Page 21 of Primal
My father and Silvano laugh at Braken’s words, which only further flames my face.Asshole.The worst part of all this is he does know everything about my medical history and that I’m on birth control. It was a requirement of participating in The Hunt. He already had access to everything, and his little secret—our secret—burns me alive. I don’t like that he has that power over me. One slip of the tongue, and he can reveal where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing to my father.
I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I’ve already slept with this man. Multiple times. And in the most primal, filthy ways. If my father found out, he’d die of a stroke right here at this table.
I narrow my eyes at him, but Braken Frost is completely unfazed. He reaches into the pocket of his designer coat to fish out a small black box, setting it on the table next to his wine glass. All I can do is exhale through my nose. Everyone already knew about this but me. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.
A large diamond sits between smaller diamonds arranged to look like leaves, all of them glinting as Braken pushes it my way. It’s a test. He won’t slide it on my finger himself because it’s meant to be my answer. As if I have a choice in the matter. My job as first-born daughter is clear: marry to strengthen the family and be grateful for it.
I take the ring from the box and slip it on my finger without saying a word.
“I must say, this arrangement benefits me more.” My father laughs as he lifts his wine glass in a toast. “As soon as you’re married, her $10,000-a-month allowance is your problem.”
“That’s a lot of shopping trips.” Silvano laughs and takes a sip of his wine. “What would our women do without our funding?”
“Be stuck walking the streets, I’m sure. Youth today always have to rely on our handouts,” my father adds, not congratulating or even acknowledging that his daughter just had a huge life moment becoming engaged.
A knock on the door heralds a waiter who enters carrying a tray of appetizers. It’s the perfect excuse to escape the room before I explode. I excuse myself to “freshen my makeup,” clinging to my clutch as I rush to the bathroom. As soon as I’m locked in one of the stalls, I throw myself onto the lid and begin the breathing technique I learned a while back.Inhale one, two, three. Hold one, two, three. Exhale one, two, three.
I do that a few times until the burning anger in my veins lessens to a smoldering flame. All I can think of is Mama, who once smiled at my innocent childhood question of why she married Papa.
“Sometimes we have to do things out of obligation,” she told me with a kiss to my forehead. “And I got four perfect kids out of it.”
Now it’s my turn to fulfill my obligation.
When I’m composed enough, I pat my cheeks, take one last deep breath, and step outside.
Only to run directly into Braken Frost himself.
“What do you want?” I snap.
“Just wanted to check on the woman who’s meant to bear me a fuck ton of sons.”
The comment immediately stokes the fire I just tried to put out. First Mason’s death, and now this arranged marriage. The entire week’s worth of pain, anger, and embarrassment accumulate into an incredulous scoff.
“Funny. I might be healthy, but what about you? Do you even know how to please a woman without chasing her down in the forest and fucking her with a mask on? I doubt it, seeing as how you’re—what was the name of that article you were in last week? Oh yeah, ‘Married to Business’. My father just signed me over to a lifetime of shitty sex with a prick who probably never had a woman actually willingly have sex with him, hence why you run The Hunt. Go fuck yourself.”
I expect to see anger or hatred in response to my tirade, but his lips lift into an amused smirk. He finds this funny. Braken takes two steps forward and traps me against the wall next to the bathroom door. He’s close enough now that I can smell his woodsy cologne when he leans in.
“First of all, I was joking about giving me a fuck ton of sons in hope of lightening the mood. And I was going to play nice, but you just burned all your bridges. I hope you’re ready to sit on your knees and beg for my forgiveness because you’re going to need it.”
I swallow down my nervousness. I refuse to back down to the likes of Braken Frost.
“Says who?”
“Me.” He snatches my left hand and brings it close to my face, letting the engagement ring catch the dim light of the hallway. “This ring proves who the fuck you belong to.”
I snatch my hand from his grip. “This gaudy thing? I have more expensive ones sitting in my vanity at home. You’ll need to do better than this low-quality piss-yellow ring. Proof that money doesn’t buy taste.”
Braken chuckles. “I guess you would know jewelry with how much of Daddy’s money you spend on it a month. For a minute in Heathens Hollow I might have mistaken you as someone other than a spoiled little rich girl, but it’s clear to see your true colors now.”
He doesn’t know a thing about me, yet he speaks like he does. It makes my blood boil even more.
“Don’t worry. Once we’re married, I’ll use your money to buy me something actually worthwhile. So go fuck yourself.”
Fuck. I do sound like a spoiled rich girl. I’ve never been good at fighting and standing up for myself, and I’m proving that right now. He’s winning this battle of wills, and I need to get out of here.
I push at his shoulder, and to my surprise, he takes a step back and gives me space to leave, but he doesn’t let me go without a last warning.
“Foul language on delicate lips. This pretty little mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day. Maybe you should think of different ways to use it before it’s too late.”