had to be bruised – maybe he wouldn’t want me as his supposed “perfect” life partner. “Yes, I think that would be best,” his mother chimed in, eager to support her humiliated son.