The Avaricious | Book 3

06 | Haarte

"Or is your opinion of me
Not my responsibility?"

⊏ --------------- ⊐

"I'm afraid I'd be too tempted to rip it off you."

And what if I wanted that, William? All I could think about as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the black silk across my skin returning the gaze, was the way his fingers felt against my skin. Lust.

I didn't crave much, nor did I expect much from relationships; But I did crave the feeling of his lips against my skin. I wanted William to treat me like an angel. Like if he looked away for too long I'd vanish under his touch. I wanted the boy to fall to his knees and worship me.

It was childish of me, to pray for such idolization, but how would I go without it? I'd realized quite quickly that our relationship would only be more unbearable if he expected me to bow my head to every command. I would never, I will never.

So here I stood, hoping that he'd stay true to his words. A week after the original meeting, I'd done everything I could to avoid my parents and any topic that would relate back to my unavoidable future. Until tonight. Apparently, William had planned a date night and told everyone except me.

I got the news from my maid of all people. She offered to help me get ready for tonight, but I knew immediately what I wanted to wear.

The black silk looked better on my body than it did in the box, hugging each hidden curve perfectly. The front hung down a bit, leaving a room where my chest was supposed to fill but didn't. The slit in the dress reached my high thigh so I'd have to be careful to not slip up and flash anyone.

Everything from my white lace undergarments, lose yet somewhat tamed hair, down to the white heels that buckles at the ankle. Diamond earrings I got from Sylvie Puri on my 21st birthday -- my close friend of 10 years -- hung easily from my ears. The matching diamond necklace gifted by Lavinia Melborn was situated just above my collarbones.

I felt elegant, though I knew the second I left the company of my own reflection, Mother and Father would have something to say. I didn't want to wait around, so I decided to pass time by reading for 20 minutes until William's arrival.

The book didn't serve as a very good distraction, as I restlessly checked the clock every few minutes. Nothing could properly prepare me for the build-up of nerves. What did William expect from me? Did he even want anything out of me, besides my body? Was I just expected to give him every command and wish that left his lips, would there be any part of our relationship that favored my own happiness? The more I mentally refused to bow down to the man I would have to marry, the more anger and aggression grew inside of me. By the time a soft knock came on my door, signaling it was time to leave, I was already filled with rage.

Get it together, I cursed at myself, collecting my handbag and prying open the door.

Surprisingly enough, it was Mother who stood a few feet away from me, rather than one of the maids. She didn't say anything, just scanned my appearance, pursed her lips, shook her hand, and walked away.

What a joke, I mocked in my head, following after her.

◇

There hadn't been much talking at all. I greeted William, he nodded his head in reply and opened the passenger door for me. And then I climbed inside the black Porsche and listened to the sound of crickets and wind flying past my head as he pulled onto the backroads and drove faster than the speed limit addressed. My hair was flying wildly around my head, stray locks whipping me in the face. But I didn't mind, I just closed my eyes and let the white noise lull me into a more peaceful state.

I didn't know where he was taking me, for all I know William could be silently plotting to murder me and use his parents' money and power to frame my own parents. Despite how irrational that idea was, a small part of me enjoyed the idea of my parents facing some kind of consequence for their bullshit.

I didn't reopen my eyes until I felt the car start to slow. Somewhere along the drive, the scent of seawater and salt invaded my senses. I was not dressed for a beach, and based on the tailored black velvet suit William himself was wearing, It was safe to assume he wasn't either.

The car finally slowed to a full stop, and I reopened my eyes as he pulled into a parking spot. Straight ahead was an array of plants and bushes swaying from the wind. The sound of waves was loud, and just beyond the barrier of leafy greens was a wild beach. Untamed sand that had rocks and sticks poking out of the sand, washed up seashells and seaweed, and aggressive waves hitting the shore. On my right was a dimly lit-up restaurant. The walls were made of logs while a rundown sign greeted us. "Haarte Bar".

I was dressed for a 5-star restaurant while attending a rundown bar. How great.

Pushing my snobbiness aside, I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out of the car, beating William to the action of opening my door for me. My heels clicked on the pavement as I began walking towards the entrance without him at my side. But it didn't take long at all for him to catch up, his frame casting a shadow in the night from the overhead lights. As we neared the door, I felt his hand slowly begin to rest on my lower back, his fingers snaking around my waist as he pulled me closer. His touch was cold.

My heart sped up, but for only a second before common sense flickered through my head. How stereotypical, my head and heart going against each other's wishes. It's a good thing that by now I've learned to follow my head. Swatting William's hand away, I narrowed my eyes at him. "Do not touch me unless I give you permission."

Almost like it was just a joke to the man, I saw the corners of his mouth perk up as he stood aside and held the door open for me. The sound of jazz music hit my ears softly. "As you wish, Estelle."

Frozen in front of the man, I stared brutally up at him. If looks could kill, William would be long gone by now. "Let me get this straight, William," I grumbled, stepping close enough to meet his gaze completely. "I don't care who you think you are in life, or who you are going to be once you become a carbon copy of your father, there is one thing I will always expect."

"And this is?"

"Respect, William."

"Estelle-."

"You're going to have to marry me whether we like each other or not. Right now I'm asking for the bare minimum, do not make me ask for full control either; Because I won't stop until I get it."

And with that, I stepped into the bar.