Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Lottie’s head drops to the side. “Nope.”
“And I take it you don’t intend to?”
“Nope.”
“Well, I didn’t want to do this,” I say while picking up the phone.
“Do what?” she asks as I call my driver.
“Yes. Please deliver the package to Mr. Snow. Be sure it’s addressed as urgent from his daughter. Then please take the other package to the local news station.”
Her face drops when I hang up the phone. “You’re bluffing.”
“Do you have your phone on you, Bunny?” She nods her head. “I would keep that on you. My guess is your father will be calling soon.”
“You wouldn’t.”
I lean forward. “Oh, but I did.”
“How could you?” Her mouth drops open, and I want to kiss it. I want to taste her again.
“You had a choice.”
“This isn’t a choice. This is blackmail.”
“If you want to call it that, but we could have had some fun along the way.”
She stands with her phone in hand, then she looks up at me. “Father will hate me. You can’t do this.”
“Sign the contract.” I push it toward her, and she looks at it with uncertainty. “It is only a year out of your life, Lottie. One year. Then I will destroy all evidence.”
She blinks a few times then looks up at me again. “You shouldn’t have the evidence anyway. How did you even plan this? You wouldn’t have even known I was there.”
“I’m a very resourceful man, Lottie.”
Something crosses over her face, and then it’s replaced with rage. Pure, unadulterated rage. She’s furious. “Cancel delivery. Now.” She looks at her phone, and I see her eyes glisten. “I never want to be a divorcee. All my life I have wanted to marry the one man who I knew I was going to spend my life with.” A single tear falls down her cheek. “I wasn’t even going to let my father choose that for me. I guess now, he wins, as do you.” She leans down, signs on the dotted line, and then she stands, wiping her hands over her skirt before she turns to walk to the door. “You’ll stop them before they reach him?”
“Yes.”
She doesn’t look back as she walks out.
And I almost feel guilty for what I’m about to do to her.
Almost.
“Stop staring at my ass!” she screams. And I can’t help but smile.
Mine.
CHAPTER 7
LOTTIE
A glass sits in front of me, begging me to drink the contents. But I can’t. Alcohol managed to get me into the dilemma I’m in right now. I can’t stomach it getting me into anything else.
“Just tell me what’s wrong with you. All you’ve done is mope and not touch your drink since you arrived.”
“Father hasn’t gotten any deliveries today?” I ask, looking toward his office.
“No, why would he? What’s wrong?” My mother lifts a glass of champagne to her lips and takes a sip. Maybe I get my drinking from her.
I push the glass farther away. That needs to change right this minute.
I would like to say my mother was a nurturing woman when I was growing up, but she was far from that. To her, I was a way to keep my father happy. He wanted kids, and she wanted him. And while she has tried, you can always tell its forced.
“I heard a story the other day…” I look up to see my mother already pouring herself a second glass. So, I continue, “One of the Governor’s daughters made a sex tape, and her family disowned her…” I pause, giving her room to speak.
“Lucky for us, you aren’t that stupid. Imagine what your father would do.” She cackles.
I laugh. It is dry and false. All my life my father has had unrealistic expectations of me; it’s something I have always known. He will gladly tell me when he is disappointed in me. It hurts to hear that often, so you do whatever you can to make them happy, while still rebelling.
“What do you think he would do?”
“Probably the same as the governor. Scandals shouldn’t be present around us.” She rolls her eyes and walks out, then straight back in with another bottle of champagne. “Why are you asking?” She pauses to think about my question, and then I swear I almost see a light bulb go off in her mind. “Don’t tell me you did something stupid like this?” I watch as her hand starts to go white as she squeezes the bottle’s neck, hard.
“No,” I breathe through the lie.
Mom lets out a hard breath and goes back to pouring herself another glass of champagne. My father calls her name, and she walks off. When I check my phone, I see I have two messages. There’s one from Emma, and I open it first.
Emma: You signed, didn’t you?
She knows me well. I was hoping to prove her wrong. But as always, I do what’s best for my family. Public image is everything to them.