Cruel Beloved by T.L. Smith (Hero Club)
English | 2020 | Romance | ePUB | 2.7 MB
Sign on the dotted line…
You, Delylah Andrews, agree to marry Korton Whiskey, on the date supplied in the attached contract. In doing so, you will NOT, by any means, try to break this contract. If you do, the envelope held in escrow will be released to all involved, and you will forfeit your right to the privacy Mr. Whiskey has granted you.
Lawyer acting on behalf of Mr. Whiskey
I stare at the letter I received attached to the contract in disbelief.
A one night stand who’s now blackmailing me—the daughter of a senator!
If he thinks he can extort anything from me with his perversions, he can think again.
“You can’t be going tonight, can you?” My best friend, Emma, the only friend in the world who really knows me, sits on our couch looking at me with anger in her eyes.
I want to lie to her, I do. But I can’t bring myself to do it. “I have to. Appearance is everything, you know this. It’s why I got these,” I say, holding out my arm, showcasing my tattoos. Father hates them. She makes some sort of weird sound with her mouth, and I choose to ignore her while pulling my black dress over my hips and around my boobs.
“You do too much for him already.”
Clipping my earrings in, I smile at my appearance, but it’s forced. I hate dresses, and the fact I have to wear one almost every week grates on my very last nerve.
“He’s my father.”
This time I turn at the loud, weird noise she makes and see her throw her hands up in the air, then she slouches on the couch.
“A father who controls your damn life. When was the last time you did something that had no involvement with him?”
My mouth pinches into a tight line, then my nose turns up like I’ve smelled something bad. I bend to put on my sky-high heels.
“See, you can’t even answer, can you?”
Standing tall, I run my hands down my dress and shake my head.
“I had a one-night stand. Do you remember? And the bar… I have the bar.”
She sits up straighter. “Yes, and you need to do that again. You never told me much about him, but you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face for a whole month. That gorgeous man must have hit every lady spot imaginable.” She laughs.
“He was, well, something special.”
“That’s what you need more of. Someone special. Not all the men your father throws at you and wants you to be with.”
“He wants what’s best for me,” I reply, walking away from this conversation. While grabbing my purse, I notice an envelope is sitting on the kitchen counter with my name on it that I didn’t see earlier.
“No, he wants what’s best for his image. You should know this by now,” she says with an exaggerated eye roll.
“I have to go. When did this come?” I ask, holding up the envelope.
“When you were showering,” she replies, not even looking my way.
Emma isn’t my father’s biggest cheerleader. She hates all things about his life and abhors that I am caught up in it.
I pull on my dress, sliding it up farther and over my shoulder. Smoothing it out, I check my appearance in the mirror, groan with an eye roll, then give her a small wave as I walk to the door.