40. Briar
Briar
I ’m too lost in my own thoughts to register the bell tinkling over the door.
Thoughts of Kai. Of Jenson. River, driving me home last night with my hand wrapped in his, balanced on his thigh.
The argument I had with my father when I walked through the door, my dress wrinkled and dirty and my hair undone, my heels in my hand.
Things between us are more strained than they’ve ever been, and I’m… done.
Blinking, the page of calculations in front of me comes into focus. I should have enough for a small apartment, at least for the first few months.
My mind slips to Ravenhall, but I push it away.
We barely know each other. Even if my feelings are starting to become deeper. More . With every passing day, every time I speak to them, every time they do something to make me fall a little more in—
You don’t even know what love is, Briar.
But it’s starting to feel like maybe I do. And maybe it looks like three men, who walked into my life at a time when I didn’t even know how much I needed them.
It frightens me, how much I need them. They’ve made me no promises. Jenson said he wanted to try, but he hasn’t mentioned it since.
And our second night is tonight. My body tingles at the thought.
Heavy footsteps yank me out of my reverie, my body jolting as I almost launch myself off the table. “Hello—,”
My words cut off. Blinking, I stare at the blond visitor. “Philip?”
He looks out of place here, even as he glances around while straightening his camel-coloured coat. “Briar.”
“What are you… why are you here?” Flummoxed, I straighten as he takes in the mannequins, the dresses draped over them. The empty space. His lips twist in silent judgment.
“I wanted to speak with you after last night. And I realized I’d never seen where you… work.” The small pause, the slight tilt of his lips is all I need to know he’s assessing and finding my studio wanting.
My hackles rise as I glance to the closed door. “What did you want to speak about?”
At my sharp words, he turns to look at me. His pale brown eyes sweep my face, tightening at the corners. “You don’t seem like yourself at the moment. Not last night. Not at the dinner with my mother. I wanted to check on you. You left the gala very abruptly.”
I wait for him to mention the engagement, but he doesn’t. “You could have at least let me know you got home safely.”
I deflate just a little. “You’re right. I’m sorry for leaving like that. I felt a little sick, but I’m fine now.”
Philip examines me as if I’m lying. “My mother was not impressed with your behavior when you met, you know. You’ll need to work harder next time you see her. You don’t get a second chance at a first impression.”
His pointed, precise words tell me exactly why he’s here. “You weren’t concerned about me, were you? You’re here to lecture me. About leaving last night, about the dinner with your mother. About all of it.”
My words spill out in the space between us. “You don’t even know me, Philip. Not really. And what you do know, you don’t seem to like. Why do you even want to marry me?”
He tugs at the edge of his sleeve. “It’s a good match. I’ll be taking over as partner from your father when he retires, merging our firms together. It makes sense.”
My brows crease. “That’s it? You can have that without needing to marry me. It would be easier on everyone, including my father.”
He smiles at me, then. And I realize that I’ve never seen him look at me like he is now. Like he’s really looking, instead of scanning me for flaws. “You’re very beautiful.”
Something clenches in my stomach, and I take a step back. The edges of my desk press into the backs of my thighs. “And?”
He follows me, stepping closer. “I don’t need anything more than that. Your personality is irrelevant. Your behavior is… regretful. But we’ll train that out of you sooner or later.”
It’s not desire that heats my skin as he pushes into my space, my body leaning back over the desk. It’s something darker, as I look over his shoulder to the closed door, to the empty space around us. I’ve never been alone with Philip before, my father always acting as a buffer between us.
Fear.
It floods my body as I strain away from him. “You make me sound like a pet.”
Philip lifts some of my hair in his hand, running it through his fingers. The polite, bland mask slips from his expression. “You’ll be whatever I tell you to be. Come here, Briar.”
I shake my head. “Step back. I’m not comfortable – I want you to leave.”
After last night, this is too much. The fear, both new and remembered, threatens to smother me.
Is there nowhere safe?
Philip doesn’t move back. He pushes himself closer, into me until I can feel his breath on my cheek as I twist my head. His murmured words have my throat closing in panic as I try to shift from underneath him. “I think we’ve already established that what you want has no bearing on our arrangement at all.”
A noise pulls from my chest as his hand comes up to grip my chin, holding me in place. He doesn’t move as my hands lift, trying to push him away.
He’s strong. Stronger than I realized, with his bland, dismissive words, and his feigned bowing to my father.
And much more dangerous.
My breathing comes faster now, as we stare at each other. My hands are wrapped around his wrist as I try futilely to push him away, his lower body pinning mine in place.
“I’m going to enjoy breaking you.” His lips skate over my cheek. “Have your little tantrums if you like. It won’t make a difference. We will be married, and once you’re in my bed you’ll learn exactly what happens if you don’t do as you’re told.”
“Please,” I whisper. My voice shakes as I keep pushing, but he doesn’t move. “I want you to leave now.”
His grip on my hair is painful, my head yanked back as he slams his mouth down. My legs kick out as he bites down on my lip before pushing his tongue into my mouth, his fingers holding the edges of my mouth so I can’t bite down.
He pulls back, his breathing harsh. “I can do whatever I want, Briar. Pull your skirt up, turn you over and fuck you, right here, put you on your fucking knees if I want to. Your father isn’t here to stop me. Not that he would, with the amount I’m paying for you.”
“I’ll tell him.” Rage . It fills me, red-hot fury battling with the icy fear that still fills me as his head pulls back. My nails dig into Philip’s skin, drawing blood, but he doesn’t even flinch. “This wedding will not be going ahead.”
And he only laughs. “Your father knows exactly who he’s handing you over to, Briar Rose. He plays the doting father well, but in the end, the money is the only thing he cares about.”
The verbal jab lands directly between my ribs, stealing my breath. “You’re lying.”
Whatever my father is, he wouldn’t push me to marry Philip after this. My lip feels swollen, painful as I run my tongue over it.
He clicks his tongue. “I believe I’ll insist that the wedding moves up. One month from now. You’re entirely too irresistible.”
My head shakes. “You… you’re—,”
Philip pulls back suddenly, releasing me. My legs, pinned in midair, collapse to the floor, taking me with them as my spine rakes painfully against the edge of my desk. He ignores me as I crumple onto the floorboards, my breath rasping as I scramble to get to my feet.
Blindly, I reach behind me, yanking a pair of shears from the desk and aiming the blade at him. “Get the hell out. Now . There will be no wedding. I’m not marrying you.”
My breathing is unsteady. “I’d wish you the best, but I’d be lying. I think I’ve dodged a bullet.”
He hid it so well. A predator in plain sight.
It feels as if I’ve unveiled a stalker. This man has been in my life for two years. Dinners at my home, taking me out, always with a thin veil of bland politeness that was hiding… this.
His gaze flickers between my face and the blade. “I didn’t know you had so much fire in you. I’m suddenly finding myself much more invested in our relationship.”
“Get out!” I scream the words, hoping someone might hear.
But Philip only laughs, mocking and low as he turns to the door. “I’ll be in touch. And you’ll behave in the presence of my mother in future, or I will make you regret it. Understand?”
He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. My arm is shaking as I keep the shears up, my lip throbbing.
Get him out. Lock the door . “Yes.”
“Good,” he says smoothly, tugging his coat back into place. “I’m glad we understand each other. I’ll pick you up for dinner on Sunday. Be ready for one, and dress accordingly.”
“Oh.” He turns, tossing something at me. The small box hits my chest and slides down to the floor. “You’ll wear this, or I’ll break your finger to hold it in place. Put it on now.”
It doesn’t matter. Play along. Get him out.
My hands shake too badly for me to put it on the first time. The ring slides down my finger, the weight feeling like a shackle. “There. Now leave.”
“See?” Philip smirks. “All it takes is a little firm handling. Goodbye, Briar.”
I stare at the door for several long moments before scrambling to lock it. Jenson was right about my safety.
But I never expected the threat to come from Philip.
It’s all too much. Last night. Now this?
The back of my throat begins to burn as I retreat to my armchair and try to breathe, the ring heavy on my finger. I still feel too exposed, as if he’s going to walk back in at any moment.
I glance at the door again. And then to my phone.
Scrambling for it, I press the first number on my list.
The tears start falling before it even begins to ring.