1. The night

Dahlia Carrington

~•~

I wish I could say having a suitor visit my home like we were still in the eighties was something new, but it was not. I was the daughter of a multi-billionaire, who unfortunately for me, was patriarchal as hell. My mother was the regular housewife; a trophy wife who spent most of her time at home or shopping.

My father wished to marry me off like I was some object. According to him, I’d reached marriageable age and it would be better for me to get married quickly before I got old and wrinkly, and then, no one would marry me.

I was especially anxious today, and not just because I was meeting another suitor today. As though my thoughts could be heard, the chime of my phone successfully distracted me from them. I jumped, taken aback, and ruined the mascara I’d been applying.

Turning around, I looked at the digital clock by my nightstand. It was exactly ten o’clock. I held my breath in anticipation as I took hold of my phone, and truly, it was an email from New York University.

I bit my fingernails, anxious to open it. I’d been waiting for this moment for a long while and it was finally here. I was scared to check it and I didn’t have anyone to prompt me to do so. I didn’t even have anyone to check with me. Hell, no one knew that I’d applied to go to the university. My parents would cut my head off if they did, but I was good at studying and I didn’t want that to waste.

“Dahlia!!!” I heard my mom scream, even if she always scolded me whenever I did. She said it wasn’t ladylike. She believed there were certain ways a lady should act to look appealing to a man; to be picked. “He’ll be here in thirty minutes!”

“I know, mom! I’m almost done!”

When she didn’t say anything else, I went back to finishing up my makeup which I wrapped up in ten minutes. Then, it was just me staring at my phone.

I was scared that I wouldn’t get in. Even if I did, my parents would never let me go, so what was the use? But then again, it wouldn’t hurt to know. If I didn’t get in, at least I knew I tried.

With that thought, I pressed on the mail. My phone unlocked, leading me straight to it. I bit down on my lip as my eyes skimmed over the message.

“We wish to inform you that,” I mumbled as I read it, “you have been accepted into our–“ I paused and went back to it, thinking I didn’t see well, but the message didn’t change. A wide smile spread across my face as I realized that I had gotten in.

Sure, it wasn’t the university of my dreams, but it was a start. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to afford Yale or Harvard. It wasn’t like I could afford NYC but at least, I could take out student loans.

I had been accepted into a university. I would finally go to school. It didn’t matter that my parents didn’t approve. I still had three months to convince them anyway.

“Dahlia!” My mom’s shrill voice interrupted my excitement, making my mood sour once again.

I sighed heavily as I stood up. “I’m done, ma!”

I heard the click of heels coming up the stairs and I knew she was heading to my room. I dashed into the closet and picked up the white dress my mother had selected for me. Thankfully, it was simple and I stepped into it quickly, zipping it up just as she opened the door to my closet.

I put on a pleasant smile as I turned around to face her. “See? Ready.”

She rolled her eyes, something she didn’t dare do in front of my father because he saw it as disrespectful. My mother was the epitome of beauty. She had stunning blonde hair and sharp green eyes that could bring any man to their knees. I didn’t know why she settled for my father. It was probably the money.

“Shoulders up.” She instructed. “Chin high.” I did as she said and she walked toward me. “If you know how beautiful you are, you wouldn’t act so timid.”

Luckily for me, I inherited my mother's features but I couldn’t test out her beautiful theory because I was never allowed out of the house to meet the kind of man I was attracted to. The only men I got to meet were the ones asking for my hand in marriage.

“Thanks, mom,” I said weakly. I knew she didn’t have any bad intentions. She believed she was doing the right thing by helping me find a man to get married to. She thought I was joking whenever I said I didn’t want to get married any time soon. I was merely twenty. I was too young to be someone’s wife.

I wouldn’t be recognized for my achievements. I would only be on the arm of some random millionaire.

I followed her downstairs and it was at that exact moment the doorbell rang. One of the maids opened it while I stood behind it with my mother and father.

“Mr. Miller.” My father exclaimed as though he wasn’t expecting him as he moved forward to shake his hand. “Welcome to my home.”

“You have a lovely home.” Mrs. Miller said as she hugged my mother. She hugged me next before I was left to face their son.

I stretched out my hand for a handshake, but he kissed the back of my palm instead. Instinctively, I retracted my hand, not missing the way he raised his eyebrows at my reaction. I gave him a pleasant smile and he flashed one right back at me.

Brunch with the Millers was quite interesting. All they did was talk about their son and me getting to know each other. The son, Christopher, wasn’t all that bad. He had a nice personality and he was also funny, but the fact that they didn’t care if or not I was interested in him rubbed me the wrong way.

My cheek hurt from smiling too much and at the end of the brunch, I was tired from all the fake smiles. I retreated to my room, hearing my father follow me up the stairs.

He closed the door behind us. “Nice work today. You didn’t act out.”

My tongue poked the inside of my cheek as I held back my words.

“If you play your cards right on our next dinner, he might agree to marry you.”

“And what about what I want?”

My father frowned as though the concept was foreign to him. “What do you want? They have the most successful company in California. What more could you want? Do you think it was easy to meet with them?”

“But–“

“No buts, Dahlia.” My father interrupted harshly. “He seems to like you and you are getting married to him whether you like it or not. Understood?”

I bit my bottom lip. “Understood.”

But as I nodded my head, pretending to agree with my father, I knew tonight was the night.