Chapter 4

I ambled out of my room and went past my stepsister's room. My mood was still sour and Erica wasn't at fault for all that was happening. 

When I reached the front porch, I met my father, as expected.

He had a worried expression on his face and didn't notice when I came in. 

I felt a wave of compassion come over me as I looked at his weary form. 

What if this whole arrangement was because my dad was blackmailed by his supposed friend?

I knew my Dad had been defeated since the accident that took my mom's life and his legs. If that billionaire family was doing this to place more misery on my father, maybe I could convince him to find another way.

"Dad," I called gently. 

He jolted and turned his wheelchair to face me. There were visible eye bags under his eyes. I could see his facial expression morph into relief. 

"Where on earth did you spend the night? I was worried."

Oh, so he knew I left?

"I went to my friend's place. I had to think."

He gave a single nod and continued to look at me as if expecting me to continue my speech. 

"Dad, if you're being forced into this arrangement for whatever reason, we can always go to the police," I pleaded. 

He let out a brief chuckle at my statement. What was funny about what I had said?

"Calliope, no one forced me. I willingly agreed to this contract. Marrying into the Vanderbilt family will be the best decision I ever made on your behalf."

"But why?" I asked, now on the verge of tears. "Why do you always want to control my life? What would Mom say to what you're doing to me if she were to be alive? You're making me miserable."

"I love you, dear. I care about your future. Trust me, daughter. I know what's best for you," he said.  

I stared at the horizon for a moment. My mind was brewing. Okay, so he wanted to sell me off. Fine. But I wouldn't make it easy for him either. 

"Okay, Dad. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'll go along with this jamboree engagement plan, but on one condition."

Dad's tense face visibly relaxed. I could almost see a smile forming on his lips. 

"That's progress. What's your condition?"

"I must let my in-laws know about my unquenchable obsession with art."

My father's face darkened. I feared I might have pulled a fuse. 

"You cannot do that. I thought I made it clear that you have to bury that part of your life forever. It's forbidden." His voice was threateningly dark. 

I never understood my Dad's irrational hatred for what was my passion. What was his deal? 

I wanted to open my mouth and announce to him that I had still been painting and drawing secretly and would have made a big break if things hadn't gone haywire, but I stopped myself. All good things to those who wait. 

"Go, make yourself useful. Your fiance will come later this evening. You're going on your first date tonight."

I froze on hearing this. 

"What—?" I spluttered. "And you're just telling me this now?"

"You should be happy. At least you have a chance to get to know him better before you marry."

I narrowed my eyes at my dad and stormed out. It was useless trying to reason with this man. Sometimes I didn't know how to feel about my father. His grief was weakening him and sometimes I pitied him. Other times, he frustrated me. 

As I went back into the house, I noticed that Erica was up. Today was Saturday so she was at home. 

She came to me, looking at me through her spectacled eyes and said, "I eavesdropped on everything last night. You're getting married?" 

I just nodded. 

She looked sad as she said, "You must be excited." Then she leaned in and whispered to me conspiratorily, "I wish I was in your shoes."

"Maybe we should switch places then. I'm sure your mother will be so pleased that her daughter is getting married to a billionaire."

"It can't be all bad, sis. There's a 70% possibility that you'll end up madly in love with your arranged fiance."

"Not happening. You really should stop reading those W*****d fantasies."

She grinned and patted my arm. 

"Try to cheer up. If you need my help in any way, just let me know."

I smiled warmly at her. This girl was an angel—a book nerd angel. Yes, I was going to miss her big time. She was nothing like her mother. 

Just as I was about to reply, we heard Georgia hollering our names. Right. Breakfast must be prepared. 

"Talk of the devil," Erica muttered as she rolled her eyes and made towards the kitchen. 

I chuckled and followed her. 

Piles of plates filled the sink and something was brewing in the cooker. 

Georgia didn't respond to my greeting but I didn't mind. Her sporadic silent treatments came whenever she was extremely angry and I felt it was better than her screaming at me. 

I wondered how long she had fought my dad's decision to marry me off. I knew she was dead jealous that I would leave her grip and get to live the luxury life she so craved. 

I took my breakfast upstairs to eat in my room. I didn't even flinch when my dad tried to force me to stay at the table. 

I was putting up my last rebellion act. 

Once I got to the privacy of my small room, I placed my food tray on the table and brought out my journal.

I flipped through the pages of the journal which was filled with sketches on every page and a tiny bit of annotations till I got to a blank page. 

"I'm getting married," I wrote in bold cursive on the top of the page.

Then I began to draw.