The Elite of the Elite

Six Inch Heels

I have somehow managed to piss off the love of my life.

How have I managed to do such a thing?

By existing apparently, shocker.

I sat in my advanced math class minding my own business really when a 6-inch, red bottomed heel came flying towards my head.

Safe to say, it did in fact reach its intended target and I now have a the imprint of a heel on the left side of my face.

I have no idea what I've done this time but this abuse is getting out of hand.

I walked out of the class and went straight to my car to wallow in private.

I picked up the phone and pressed call on the most recent contact.

While I waited for an answer, I went through my actions for the past three days and yet I could not think of anything I've done to deserve a shoe to the face.

"How can I help you, Asa?" Mateo's smooth voice echoed through the car's speakers.

"Why did I get a shoe thrown at my face ?" My question came from a place of genuine puzzlement.

"Trust me, you do not want to know. It's better we talk about it in person."

Well that's not a good sign at all.

I hang up and hold my water bottle to my face.

My poor, red, swollen face.

The swelling should go down by lunch but my confusion most definitely will not.

Half of me wants to walk back into the school and demand to know what the absolute hell that was, while the other half wants to drive to Mateo's building and demand to know why the bloody hell a six-inch hell was launched at my head.

Option one would probably get me another shoe to the other side of my face, so option two it is.

The gate was already opened so it was no problem getting out of the school.

Other than my wallowing in self pity, the drive to Mateo's office was quite uneventful.

Leaving the car with the valet, I try my best to shield the damaged side of my face with the cold water bottle and head straight up to the CEOs office.

Being able to just go up to Mateo's office really boosts my ego because despite his threats to kill me each time I look at his daughter, he still loves me deep down.

His secretary doesn't bat an eyelash as I walk straight toward the glass box that the man calls an office.

As soon as I step into the office my father and Mateo's muffled laughter greets me.

"Having fun, you two?" I ask sarcastically, while taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.

"Damn, she got you good,"

A more loving father than mine can never be found.

"Yeah, no shit. Now why did she 'get me good'?"

The mood in the room shifted to a tense one and that, I don't like that.

"Remember when you said that you were so thankful that you didn't have a fixed marriage?" My father's question send my mind into a spiral and I nodded in response.

"Well according to your dead great grandfather, you no longer have that freedom. Surprise!" His fake enthusiasm at the end left much to be wanted.

"I'm almost one hundred percent sure that whatever 'that' was is not how you tell your eighteen year old son that he's in an arranged marriage like some cheesy romance book, Cael." I deadpan.