"Our families have arranged for you to marry him. You have no choice."
Those words from my father's mouth were delivered like a sucker punch to my gut. I was taken aback, my eyes widening in shock.
"What?" I choked on a gasp, my eyes scanning the room to see if anyone else had heard, or if I was the only one who heard the absurd words that my own father just said to me.
My gaze moved from my older brother, Julian, who was leaning against the bookshelf in the drawing room, pretending to flip through a book, to his fiance, Evelyn, who was seated beside my younger sister, Wren, on one of the jet-black couches. They were all avoiding my gaze.
Cowards.
My father's expression was unreadable from where I was standing. I moved closer to the desk where he sat, looking at me with an expression I couldn't even fathom. He always had that expression when he was dead serious about something.
"Dad, what are you saying?"
My father, Cyril Vaughn, was one of the most powerful business moguls in the country. Growing up as his second child and first daughter, I realized very early that his name was synonymous with power and wealth. His influence stretched across the country like a web.
My father was known for his ruthless tactics and razor-sharp instincts and was quick to let go of anyone who seemed like a liability to him.
But beneath that tough exterior was a man who deeply cared about his children and their affairs, and always stressed how crucial love is.
This was completely out of character.
My father leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers. His chin-length salt and pepper hair had always been his most endearing feature, but right now, I just wanted to chop it all off.
"The company is on the brink of collapse, Remira," his voice was soft but still had a sharp edge to it. "We've done everything we could to try to keep it afloat, but it's not enough." He looked past me and I turned around to see that he was looking at my brother.
Julian cleared his throat. "The debts are mounting, and the investors are losing confidence. So I went to the Blackwoods for help. Darius Blackwood made us an offer, one I-we couldn't refuse."
My hands started to clench involuntarily as I glared daggers into my brother's head. Of course, it was him. He was the only one who would hate me enough to use me as a bargain for the company.
"Fucking bastard!"
I'd only started to charge toward him when my father's voice boomed from behind me. "Remira, that's enough!" he thundered.
I turned around to see my father's eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and warning. "You will not attack your brother, not now, not ever!"
I felt a hand on my shoulder, so I turned to look at my sister who was pleading with her eyes, shaking her head subtly.
"You don't understand the position we're in," he stood up from his chair and started to walk towards me. When he stopped right in front of me, he continued. "The company is drowning in debt. We need a lifeline, and this marriage can secure it."
A mirthless laugh escaped my mouth. "No, what we need is a strategy, not to sell me off like some business asset!" my body trembled. "And to a rival company?" The last thing I expected from my father was this. It was never even on the list.
Arranged marriage? He'd always told us to get married to someone who we loved and who we were sure loved us back. And now he was forcing me to marry the son of Darius Blackwood.
Axel Blackwood? Over my dead fucking body.
My father placed a hand on my shoulder, his brown eyes boring into mine as he flexed his jaw.
"It's not just about the money, Remi. This alliance could secure our future for decades. You know how much power the Blackwoods possess. This is the only option we have left. We need them."
I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, glaring at him as I stepped away from him.
"Yeah? But what about me? What happens after I marry him? You sit back and count their money and then what?" I scoffed, glancing at my brother. "Does my happiness not matter to you? Does the fact that I have a fiance not matter in this situation?"
It was as though they'd forgotten that I'd only recently gotten engaged to the man I'd been in a relationship with for two years. As though they'd forgotten that less than a month ago, we were all smiling and drinking and having dinner to celebrate our engagement.
"Sure," I continued, "let's marry Remira off so we can get the big bucks. But I'm already getting married. To Michael. What happens to him then?" I wiggled my fingers, making a show of examining the diamond ring on my finger. "And who says that bastard Axel wants to get married to me anyway?"
"Remi…" Wren started to say but I silenced her with a look.
"Axel's the one who asked for you," Julian provided. "Actually, he's the one who did all the talking, not Darius Blackwood," he smirked at me and I wanted to carve his lips out of his face with a pen knife.
I settled for a chuckle, mirroring my brother's smirk. People used to say we looked alike. I never saw the resemblance, but even if I did, I would rather pierce a needle through my eyeballs a million times than admit that we looked alike.
This was how I knew Julian was lying.
Axel Blackwood would never agree to an arranged marriage with me. Not in a million years. Not even if there was a gun to his fucking head.
Axel Blackwood hated me to death.
I should know. He made that fact known to me.
"Right. I'm sure he brought up the idea of marrying a Vaughn into his family." I made sure sarcasm dripped from my tone. The smirk on Julian's face disappeared.
"Enough!" My father yelled again. I turned to look at him and saw the sneer on his face. He was very angry.
Well, so was I.
"You will marry Axel Blackwood, no room for excuses. This alliance must happen."
"But, dad—"
"You have until tomorrow to break off your engagement," he said.
My mind reeled as I stared at my father. Who was this? My father would never sell me off to anyone. He loved me.
"We have only one chance to make this right, Remira. Don't ruin this."
I laughed mirthlessly as I took two steps toward my father. I used to have so much respect for this man, but now all I wanted to do was knock some sense into him. Literally.
"Ruin this? I already have."
With those lingering words, I turned on my heel, storming out of the drawing room and out of the house entirely.
"Remi!" I could hear my sister's hurried steps behind me but I didn't stop. I retrieved the keys to my Audi from my purse as I hurried into the garage.
"Remi, wait!"
"Stay away, Wren, I'm not exactly in a good mood right now," I called out without looking back.
I'd just opened the door when I felt her hand on mine. "I know that, just… here."
I felt something being handed to me and I turned around to see that it was a gift bag.
"What—"
"I know this is probably the wrong time to say it, and I know that this isn't how you wanted today to go, but happy birthday, Remi."
My eighteen-year-old sister pulled me into a hug as she sighed.
I felt my insides start to warm up as I returned the hug, fighting the tears that threatened to fall.
I'd planned to spend my birthday evening with my family and then go back to my apartment tomorrow, but that won't be happening anymore.
And no one remembered it was my birthday. Not even my father.
"Thanks," I said as we pulled apart. "You may be the only one in this family who actually cares about me."
We were silent for a moment as Wren smiled sheepishly, tucking her short hair behind her ears.
"Dad loves you, you know that, right?"
My lips pulled down in a frown. "No. No, he doesn't," I reply. "See you," I said, kissing her on the forehead. What Wren didn't know was that this would be the last time I would be seeing her.
I knew the kind of person my father was. The things he said to me were words of finality. He wasn't going to change his mind. I was about to be sold off to a fucking bastard.
And I wasn't going to let that happen.
On the way to my apartment, I dialed my fiance's number but my calls were not picked up. They kept going to voicemail. I tried calling my assistant so he would book an emergency flight to Spain for both me and Mike, but he didn't pick up either.
Yes. Spain. I had to leave tonight or else my father was going to force this marriage down my throat.
Mike was probably asleep. Before I left he'd looked so exhausted from work, and he'd been in the shower.
I took the private elevator to my apartment, tapping my feet impatiently as it went up. I tried calling my assistant again to no avail.
The sight I met as the elevator doors opened would torment me for the rest of my life.
Michael, my soon-to-be husband, was bent over the couch, and pounding furiously into him from behind, was Derek, my assistant.