The Groom She Never Wanted

"Yeah." I stayed indifferent, glancing at the departure board. "Go. Keep stalling and Bryan's flight takes off."

I waved a hand before turning away. "Hope you two are happy."

***

When I got home, my dad was pacing the living room.

He saw me come in alone and his face changed. "Where's Amy? Why didn't she come back with you?"

"We're done." I tossed it out and headed upstairs.

He froze for a few seconds, then his face turned red. "Done? What nonsense is that? How is it just over?"

I stopped and looked at him, cold. "She doesn't like me. I'm not wasting my time. That's it."

The second I finished, he grabbed the ashtray off the coffee table and hurled it at me.

I stepped aside and dodged it.

He rushed over and grabbed my collar. "Our families set this engagement twenty years ago. You think a business marriage is a joke? You don't get to call it off whenever you want! Trying to make this family the laughingstock of the city?"

I shoved his hand away and said coldly. "You're so desperate because the company's thirty million in the red. You're counting on Amy's dad to bail you out. I'm not your bargaining chip. Let it go."

First time in years I'd ever talked back.

He snapped and kicked me hard in the chest. "How did I end up with a useless son like you? Can't even keep a woman. And you still dare show your face here?"

I staggered back into the cabinet.

Glass shattered.

Sharp shards dug into my back.

Before I could even catch my breath, he grabbed a chair and slammed it down on me.

The crash echoed as the chair splintered apart.

My arm shook violently.

If I hadn't blocked it with my arm, my head would've split open.

Instead, my arm went numb. Probably broken.

By then, he'd already grabbed a golf club and was marching toward me, panting.

"I don't care what you do. Bring Amy back. Or I'll beat you to death right now!"

I clutched my chest. Every breath felt like a knife twisting inside.

I spat out a mouthful of blood and glared at him. "Lawrence Irving, go ahead. Kill me. If I'm dead, you won't get a single dime from the Lacey family."

The golf club froze in midair.

He stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

All my life, I'd been the obedient son who never made a sound, even when the belt came down.

The coward forced to kneel all night without moving.

"You've got some damn nerve."

I forced myself to stand. Every word tasted like blood. "How did Mom die? Who gambled away that thirty million? Now you want to sell your own son for cash. So tell me—who's the one with the nerve?"

The words hit him like knives.

The club clanged to the floor.

His face went pale, lips trembling, no words coming out.