Chapter 12 #2
Again, he doesn’t look surprised. The chair creaks as he leans back. My brothers and I get our height and our broad build from him. Our looks, on the other hand, come from the women—my grandmother and my mother were both bona fide beauty queens.
My mother won the Miss Universe title before marrying my father and settling down.
The looks I inherited had stood me in good stead with the ladies—until shrapnel ripped through my face and showed me just how shallow most of them were.
Not her, though. My assistant never seems to find me repulsive.
She also isn’t put off by my detached demeanor.
I shove that out of my mind, once again, focusing on my grandfather.
"Of all your brothers, you’re the one who carries the most hurt,” he muses.
I scowl, "But Ryot—"
"Is yet to recover from the death of his wife, I’m aware. You, however, carry the hurt on your body. He chooses not to forget his past. You, on the other hand"—he tilts his head—"are reminded of it every time you look at yourself in the mirror."
I’m not sure how to react. I didn’t expect the old man to make such an astute observation.
He must notice the surprise on my features, for his eyes gleam. "Imelda’s been pushing me to get in touch with my feelings. Guess it shows, huh?"
Imelda’s his Harley-driving girlfriend who takes no shit from him. And the old man seems to genuinely be invested in the relationship, too. It's the first time I’ve seen him forge an authentic connection with anyone, my grandmother included.
"I still don’t trust you," I drawl.
"I wouldn’t either, given my track record in how I got your brothers and your uncle to obey my wishes. Although, it has worked out well for all of them."
He’s right. They are happily married. Disgustingly so. All of them weighed down by the ol’ ball and chain, and seemingly willingly. I don’t plan on making myself another statistic on that list.
Once more, he seems to read my thoughts, for he holds up his hands, "I’m not here to force you into any kind of marriage. However—"
And here it comes.
"However, I’m aware of how much you love the Davenport property in Cumbria."
The ol’ geezer clocked that. I shouldn’t be surprised.
He didn’t get to be the Chairman of the Davenport Group and hold onto the position, despite the board trying to overthrow him a few times, without being at the top of his game.
I tilt my head, waiting for him to elaborate. I bet that was only his opening salvo.
He leans back in his chair and places the tips of his fingers together.
"And much as you may deny it, I believe that other than Nathan, you’re the one most keen on forging a career within the Davenport Group.
Being the CEO of the media division and exploring the opportunities new media has to offer is something that interests you greatly. Throw in the Cumbria property and—"
"So, you did come to negotiate my future?" I growl.
"Consider it an ultimatum.”
"An ultimatum?" I lower my arms to my side and tilt back my chair slowly.
Arthur nods. "Get married within the month, and I’ll not only confirm you as the CEO of the media division, but I'll also hand the Cumbria house over to you."
"You’re joking!" I laugh.
"You know better than that. In fact, I’ll make it easy for you."
"Oh?" I frown.
"Since I’m aware you don’t have a woman in mind to get married to—"
I begin to speak, but he shakes his head. "Don’t bother denying it; I’m aware of the love lives of all of my grandsons."
I narrow my gaze. "So, you’re admitting you keep tabs on us?"
"You boys are my future and responsible for propagating my bloodline; it’s natural that I do." He drums the arm of his chair. "And as I was saying, I’ll make this easy on you."
"I can’t wait to hear what you have to say," I drawl.
He ignores my sarcasm completely. "I have someone lined up for you, who I think would be appropriate for you."
It doesn’t come as a surprise to hear him propose this.
Arthur has made it clear, he wants all of his sons and grandsons settled as soon as possible, and he's not above arranging our marriages, if necessary. My older brothers hustled into proposing marriage to women of their choosing. That they happened to fall in love with their wives is beside the point. I made it clear to Arthur, I don’t intend on settling down anytime soon.
Only problem is, it resulted in his taking my words as a challenge.
He doubled down in his efforts to get me married off.
Still, I pretend to be taken aback by his suggestion. "You’re asking me to have an arranged marriage?"
He holds up his hand. "I’d like to call it a marriage of convenience.
You’ll get the CEO title and the property you love so much, and she’ll get access to all the benefits that come from being married into the Davenport clan.
Don’t you want to know who the woman is?
” Before I can respond, he adds, “Her name is Priscilla Whittington, by the way.”
“Whittington?” I frown. “She’s—”
“Toren Whittington’s sister.”
Toren’s the scion of the Whittington family. He’s also CEO of the Whittington Group. If there’s a close competitor to the Davenports, it’s the Whittingtons.
“We’ve discussed that it makes sense to have her marry into our family so we can join our fortunes and put the long-running feud between our families to rest.” Arthur taps his fingers on his armrest.
"Do you realize how parochial you sound?" When he begins to speak, this time, I'm the one who raises my hand. "Don’t bother replying. We both know you’re a manipulative bastard who has only one thing on his mind."
"My family’s welfare," he has the temerity to reply.