Rhys and Myla are both from rich families, when they're forced into an arranged marriage. From trying to have a blended family, strict parents, crippling trauma. Will they make it through and fall in love on the way?
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I tried not to let my face or body show the pain i was feeling as i was listening to my daughter cry over the phone, telling me how she wants me home to put her to bed and not Miss Bella, her babysitter.
"I know, Lou." I whispered. "I'll be home to you soon."
I felt everyone's eyes on me, i felt awkward and hurt, knowing my daughter was upset.
I soon got off the phone, and leaned back staring at the blonde infront of me. She is very beautiful.
"Sorry about that." I said quietly.
I felt powerless at this table and i hated it. Whenever i was with my parents i felt out of control and without power, without a reason. And it made me feel crazy.
I looked at Myla as she cleared her throat. "It's okay." She said softly, giving me a small smile.
I frowned slightly, why was she being so nice to me?
Her father Andrew spoke. "Was that your daughter?"
I nodded, sipping my whiskey.
"How old is she?" Myla asked.
"Three."
I hated this arranged marriage. I hated every part of it. The idea of getting married to a random woman, being forced, no love. The idea this woman would have to live in my penthouse with me and my daughter. That my daughter is brought into this. I hated it.
"Rhys's past girlfriend, Melissa, ran as soon as she gave birth. She left our son for another man." My father spoke.
"Dad." I grunted under my breathe.
He looked at me, and shrugged. "Hopefully Lou will see Myla as her Mother."
I pushed my chair out and stood up from the table. I left the private room and went to find a bathroom.
I was angry. Why the fuck would he say that? It was none of their business. I hated every moment right now. I hated it all.
I wanted it to stay me and Lou. Not some rich girl come in and ruin it. What if she hurts my daughter?
I walked out of the room and i heard footsteps behind me. I turned my head frowning seeing Myla.
"What?" I grumbled as we walked side by side.
"Are you okay?" She said. Why was her voice always so soft?
"I'm fine. Go away."
"I'm sorry this is happening. I'm sorry."
I looked at her, "It's not your fault."
"I know. I'm just sorry it's like this."
"You don't need to be sorry." I told her. We went outside onto the patio of the fancy restaurant. We sat on a bench together.
