Strings Attached

CHAPTER THREE

"Sebastian," Mother said through tears. "What are we going to do with Dianne? It's getting worse every day."

My shirt was soaked in Mother's tears and I hugged her in an awkward manner.

"It'll be okay, Mother. Try to relax and get some rest. Dianne will come to her senses eventually," I comforted her, but it didn't come naturally—not like with Helen.

The relationship I had with my parents was very cold and official. We were never really close and loving and we never did any fun things together as a family. Everything always revolved around success and money.

Father escorted the doctor out of the room and scowled at Mother the moment he returned.

"Stop sniveling, Catherine," he bit out harshly. "The doctor said she would be fine. She just has to take the damned pills."

Mother nodded and then looked towards Dianne again and walked to her bed. Father narrowed his interrogating gaze at me. A lot of people were intimidated by his coldness, but I stared right back at him, rivaling his gaze with an equal amount of self-esteem and determination.

"I thought you said you were busy," he remarked with a sly smile. "So what brings you here, Son? Are there any business concerns I can help you with?"

"No, nothing like that," I retorted. "I just want to talk."

Suddenly, his eyes turned distant and he it seemed like he sensed what it was that I wanted to talk about. After a few moments of less than comfortable silence, he nodded and gestured towards the door.

"We can go to my office."

As we walked without saying a word, we passed one of the maids and she exchanged looks with Father that I recognized all too well. He was a truly despicable human being. No wonder he so often stood up for that scumbag Caleb. The situation I witnessed in the short time I had been there reminded me once again why I opted to buy my own house as soon as I was able to do it. I couldn't wait to have that conversation with Father so I could get out of there.

When we entered the office, Father insisted on pouring us two glasses of whiskey though I'd refused. It was his ridiculous tradition of using alcohol as an inevitable accessory to meetings because he considered it made people more opened and willing to reach an agreement.

At last, he settled down on his chair and gave me his full attention.

"Well, I'm all ears, Son," he taunted. "What is it that you are so eager to talk about?"

I didn't waste any time and I cut straight to the point. "I want to discuss this impending marriage to that girl from Rosemont we are actually considering to accept."

He took a sip of whiskey and smirked. "We are not considering anything, Son. The arrangement has already been agreed upon and accepted by both sides."

I could feel my nostrils flare in anger, but I pushed it back. "Father, I refuse to indulge that ignorant gold-digger by making her my wife, let alone by making her the mother of my child. That's not happening. There must be something we can do to shut them up and reverse the situation to our advantage."

"You don't have a choice, Sebastian," Father warned. "Just think about the damage The Goliath would suffer if these people went to the press. We would never be able to clear the stain from our name and God only knows if we would ever be able to recover the business from such a setback. The reputation and the future of our family are at stake."

"What if I am willing to take that chance?" I asked quietly.

"Sebastian, we can't afford to take that chance and you know it."