“Beth can have her surgery as soon as a match becomes available. The only stipulation is that you’re married within the next twelve months and actively trying to conceive. But don’t even think about fucking me over on this, Hailee. If I even get the slightest hint that you’re trying to worm your way out of it, you’ll regret it. And I’ll ensure Beth suffers the consequences.” The cruel twist of his lips slices into my chest, stealing my breath.
I lift the glass of water to my dry lips, swallowing the cool liquid to calm my nerves and curb the fear pulsing through my body. Even if I end up with some asshole for a husband, I can play the part of a wife. Sacrificing my own happiness for Beth’s sake is a no-brainer. I have no hesitation in agreeing to the marriage. Beth’s life is worth it. But deliberately bringing another life into this twisted, transactional agreement warrants more consideration than I can give at this moment.
“I’m not asking you to do anything different to what you’re already doing at Eden. You sell your body to multiple men for short periods of time. I’m asking you to be with one man for an extended period.”
And there it is: once a whore, always a whore.
“You know this is insane, right? I’m not cattle to be fucking sold and bred!” I exclaim, my voice thick with fury as my body trembles with anger.
Mark rises from the table abruptly, buttoning his suit jacket.
“That’s fine, Hailee. I’m not forcing you; I’m only offering you a chance to give Beth her life back.”
“Wait… please, just… wait,” I plead, rubbing my forehead.
He slowly sits back down. I take a few deep, cleansing breaths to calm my racing heart.
“I don’t suppose you’d do this out of the kindness of your heart, you know, because Beth is your stepdaughter and all?” I ask, my tone dripping with sarcasm. Deep down, I already know the answer.
I sigh in resignation. “I need time to think about it.”
“Of course, take the time you need. But don’t take too long. Beth is relying on you.”
It’s a low blow, and he knows it. He’s got me exactly where he wants me. I came here tonight to see my mother, and now I’m leaving contemplatingbecominga mother.
What a prick.
“I’ve already got interviews lined up this week for potential suitors,” Mark says, his tone brisk. “Let me know by tomorrow if I should cancel them. Do you still have my number?”
I nod numbly.
“Great. Let me know your decision in the morning.”
He sighs at my lack of response and covers my sweaty hand with his dry palm. “I’m not your enemy, Hailee. Trust me to choose someone suitable. I’m not sentencing you to a life of misery. Your mother and I only want what’s best for you and Beth. We want you back in our lives.”
Yeah, right.
My mother couldn’t be bothered to be here with her husband to ambush me. Apparently, drastically altering the course of my life isn’t significant enough to warrant postponing her holiday. Sunning herself in Monaco is obviously more important. And wanting what’s best for us? Please. Leveraging Beth’s life is a messed-up way of showing it.
“I’ll let you know.”
Mark stands and tosses a couple of notes onto the table to cover his drink. “I’ll await your call, honey.” I glare at him, not bothering to hide my revulsion at the name this time. He leans down to kiss my cheek and stalks out of the restaurant with the same easy confidence he entered with, knowing I’ll agree to his terms.
I pull out my phone and order a rideshare. The bottle of wine in my hotel’s minibar is calling my name. When you’re contemplating a decision as monumental as this, copious amounts of alcohol are necessary.
Chapter four
Hailee
Drip.Drip.Drip.
Slow, steady, and hypnotic, each droplet falls from the faucet to the same leisurely rhythm. Sinking deeper beneath the bath water, I plug the leak with the tip of my freshly painted pink toenail, breaking the trance.
The heat of the water seeps into my cold bones and relaxes my muscles. I’ve always preferred my baths scalding hot. The hotter, the better. If I can’t feel the prickle of burn against my skin, it’s not hot enough. As I sip from my nearly empty wine glass, my eyes begin to droop. I don’t know why wine makes me so tired, but it does—especially on an empty stomach. Such a shame I didn’t get to eat anything tonight. What a waste of a nice restaurant.
I raise the glass to my lips once more and sigh. The idea of switching to vodka flits through my sleepy mind, but the minibar is too far away, and I’m too comfortable in this warm cocoon.
The sudden jarring vibration of my phone against the tiled floor jolts me wide awake. I stretch my arm over the edge of the tub to reach it; the glowing screen displays Beth’s name. My wet thumb swipes across the screen, but it refuses to unlock. With a determined sigh, I carefully rise from the water, my legs unsteady beneath me as I lean over to snatch the towel from the wall rack. It’s a bit far, and I have to juggle my wine in the same hand as my phone, but damn it, I will reach it. I know I should get out of the bath or put my wine glass down at the very least, but being the stubborn and lazy bitch that I am, I place my foot on the edge of the tub so I can lean over further. I have the towel in my fingers when my foot abruptly slips off the bath ledge. I fall hard back into the bath, arms up to protect my precious cargo, making the water splash over the edge and flooding the floor in the process. Pain shoots through my side as the edge of the bath jabs into my ribs.
