"I'M NOT MARRYING ANYONE!" I shouted as I finally lost my temper.

Everyone at the dinner table stared at me. My mom had a disappointed look on her face while the rest looked at me with a bored expression and one that looked at me with pity.

From the moment they had suddenly called me for dinner, I have been having a bad gut feeling. Apart from Thanksgiving and Christmas and their birthdays I wasn't invited much. Well, why would they invite their arrogant and insolent child. Every time I am here, they never fail to remind me how much of a disappointment I am.

"Honey, you have to understand this is very important. You see your father's c-" My mother was speaking but I cut her off.

"He's not my father." My voice was firm and hard as I stared at my mother. I had told her time and time again. She may have married Samuel Santoro after my dad died but he never became my father. In fact he never tried to become my father.

My father was Adrian Rasmussen, a US army Sergeant who died overseas when I was twelve, while serving his country.

My mother breathed and sat up straight. Although she was past fifty, she was still as beautiful as ever. Her silky blonde hair was cut just below her jaw and framed her heart shaped face. Those piercing grey eyes I inherited from her bore straight through my identical ones. The laugh lines around her eyes disappeared.

"Samuel's business..." She started again and this time using his name. We have had this conversation about him not being my father before and this time I was grateful she didn't start the argument we always had afterwards. Besides I had no relation to that man other than that he was my mom's husband and my half-sister's father. "...is in a tight spot right now due to the increasing competition. The Smith's are our greatest rivals but the increasing competition is affecting them as much as it is affecting us. Your fa-Samuel and Mr. Smith have decided on a merger. It will benefit both groups. This marriage is to ensure that partnership."

"I. Don't. Care." A scowl was still present on my face. "I have no part in his business." I pointed towards Samuel. "It's a matter of business, so have Nathan marry. After all, he's the heir." As soon as the words left my mouth my stepbrother, Nathan Santoro, sat up in his chair and glared at me which I returned with one of my own. He was a carbon copy of his father. Brunette hair, brown eyes and the same face structure with the square jaw. They even stood at the same height of 6'1". He was a few years older than me. His mom, Samuel's first wife, passed away because of cancer when Nathan was just seven.

Samuel never married after his wife's death. That was until he and mom met. I was a freshman in High school then, and before my sophomore year started they were married. We moved from Maine to New York where Samuel lived in his mansion. I was enrolled into a private High school in my sophomore year and Nathan had just graduated from the same school at the top of his class and was the valedictorian on their graduation. I'd remember, we were there at his graduation. But none of them were at mine.

"Nathan's married." My mother supplied.

No shit. I was there at the wedding.

"He can divorce her." What I said I was gonna regret it later, I knew it because Alison, Nathan's wife, has been nothing but sweet to me. I looked at her as she sat across from me. Grey eyes connected with amber ones. Her dirty blonde hair was in a bun with no loose strand to be in sight. Her oval face and red painted lips gave me a sweet smile which I returned with an apologetic one. She understood that I didn't mean it. It was just said in the heat of the moment. Her posture was perfect as she sat at her seat. Well that was expected from a professional concert pianist.

A gasp came from beside her. My attention switched to her husband who had a horrific look on his face.

"I'm not GAY!" He exclaimed. As soon as he had said that, his eyes grew wide and he slapped his right hand on his mouth. With my own wide eyes I looked at the other occupants on the table. My mother and Samuel shared the same expression. They had been caught red handed but Alison mirrored my own shock.

They were trying to get me married; that was a different topic. It was a whole different one that they were trying to get me to marry a guy.

A GUY!!

"WHAT. THE. FUCK!" I bellowed while slamming my hands on the table harshly and stood up knocking down the chair I was occupying. The whole table and cutlery present on it rattled at the force. I was glad my half sister, Marianne, wasn't at dinner with us today. She stayed the night at a friend's house. Now I know why.

"How dare you!" I was speaking to my mother. My face showed anger yet I was able to keep my voice monotone.

"We were going to tell you, honey." My mother began trying to handle the situation.

"When?" I cut her off. She opened her mouth to speak again but I spoke up first, "When I would be standing at the altar waiting for a girl to show up? Or after I was married?" I couldn't maintain the monotony of my voice by the end.

"No. Just after yo-" She spoke up again only for me to cut her off, again.

"When you convinced me to marry her. Then make me sign a contract so I can't back out. Am I right, mother?" I spoke 'mother' in a sickly sweet manner.

"Stop overreacting. It isn't like you were gonna have a problem with it anyway." My head snapped towards Samuel. Since the whole marriage talk started he only now spoke up.

"Sam-" My mother began but I cut her off again.

"I'm not into BOYS. I'm neither bisexual. Nor. Gay." I said, trying to calm myself down. I turned to leave but stopped at his next words.

"High School would like to disagree." After those six words there was absolutely pin drop silence. I could hear my jaw tick with how hard I was clenching my teeth. My hands were formed into tight fists. So tight that my knuckles cracked.

I slowly turned back around. "High School also taught me you are nothing but an abusive asshole with no vigour, who beat up a helpless teenager because he was too much of a pussy to fight real men." The last part was just to rile him up but I still remember how he used to beat me or punish me whenever I got a detention or any other complaint from school. He wasn't always like this but when complaints became regular, he started changing. Hell, my family changed. They thought that I was acting out. They became distant and ignorant. I remember the bite of his belt on my body, the sting of his slaps and punches and kicks. But worst of all, that tiny dark empty closet where he'd drag me and leave me with no light whatsoever and only the noise of my sobs or hungry stomach growls kept me company.

But the truth was, the complaints; the detentions, they were not my fault. It Was never my fault. I was framed each and every time by my bullies. Why did they bully me? Because of some bullshit rumour they spread about me being Gay. FAG to be the exact word. If I fought back, things would have been worse. And no one believed me. Who would? It was one kid who kept getting into trouble against the whole school of rich bastards.

They had tormented me at school for two and half years until I graduated. But the damage was done. In the last semester of my Senior year I literally became the bad boy they pinned me to be. I got a tattoo on my right pectoral, started sleeping with every girl in my grade and even pierced my ears and wore black earrings.

Samuel abruptly stood up, snapping me back to reality. "What did you say, you piece of shit." He came marching my way and stood in front of me. Our bodies are only a few inches apart. He was slightly taller than my 5'11" frame but me being a gym trainer had bulk on my side. "Don't forget, you're in my house."

"Fine, I'll leave. I was just on my way out anyway." I turned and walked away.

"Just remember, if you walk away now, Marianne's the one who will end up getting married." I again stopped dead in my tracks for the second time tonight. "Yeah, that's right. Either you marry him or she ends up taking your place walking up the altar."

"She's just a child." My voice was low but due to the absolute silence in the room it was heard clearly. "For God's sake! Her tenth birthday is just next month!" What was this man? He was ready to marry his daughter for money. He disgusted me.

"This isn't right. I agree with Ethan. First you force him to marry someone and now you try to blackmail him? She's your daughter." Alison spoke up for the first time tonight.

"This merger is very important." My mother stood up. "Smith's and Santoro's have been business rivals for a long time. They don't trust us and frankly, we don't trust them either. This marriage is the only way to ensure trust between us. Even if you don't marry him, Marianne would have to when she comes of age."

I looked at my mother. "You can't be serious." I breathed. This was fucked-up. Assuming the guy is of my age, by the time my sister turns eighteen, the other guy would be at least double her age by then.

On one side it was my freedom and on the other, it was my sister's. If I didn't accept this marriage proposal then she would be raised to marry whoever this rich asshole is. I knew the choice I needed to make. It was simple yet difficult.

"Tell him to meet me at the Starbucks near my gym, 4 pm sharp." I stormed out as soon as my sentence ended, not waiting another moment to hear what more they had to say.

I revved up my bike standing in the driveway and put on a helmet. As I approached the gates of the fenced in property, the guard instantly opened the gate for me. My white button down shirt hugged my body and I could feel the warm September air rushing around me.

I made my way from the Bronx back to Brooklyn. I didn't bother to go back to my apartment and just parked straight in the parking lot of the gym where I worked. I walked past the front desk to the staff locker room without checking in.

I quickly undressed, and put on the spare black jockstraps and shorts along with my training shoes. Then I made my way to the punching bags and taped my hands.

***

I was sitting at Starbucks sipping on a smoothie. It was already five minutes past four. I was losing patience as my foot tapped against the floor.

I have been in a pissed mood since last night. And him not showing up was getting on my last nerves, though he was only a few minutes late.

I got up as soon as I finished my drink, ready to leave. But stopped when I saw a tall man in a suit just outside the glass doors. Though I had never seen the face of my soon to be husband, ever. A feeling in my gut told me this was the one I am supposed to be getting married to.

The automatic doors parted and everyone was looking at him as he stepped inside. There was something in his posture and the way he walked that demanded everyone's attention. He just oozes this..... charisma. And also he looked completely out of place in the expensive three piece blue suit standing among people in sweats and T-shirts. I was no better with just a black V-neck and some faded jeans and converse.

He was taller than most people here. His crisp black shirt that showed from underneath the suit had the top buttons undone. A few strands of his semi long russet brown hair with natural blonde balayage fell over his black sunglasses.

He stopped I'm front of me and gave me a once over. Even through his sunglasses I could feel his eyes judging me.

"Ethan, I presume?" Asked a heavy baritone that came out from those baby pink lips surrounded by a 5 o'clock shadow.

"Yes and you are -"

"Christian. Christian Smith." He supplies with a proud glint in his voice. "Your father told me you did not ask my name. Well you must be very eager." He was teasing me.

"Late. You are late. That is what I was gonna say." I deadpanned as I sat back down.

"It takes time to come to the East coast all the way over from the West coast. I cleared my afternoon and the remainder of the day especially for you" He leaned in closer and whispered in my ear, "my dear soon to be husband."

I pushed him away and gave him the meanest look I could muster and told him to sit down.

"Let's just get something straight." I looked at him when he laughed.

"Weird for you to say something like that when you are gonna be marrying a man." I flipped him off when I realized what meaning of straight he was using.

"I like girls. The only reason I agreed to this marriage is so that my sister doesn't have to marry some old pervert, -"

"Oof!"

"-so , try anything funny and I'll chop off your balls and then shove them up your ass." I glared at him.

He chuckled, "Well even I'm not interested in marrying a man either." I looked at him confused. "I'm doing this because my father froze all my assets. If I marry you, he will give them back and I will inherit the family business as well." He removed his glasses and bright blue eyes looked at me. "Trust me, we are on the same page here."

"Well then considering you are the heir and need the company, I suppose I don't have any chance of convincing you to back out of the mar-" I abruptly stopped when my eyes connected with his. A sudden feeling of deja vu fell over my body as his blue orbs bore into my grey ones. My stomach became queasy and my body shivered. Not in a pleasant way. These were the shivers that a prey felt when it knew it was surrounded by predators and had no way out other than death. My mind was trying to tell me something but before it could, he spoke up again.

"Hmm." He hummed and looked at me with a certain intensity in his eyes. I froze as every hair on my body stood erect. If I was Spider-man my so-called spider sense would be going haywire. My gut was telling me to be wary. My instincts screaming at me, warning me of the blued eyed man sitting in front of me.

I gulped audibly in relief when he averted his gaze and put his sunglasses back on but for some reason I still couldn't tear my eyes away from his face. I probably looked like a creep but I just couldn't stop. He was a puzzle and my mind was trying to put every piece in place.

"You should have put ice on that."

"Huh?" I was broken out of my trance.

His lips curved in a scowl and I could just imagine him rolling those blue eyes behind his Ray Bans.

"I said you should have put ice on that." He gestured to my hands and I finally understood he was referring to my bruised and swollen knuckles due to last night's two hour long punching tournament. They had to forcefully rip me away from the poor punching bag when the closing time rolled around. In my haste I didn't tape my hands properly and thus the results were black and blue knuckles.

"Why do you care so much?" Even though it was nice of him to notice, my anger was still in the forefront of my mind.

"I need the ring to fit your finger in two weeks when we get married. And considering the state of your poor hands, it is gonna be a tight fit." He replied nonchalantly as he dug out his mobile and started scrolling.

"What do you mean two weeks?" I asked in disbelief. "You can't mean we are- I mean that's impo- it's too soon!" I sputtered.

He just gave me a calm expression. "The preparations have been going on for almost a week now and our parents settled on a date almost a month ago." He informed me

"WELL THEY DID NOT ASK ME." I seethed quietly. "I need more time."

"Two weeks is all you get. Venue has been booked, caterers have been paid. All that is left is for us to buy our tuxedos and invite the guests." I was getting more and more riled up by the minute. I could not believe my own family had already planned my wedding without even telling me.

I groaned, clutching my head. My life was literally becoming a shit hole. "When were they gonna inform me that I had to be present at my own wedding? WHEN IT WAS TIME TO MAKE OUR VOWS?" I exclaimed.

Christian just looked at me. I couldn't see his eyes so I was not sure if it was a pitiful or boring expression. Just like before he said in a monotonous voice, "Would you like anything in particular for the wedding. After all it's your wedding not your family's."

"I don't care. I have a yeast allergy, so no yeast cake that's for sure. Also, don't make it strawberry flavored. I hate strawberries" I grumbled. I was so angry but more than that I was tired and didn't even have the energy to fight anymore. I was getting married even if I liked it or not one way or another. If it wasn't me, then it would be my sister which I would never let happen ever as long as I lived. She had the choice to marry anyone she wanted. My life was already shit, it couldn't get any worse than this.

"Noted." Was his one word answer as he went back to typing on his phone and I rested my forehead on the table pillowed by my arms.

"So, can I go now? I have a flight to catch to get back to California." He pocketed his phone and sat up straight. "Give me your phone."

"Why?" I didn't even look up.

"Give me and I'll tell ya." He countered and with a resigned sigh I took out my Samsung galaxy note 10+ and handed it to him. My head was throbbing so hard it was killing me now so I didn't even bother to look up and see what he would do. It's not like I had any secrets hidden away in my phone. "Unlocked." He deadpanned and I just made a thumbs up sign with my right hand and I felt him press the screen to my thumb and the mobile opened.

I heard the sound of keys tapping. "You are gonna be my husband and even though we both might be opposed to the thought, my mother is not. In fact she is over the moon. What would I tell her when she finds out we met and I didn't even ask for your number." He handed me back my mobile and I finally sat up to look at it. A new chat on my whatsapp was open and with the conversation being a Hello from me only. And the name of the contact with which the conversation was shared was 'MY HOT HUBBY❤️️'.

I gave him a stink eye. "Seriously."

"What? I'm hot. I know it. You also know it. Hell, everyone knows it." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't have the energy to deal with you, so I'm leaving." With that said I got up to leave.

"Aw no goodbye kiss for me?" His overly dramatic voice and the pout on his face was tempting me to punch him.

"Well I would love to give you a goodbye fist followed by broken RayBan and a black eye." I said in a sickly sweet voice with a smile.

"Touché." He chuckled.

"I have another wish." I suddenly said.

"Shoot."

"I don't want a big marriage ceremony. Just a small one with close relatives and family, only. No paparazzi before, during or after we are married. You might like to be the center of attention but I don't. If I see it has been released in the news about our marriage, everything will be off." I leaned in close. "And I mean it." I say slowly but with power in my voice.

He looked at me for a long time. I could feel his gaze on my face. I could even imagine the calculative glint in his eyes from behind the sunglasses. His lips were in a thin line and the defined cupid's bow from earlier now non existent.

"Fine. Deal." He declared suddenly. "But what will I get in return?"

"You are getting your inheritance whereas I get nothing out of this wedding. I think I'm owed this much." With that I turn and head towards the doors.

"What do you mean? You are getting my sexy self as a husband which is more precious than money." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Narcissist." I muttered and went to leave.

"Bye-bye, Ethan. See you at the wedding." He called out as I exited the establishment.