Falling For The Wrong CEO

Renee's POV “You will marry Mr. Da Silva, Renee,” he repeated, and it felt like another stab in the back. Why did he keep saying that? I wondered painfully. “Over my dead body!” I yelled, trying to take a stand. But the tears stinging the corners of my eyes told a different story. “How can you ask that of me, father?” My voice broke as I asked him this, carrying undercurrents of what I was feeling inside. My wide eyes, flared nostrils, and clenched fists were fooling no one. “That’s the only way we can get close enough to avenge what he did to our family,” my father explained. What? I blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears in. Even though I hadn't been here for a while, wasn't I part of the family? Wasn't this my loss as well? “So that's all I am to you? An expendable tool for revenge?” I bit back, in barely controlled anger. How could he ask me to marry the bastard that destroyed our family's legacy? And just to get revenge! “Do you think I would go to bed peacefully every night knowing that you are in the arms of the man who took everything from me?!” My father declared. I paused, shocked, my lips parting slightly while I searched for a response. My father rarely ever raised his voice. Was he feeling the same as I was? I walked to him, taking in his appearance. His graying hair looked more disarranged than usual, and his suit seemed to hang on his frame. There was definitely something wrong with him, and in spite of everything, it worried me. “Is something wrong with you, Dad?” I asked, reaching out to him. “Have you been taking your meds?” I pressed further, feeling his face with her right hand. I knew he'd been facing issues with his blood pressure, and with all that had happened recently, I knew it had to be at an abnormal level. “I’m fine, Renee,” he replied, taking my hands off his face. “Look, when you said you were coming home to help, I thought you meant it,” he said scornfully, shaking his head. Hearing those words alone from my own father drove a stake through my heart, and I struggled to form the words to reply. “I… meant it, Father,” I replied slowly, stressing the “Father.” I had suddenly felt the need to remind him of who I was to him. I freed myself of his hold, and stepped back, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. “But no one had told me that it meant having to get married to the same man that destroyed our family and took everything from us. “There has to be another way,” I pleaded, and not just with my words. “Don’t you get it?” He groaned, rubbing his forehead with one hand. “You said it yourself,” he said, approaching me. But the maniacal look in his eyes made me back away from him. “He took everything. I’ve got no money, no companies, no resources, no contacts to give you. Zip. Nada. Nothing!” He yelled again, startling me. At the same time, my shins struck the side of a sofa behind me and I fell onto it. My father leaned over me, gripping the sofa for support. “I had to mortgage this house, and you know what, Mr. Da Silva did? He bought up all of our debt. We miss one payment; a quarter; a single penny? “We’ll be out in the streets with nothing. “This… Renee Del Monte, is the only way.” His eyes were wide, veins strained against his forehead and neck, and his face was flushed red. I lay there, supporting myself with my elbows, while looking up at him. My eyes were wide in fright. I had never seen him get like this before. But at least now I was convinced that he felt similar to the way I did about this sham of a marriage, and it made me feel a bit better. Suddenly he faltered. I gasped slightly. “Are you okay, dad?” I asked, sitting up to support him. “I’m fine,” he wheezed. He leaned off the chair, moving away from me. But as he took another step, he crumbled, and dropped like an old sack. It happened like a horror movie in my eyes. “Dad!” I cried out, rushing to where he lay, unmoving. “God, no,” I whispered, running my hands over him, unsure where to start. “Maria-Lucia!” I yelled, checking his pulse. “Ma’am?” The maid answered quickly, stepping into the study. “Oh my God, Mr. Ariel!” “Hurry!” I yelled impatiently. “Get his blood pressure kit. His meds are in there.” “Okay, ma’am,” she nodded, and rushed out of the room while I hustled to turn him over, and sit him up at least. Maria-Lucia soon returned with the kit, then we propped him in a sitting position, and gave him some infused water. “I called Dr. Edwards, he is on his way, sir,” Maria-Lucia announced. “Thank you,” I smiled at her slightly, and returned my attention to my father. “Not you too, please,” I whispered; worriedly searching his face for any signs. *** A few minutes later, Dr. Edwards and I were standing over my father in the study. He now lay on the same sofa I had fallen on while we were arguing. “Will my father be okay?” I asked the doctor, watching him. He seemed so peaceful with his eyes closed. Dr. Edwards sighed. “You know how these things are at our age,” he said. “As long as he sticks to his meds, and avoids strong emotions, he should be fine,” he added, packing his things. “Thanks, doc,” I smiled slightly. “I’ll walk you out,” I offered, noting he was ready to leave. We had gotten to the top of the stairs when he paused and turned to me. “I didn’t know you were back. I heard what happened. Sorry for your loss,” Dr. Edwards said, placing an arm on my shoulder. That hand immediately sent a shuddering chill through me, and it took everything in me to not shrug that arm off. He was suddenly giving off a vibe that was totally non-medical. “You know you can count on me for anything you need,” he smiled. I nodded warily, taking his hand off me. “Thank you,” I replied, and cleared my throat. “Maria-Lucia,” I called. “Yes, ma’am?” The faithful maid reappeared. “Please do me a favor, and walk the doctor out. I’ll be in the study with my father.” “Of course, ma’am,” the maid replied, approaching us. Then I returned to the study while the maid left with the doctor. *** “You’re awake,” I noted, smiling as his face came into view. “You asked the doctor if I’d be alright,” he replied. “You know that that depends on you.” A deep breath replaced my initial choice of words, and I simply turned to look out the French windows, watching the sun set behind a tree I'd scraped my knees, severally, climbing as a child. I felt this feeling of powerlessness slowly overcoming me, and I detested it with every fiber of my being. It felt like being beaten into submission, and it was by someone I'd never even met. Hate flooded my entire frame at the mere thought of him. He was definitely the worst human being to ever exist. *** Writer's POV “It is my honor to present this lifetime achievement award to the smartest, most talented man I know,” a young tanned man said into the microphone on a stage. He wore an expensive three-piece suit. “An astute business executive to most of us, and a great friend to myself. Ladies and gentlemen, the one and only, my best friend, Antonio Da Silva!” The audience erupted in a loud cheer, and music played in his arrival. *** Meanwhile, at a nearby 5-star hotel. Antonio's POV “Oh Tony, you know how to treat a woman,” she purred, lying on me, while trailing one long finger along his chest. Just then, someone banged on the door. “Veronica! I know you’re in there with your lover!” She gasped, springing off me. “That's my husband,” she whispered fearfully, her eyes wider than golf balls. “Oh f*ck,” I muttered, sitting up immediately after her. We were both dead.