Chapter 5 - Tethered

Damon

“There’s my baby!” I hear my Mother's voice the moment I enter the mansion. She rushes towards me and wraps me in a tight hug.

“Hey, mum,” I return her hug, planting a peck on her cheek.

“As fine as a mum can be when her son doesn’t check up on her,” she gives me a disapproving look.

“If someone hears you, they would never believe we spoke on the phone yesterday, Mum,” I utter dryly. She’s so dramatic.

“I was the one who called you, remember? And that’s even because of the dinner,” she sighs dramatically, “I just wish I could see my son more.”

I stifle a groan. There she goes again with the emotional blackmail. I know the next thing that'll come out of her mouth.

As if on cue, she says, "Why don’t you move back in? It’s just me in this big mansion! I’m surrounded by vultures. Do you want me to die alone with nobody who loves me by my side?”

“Mum, I told you that’s not possible. I can’t move back here,” I roll my eyes at her dramatic words, “and you are just 50, you are not dying anytime soon.”

“That’s not the point here!” She glares at me half-heartedly.

I pull her close to me, “I’ll come to see you more often, I promise,” I say while rubbing her back, “we can go shopping this weekend if you want to.”

“Really?? Her eyes look hopeful and happy.

“Really. Now let’s go and get this shit over with.” I grab her hand, leading us to the dining table.

Everyone is seated when I get there. I ignore everybody and take my seat beside Mum at the farthest place away from the head of the table. Father isn't here yet. Of course, he’s not. Everyone has to wait for the king. I roll my eyes.

“Don’t you know it’s common courtesy to greet your elders when you come to a gathering?” James – the most stupid one of my brothers— says, looking at me with a stupid smirk that I want to wipe off his face.

I ignore him. I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of exchanging words with him.

I can feel his anger from where I’m sitting. If there’s one thing James hates, it’s being ignored. And that’s what I just did, so I’m expecting him to bark any minute from now. I brace myself for the noise. The bastard is loud.

“Are you not—” he’s interrupted by the entrance of my father, Michael Stone.

James jumps up like the lap dog he is, falling over himself to pull out Father’s chair. Pathetic.

“Welcome, Father!” he beams.

I almost chuckle at how pathetic the sight is. I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds it funny because I catch Joshua, my second brother, snickering quietly.

Father pays him no mind and takes his seat. The asslicker doesn’t mind; he just goes back to his seat, smiling like a fool. He really is a lap dog.

“Let’s eat,” my father’s deep voice booms through the dining room. I think I got my voice from him. As much as I hate to admit it, I look like him the most. The height, the hair, the eye colour, the voice, and even the personality. That’s probably why we never get along.

“Damon,” I’m snapped out of my thoughts with my mother touching my hands, “Your father is speaking to you!” she whispers, her eyes looking towards my father and me with wariness.

“Yes, Father,” I reply coldly while meeting his eyes. They're very cold and fixated on me.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Father,” I say while cutting a piece of steak.

“Well, I hope so. I do worry about one thing, though,” he pauses and eats his food. It’s a habit of his to keep his listeners hooked on whatever he wants to say. “When are you getting married?”

I stop my fork in mid-air on the way to my mouth. “I’m sorry, what?” I ask, dropping my fork into my plate.

“I assumed that you'd have the good sense to find a wife after the ridiculous news that the CEO of Stone Group isn’t a family man,” He continues in a low tone while pinning me with a cold stare.

I scoff, “Father, you want me to get married because of the news? How does that make any sense?” I can feel a vein throbbing in my head out of anger.

“Damon! Don’t talk to your father like that!” Mother scolds me, her voice laced with fear.

I shake my head at her. Of course, she doesn’t see how ridiculous this whole thing is. She just wants to protect her position in the Stone family. It's always been about her.

Father’s face remains expressionless. “You have three weeks to find a wife or you step down from that position,” he says without looking up from his food.

“I’m always here to step up to your expectations, Father,” James spits.

I drop my napkin and stand up. I’m done with this shit.

“Sit. Down. Now,” Father commands.

“I’m done. Thank you for dinner, Father,” I begin walking away when his voice stops me.

“Find a wife in three weeks, Damon, or you step down.”

I turn and storm off, my footsteps heavy with anger and frustration.

“Damon!” I hear Mom’s voice behind me. I don’t slow down until I get to the driveway outside.

“I didn’t forget shopping by the weekend, Mother,” I utter dryly while still walking. She catches up with me and draws me back; Her face contorted with anger.

“You think that’s why I stopped you?” she seethes, “What was that nonsense stunt you just pulled? Do you want to get us kicked out of the Stone family? Look, I’ve worked so hard to earn my keep in this family and you are not about to ruin this for me,” she finishes with her chest rising up and down out of anger.

I scoff, “This has always been about you, hasn't it?” I watch her anger give way to guilt. She can’t meet my eyes anymore, so she decides to change the subject.

“Hey, I’ll look for eligible women from rich families that you can marry. I’ll make sure you find a wife within three weeks, and we’ll be fine.” She looks at me hopefully, willing me to respond.

I just chuckle coldly, “Don’t worry, mother. You won’t be kicked out of the Stone family,” I sneer and walk away towards my car, get in the driver’s seat, and drive off, leaving my mother by the driveway.

Get married in three weeks? Yeah, right. I don’t plan on getting married to anyone, and I don’t plan on changing that rule anytime soon. After what Ava did to me, my happily ever after illusion— a light bulb goes off in my head.

Ava! I think aloud, Perfect timing! She definitely can’t turn down an offer that will keep her out of jail.

I hold that thought till I get home.

As soon as I wheel into the driveway, I sprint upstairs to Ava’s room. I find her standing by the window when I enter. I shut the door and step towards her, standing just a few feet behind her. She doesn’t acknowledge my presence. I don’t expect one anyway.

“You won’t go to jail,” I begin without pleasantries, “But on one condition.”

She turns, raising an eyebrow. At least I’ve got her attention now. For a second, I question myself—this is insane.

But then I remember Father's ultimatum and the look on my mother’s face.

Screw it.

“Marry me.”