Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“One last thing.” He shifts himself toward me and comes off the bench. I think he’s going to put his shoes on, but actually he’s kneeling in front of me and there’s something glittering in his palm. I stare down at the ring and my eyes go wide. “Let’s make it official.”
“You brought—”
“Give me your hand.”
I reach out, pulse hammering. “That’s a ring.”
“An engagement ring. And if I’m a good judge—” He slips it down my ringer finger. “Perfect.”
I stare at the diamond. It’s very simple, just a cluster of stones and white gold, but it’s beautiful in its austerity.
I’ve never dreamed of having an actual engagement ring on my finger before and, for a second, I can forget that it’s from Ford Arc, an asshole and a bastard, the sort of man I promised I’d never marry, but when I look up he’s looming above me, and my mind flashes back to that football game and his gleeful smile as he hurt Sara Lynn.
Who am I about to marry? Did I make a deal with a literal devil? I don’t know anything about this man, but I just swore I’d be his wife and sleep in his bed and have his children and now I’m wearing his ring and this is happening so fast—
But I have to keep it together.
This is going to protect Mom, and that’s all I care about.
“I should go,” I say, backing away from him.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says as I hurry away. “It won’t be easy, but it might be fun.”
I rush to the door we used to get out here and hurriedly put on my heels. He doesn’t follow me but I can’t seem to catch my breath until I’m in the lobby again under the oak tree. The taste of his lips still tingles on my mouth and I look down at my hand, at the ring glittering in the soft lighting.
It’s real.
This is real.
I’m going to be Mrs. Katherine Arc and my family is going to lose their shit.
Chapter 9
Ford
Kat squirms in the passenger seat of my car and stares out the window at the Arc family home. She doesn’t say anything and the silence stretches, but I don’t mind watching her. The morning light glitters through her auburn hair, and I stare at her neck, at her lips, at her full figure, and I marvel at how anyone could ignore this girl. She’s been hiding out from the society world for so long, and I bet her family has a lot to do with that—the fucking Stocktons are about as conservative as it gets, and if she doesn’t fit in with their idea of a perfect women then they’ll keep her locked away.
The idea that anyone could be embarrassed of this girl is heartbreaking.
Now I’m setting her free.
But no, I’m not—not really.
Guilt rolls through my guts. Guilt and anger. I didn’t lie to Kat the night I gave her my ring—I told her I needed her to help me take over my family—but I kept out the most important part. This whole thing is a farce created by Grandpop, and at some point it’s going to blow up in her face.
Now I’m beginning to question whether this is worth it.
She’s been through enough already. Even if she hasn’t opened up to all the shit her family’s put her through yet, I can see the evidence everywhere, in the way she’s always closing in around herself and the way she never shows up at any of her family’s important functions. It rips open my stomach thinking about how this is going to break her one last time.
But I tear my eyes away and steel myself. I can’t start to get fucking emotional and sentimental now. Yes, she’s beautiful, and yes, she’s been through a lot with her piece of shit family, but I’m not going to coddle her just because her life’s been tough.
We all have fucking problems, and I’ve been wanting this chance since I was a little kid.
I’ve fought for this. I’ve bled for this—literally bled. I’ve endured countless attacks from my own cousins, sometimes physical, sometimes psychological. They’ve been trying to tear me down for decades only so they can try to take my place as Grandpop’s favorite, and I’ve had to endure some fucked-up shit to stay above those sick bastards, like the time I woke up with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and my sheets covered in blood because Riley roofied me and staged my room like I murdered a fucking hooker, or the time Albert spread a lie about me stealing money from Grandpop’s accounts and even got the cops involved and let it all drag on for weeks and weeks and caused me a lot of fucking nightmares and headaches, or the time someone—I still don’t know who but I have my guesses—broke into my room and burned half my important documents.