Chapter 7
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I vacuumed my room, the hum of the machine barely muffling the sound of my quiet sobs.
This would be the last time I would ever clean this space, the last time I would reside in this humble home.
In a week or two, this house would be vacant, my family and I moving on to new lives, new futures.
My parents and Logan were grateful for the sacrifice I was making, but I couldn't help the creeping doubts that lingered in the back of my mind. Colson Ashworth was not going to be an easy man to live with. Mercurial, stubborn, and oftentimes cruel - could I truly handle being his wife?
I suppose part of the reason I accepted his proposal was a desperate desire to stop being anonymous, to no longer be seen as the poor girl among the wealthy elite. As Colson's wife, my status would be catapulted to the top of the social hierarchy. But at what cost?
The vacuum suddenly fell silent, and I turned to find Logan standing behind me, his arms enveloping me in a comforting embrace. The gesture only made my tears flow harder, and I turned in his hold, burying my face against his chest.
"You can still change your mind," Logan murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “We want you to change your mind. We’ll figure it out.”
I shook my head, sniffling. "It's done. I'm not crying because I have to marry Colson. I'm crying because I'll miss everyone. This place, our life."
Logan's grip tightened. "I'll never forget your sacrifice, Joey, but it wasn't necessary. We could have found another way."
Looking up at him, my vision blurred by tears, I tried to explain. "You know that's not true. At least this way, we all walk away with something positive. Dad gets the business he's always wanted, Mom gets a chance to fulfill her dream, and you get the promotion you deserve."
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "And what do you get, Joey? Marriage to an evil asshole?"
I flinched at his words, even as a part of me knew they were true. "He's not that bad," I mumbled, struggling to convince even myself.
Logan's expression hardened. "Stick to your guns, Joey. Don't take any shit from Simone or Vaughn."
Vaughn. Simone. I'd almost forgotten about Colson's children, my soon-to-be stepfamily.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
Gaining their acceptance, navigating their potential animosity, would be a constant battle.
And then there was Vaughn - the man who had proclaimed his feelings for me, who would now be forced to watch me marry his father.
I groaned, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. "I forgot about them."
Logan chuckled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You'll be their stepmother."
"Ugh, don't bring that up. It's pretty creepy when you think about it," I grimaced, the idea making my skin crawl.
My brother let me go and stepped back, his expression turning more serious. "It sure is, but Simone's bark is worse than her bite. She’s gotten better."
She hadn’t. I gave him a tight-lipped smile, knowing deep down that his assessment was far from the truth.
During Logan's freshman year at Yale, Simone had pushed me into the showers, the scalding hot water searing my skin.
I'd suffered first-degree burns on my arms and hands, but I had kept silent, knowing that speaking up would only make my life a living hell.
Simone was popular, and with Logan gone, my high school existence had become a nightmare. I'd resorted to faking menstrual cramps and even a sprained ankle to avoid sharing a gym class with her. But now, the tables had turned. As Colson's wife, I would have the upper hand.
A spark of determination ignited within me, and I straightened my spine. "Well, now the shoe is on the other foot. I'm going to use my newfound position to get her back."
Logan's eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and pride in his expression. "Careful, sis. You don't want to underestimate the Ashworths. They play dirty."
I nodded, understanding the gravity of his warning. "I know, but I'm not that same scared little girl anymore. I've got teeth, and I'm not afraid to use them."
As I spoke the words, I felt a shift within myself.
The timid, meek Josephine was fading away, replaced by a woman who was ready to fight for her place in this new world.
Simone and Vaughn may have thought they could walk all over me, but they were about to learn a harsh lesson - I was no longer willing to be their victim.
With a newfound sense of purpose, I stepped out of Logan's embrace, smoothing down my dress. "I'm going to make them regret ever crossing me," I declared, my voice steady and sure.
My brother grinned, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "That's my girl. Go show the Ashworths what you're made of."
As I left the room, I felt a weight lifting from my shoulders.
The fear and uncertainty were still there, but they were overshadowed by a burning determination.
I was no longer just the poor girl trying to climb the social ladder.
I soon would be Josephine Ashworth, and I was ready to take on the world.
I stood in the center of my small room, watching as two men sent by Colson efficiently picked up the few belongings I had chosen to take with me.
My clothing, a handful of sentimental items - that was the extent of what I was removing from this humble home.
Anything else I might need, I knew, would be provided for me by my soon-to-be husband.
As I looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings, a heavy sadness settled over me. This would likely be the last time I ever set foot in this space, the last time I would breathe in the comforting scents of my childhood.
My mother's quiet sniffles drew my attention, and I turned to see the tears streaming down her face. "We won't see you," she choked out.
I crossed the room, wrapping my arms around her in a tight embrace. "You will," I assured her, my own throat constricted with emotion. "I love you."
My father's gruff voice reached my ears then. "You don't have to do this."
"Hush, Dad," I replied, the familiar exchange drawing a bittersweet smile to my lips. When I was a child, he would never let me dwell on my sorrows - one outpouring, and then a firm hush to signal the end of the discussion. I knew this was his way of acknowledging the finality of my decision.
I turned to him, burying my face against his chest, inhaling the comforting scents of freshly mown grass and damp earth that seemed to cling to his clothing. "Daddy," I whispered, my voice trembling.
"You can always come home," he murmured, his words barely audible to anyone but me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing the truth in his statement. "No, I can't."
As he gently disentangled himself, his gaze meeting mine, I saw the understanding there. He knew, as well as I did, that any attempt to leave Colson would come at a devastating price. This was permanent, irrevocable.
I quickly moved to hug Logan, relishing the familiar comfort of my brother's embrace. We would still see each other, keep up our weekly lunches, but I knew those moments would be tinged with a longing for the life I was leaving behind.
With one last lingering look around the room, I followed the movers out the door, my family's anguished expressions seared into my memory. This was the end of one chapter and the beginning of another - one that would challenge me in ways I could scarcely imagine.
But as I stepped out into the sunlight, I steeled my resolve. I was no longer just Josephine Shaw. I was the soon to be Josephine Ashworth, and I would face the future with unwavering determination.
I made my way across the expansive lawn, pausing for a moment to glance back at the modest house that had been my home for my entire life.
As a child, I had often stared out the window at the grand Ashworth mansion, wondering what life was like behind those imposing walls. Now, I was about to find out firsthand.
When I reached the double doors, I hesitated before knocking, only to have Orville greet me with a nod.
"Miss Shaw, you don't need to knock," he said, stepping aside to allow me entry.
"Thank you," I replied, stepping inside just as Simone descended the grand staircase, her face contorting into a sour expression at the sight of me.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she screeched, her voice piercing the air.
In response, I lifted my hand, allowing the light to catch the dazzling engagement ring that now adorned my finger. Simone's eyes widened, her lips parting in a shocked gasp.
"OH, HELL NO!" she screamed, her outrage echoing through the foyer.
Just then, Colson stepped into view, his presence commanding the attention of the room. "Simone! You will not disrespect my fiancée, or you will lose your privileges," he said sternly.
"Fiancée?" Simone spat, her expression twisting in disgust. "Are you kidding me?"
Colson wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him, not out of affection, but to antagonize Simone further. The ploy worked, as her face scrunched up in distaste.
"I'm deadly serious," Colson continued. "You will be respectful, or you can find your own place to reside."
Simone's features shifted, displaying a mix of anger, fear, and frustration. "But she's younger than me," she whined.
"You wouldn't like anyone I chose no matter what age. You will accept Josephine into our family. Now, if you'll excuse us," Colson said dismissively, guiding me down the hall with his hand resting lightly on the small of my back.
As we entered his office, Colson turned to face me, his body pressing against mine.
I held my ground, unwilling to show any sign of weakness.
He then leaned in, capturing my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth.
I gripped his arms, feeling my legs grow weak, but I refused to give in to the sensations.
Colson pulled away, his hands cupping my face as he gazed at me with a vulnerability I hadn't expected to see. We stood in silence for a moment, the tension palpable, before he cleared his throat and stepped back, leaving me to process the intense encounter.
“Your kisses are deadly,” Colson muttered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. His hand was warm as it closed around mine, firm but not gentle, and he led me to one of the leather chairs in front of his imposing desk.
I sank into the chair, feeling the magnitude of his presence as he moved behind the desk.
The atmosphere shifted, the moment of intimacy evaporating as he became all business again.
Colson reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick stack of papers, placing them on the polished surface between us with a practiced ease.
“This is your prenuptial agreement,” he said, his tone clipped and professional. “Please review it.”
He pushed the document toward me, his gaze steady and unwavering.
My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the pile of papers, the weight of the decision I was about to make pressing down on me like a physical force.
I reached for the document, my fingers brushing against the smooth paper, but hesitation rooted me in place.
“Shouldn’t I have an attorney look it over before I sign?” I asked, my voice steady despite the anxiety churning in my stomach.
Colson didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. His eyes bore into mine, cold and calculating, as he rested his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “You’ll find I’ve been quite generous if we separate, but I don’t see that happening.”
There was an unspoken promise in his words, one that sent a chill through me.
I knew what he meant—this wasn’t a marriage that would end in divorce court.
Colson wasn’t the kind of man to let go once he had his grip on something—or someone.
This was a union that would last until death parted us, whenever that might be.
I took a deep breath and began paging through the document, each clause and condition feeling like a chain tightening around my freedom. When I reached a section labeled Non-Negotiables , my heart stuttered. My eyes zeroed in on two words that hit me like a punch to the gut—no children.
My vision blurred as tears welled up, and I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. I had always wanted a family, a child to love and nurture. The thought of never having that chance made my heart ache.
“No children?” I managed to squeak out, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Colson’s response was immediate, his tone cold and unyielding. “I already have children, and I don’t want any more. We’ll have a good life without them.”
His words cut deep, confirming what I had suspected but refused to fully acknowledge.
Colson Ashworth was a man who prioritized his own desires above all else, and this was just another manifestation of that selfishness.
He was forty-seven, set in his ways, and unwilling to accommodate the dreams of a woman half his age.
“Okay,” I said, the word slipping out before I could stop it. But it was weak, unconvincing even to my own ears.
Colson’s gaze never wavered, as if he was daring me to challenge him, to push back against the ironclad terms he had laid out.
But I knew better. There was no room for negotiation, no space for my own desires in this arrangement.
I was trapped, caught in the web he had spun, and any attempt to break free would be futile.
He stood up, the movement smooth and commanding, and walked around the desk to stand in front of me. He extended his hand, palm open, waiting for me to place mine in his once more. It was a gesture of control, of dominance, and I knew that in taking his hand, I was surrendering to him entirely.
“Josephine,” he said, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “Trust me, you won’t regret this.”
I looked up at him, searching his eyes for a trace of the man who had kissed me so passionately just moments ago, but all I found was a wall of indifference. Colson Ashworth was a man who knew what he wanted and took it, without hesitation and without remorse.
Slowly, I placed my hand in his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. It was a final act of surrender, a silent acceptance of the life I was about to enter. I stood, and he pulled me close, his other hand coming up to brush a stray tear from my cheek.
“You’ll be happy with me,” he murmured, as if trying to convince us both. “I promise.”
But as I looked up into his eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder if that promise was meant to comfort me—or control me.