"We might be a married couple only on paper but don't think for one second that I won't fuck you."
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In the luxurious world of generational wealth, the union between an impulsive misogynist scion and a remarkably intelligent yet naive woman unfolded...
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
E L E C T R A
Before the wedding
"I'M HERE, Father. It's been a long time. I hope you're doing well," I greeted as I entered my dad's home office after eight years. He sat behind his desk, engrossed in a file, not bothering to acknowledge my presence, a familiar behavior from my childhood that I had grown accustomed to-his peculiar way of expressing love.
Standing at the door, I waited patiently, knowing better than to disturb him. It was crucial not to say anything or even breathe too loudly; otherwise, his temper would flare, and I aimed to avoid that. After what felt like an eternity, he finally looked up from his glasses, casually dropping the file on the table, gesturing for me to take a seat.
I settled onto the sofa, anticipating a more profound conversation after eight years of silence. His initial inquiry about my age seemed somewhat underwhelming, but I couldn't dismiss the fact that, at the core, he cared-I was his daughter.
"I just turned twenty-six," I shared in response. "Last year, I graduated from law school and earned the title of attorney. Presently, I'm employed at a law firm located on the outskirts of the city," I continued, offering details voluntarily. Somehow, I sensed he might want to know about my life; after all, he was my father.
"You went to law school and graduated?" Genuine shock played on his face upon learning about my academic achievements. "That's good," he acknowledged, eliciting a proud smile from me. It took him twenty-six years to commend his daughter, yet the emotions that surfaced when he finally did made the extended wait worthwhile.
I felt proud of myself.
As I settled into the sofa, he shifted the conversation toward my personal life. "What about relationships? Are you seeing someone?" His inquiry brought unexpected joy, as it felt like he was asking questions in a fatherly manner. I couldn't believe it - genuine interest from my father after eight years of silence. It made my day; internally, I wanted to scream and jump for joy.
"No, I'm not seeing someone right now. I've been concentrating on my studies and work. It's been hectic, leaving me with little time to meet new people, aside from my usual friends," I replied with a broad smile, hoping he'd appreciate my focus on studies and work rather than being entangled in romantic pursuits.
"It's good that you're single; that means you're free to get married," his response drained the color from my face as the implication became clear. He was suggesting an arranged marriage, a common practice in the likes of our family to further our lineage.
"Ma-marriage?" I stuttered, seeking confirmation, unwilling to believe my ears. I needed to be sure that I hadn't misheard, as I wasn't prepared for marriage, not even ready for a committed relationship. The sudden prospect left me taken aback.
