"Where are you taking my father!" Lauren hissed, trying to stand up. One broad palm went to her shoulder, seating her decisively back down.
Looming over her deliberately, Williams leaned against his desk. "They're just taking him to be checked over. Not to worry yourself, darling."
"I'm NOT your darling, asshole!" Lauren was instantly sorry for her moment of courage when his hands shot forward, gripping the top of her chair and hemming her in.
"Oh, darling," Thomas purred, "you are anything I choose you to be. And as charming as I find your defiant stance, it ends as of now. I am not permissive, like your father. You will behave. You will keep your mouth shut. You will do as you are told and you will not defy me. And if you do..." he leaned forward as Lauren shrank back, his cold gaze pinning her. "I will kill your father in front of you. And if you still defy me. I will kill you. Are we quite clear, darling?"
There was dead silence in the vast office, nothing but her frantic breathing. Lauren was suddenly aware of how good this monster smelled- crisp notes of his cologne, the warm scent of fine wool and the warmth radiating from his closeness. But he was still a monster.
"Why?" she suddenly asked, not sure what else to say, "Why me?"
Thomas tilted his head thoughtfully, still not moving away from his close scrutiny. "Because... you fit my requirements," he said, a little surprised at his honesty. Leaning back, he offered his hand. "It's late. My driver will take you home. Try to get some rest, the wedding coordinator will call you in the morning. You will answer her call immediately."
Lauren shook her head, unsteadily getting to her feet and refusing to touch his outstretched hand. "A coordinator? Already?"
He was already back in his chair behind the desk, his attention back on a huge computer monitor. "Yes, darling. We don't have much time. We're getting married three weeks from now."
Chapter 3 – Crying Doesn’t Solve Anything
In which Lauren discovers there are some things from which there is no escape. Marriage. Bondage. And loss of best friends.
When his office was quiet again, the bloody plastic cleaned and up the sniveling Frank Marsh carted away, Thomas rose and poured himself a drink, looking thoughtfully out on the London cityscape. It was not quite the unveiling he'd planned for his new bride, but Lauren's idiot father had cocked it all up quite solidly. He'd enjoyed the girl even more on their second meeting. How she'd handled the shock of it all- her father's ungraceful punishment- was really quite impressive. No screaming or hysterics. Thomas was always impatient with a new acquisition's stammering pleas or weak explanations, but when the girl realized they weren't working on him, she'd shut up. A slow smile crept across that mobile mouth as he recalled her defiance. His sweet little musiciandidhave a backbone. He would enjoy bending it to his desired shape.
Meanwhile, Lauren was trying to open the door to her flat, hands shaking and causing her to drop her keys twice and swearing under her breath. When she'd been dropped off by Broken Nose Guy, she'd noticed that the black Mercedes did not drive off, instead standing sentry in front of her ratty building. Oddly, she felt embarrassed that the thug - and by extension, Thomas - knew of her feeble living accommodations. She was sure filthy rich lunatics like Williams never dealt with little inconveniences like student loans and the tiny salary of a new member of the London Symphony Orchestra. Finally getting the door open, Lauren stepped inside and started clicking all the locks on the inside of the door shut, trying to add a new layer of protection with each chain secured and deadbolt engaged. Finally standing back and wiping her sweaty palms on her jumper the enormity of the situation finally slapped her in the face and the girl slid down the door to her nice little entry rug, beginning to cry and absently wiping her palms over and over on her jeans.
Waking up in the morning, for one glorious moment it was as if nothing had happened, that she was still Lauren with an indifferent, selfish father and just beginning a promising career with one of the most respected symphonies in the world. Then, the phone rang.
"Noooo," she moaned, burying her face into her pillow. "No, no nononononono..." Surely, if she simply kept denying it, it wouldn't be real, the bizarre meeting with the beautiful and terrifying Vice President of Jaguar Holdings. This didn't happen in the real world. The phone rang, persistently, steadily until she poked "dismiss call" and turned over. Then, it began again. This time, Lauren angrily put it on silent. She was given ten more minutes of blissful oblivion until there was a loud knock on her door. Then, another. Then another until they sped up and the shabby wooden frame was rattling against the blows.
"I'M COMING!" she finally shouted, angrily getting to her feet and grabbing a sweatshirt to go over her sleep pants. "FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! GIVE IT A REST!" Yanking open the door, Lauren's angry diatribe instantly shut off as she observed the unamused expression on Broken Nose Guy's face. He was dressed in a fresh suit and holding out an iPhone.
He thrust the phone towards her. "Take it."
"No," Lauren mumbled childishly, staring at the phone as if waiting for it to turn into a rattlesnake and bite her.
With a sigh, Broken Nose Guy pushed his way into her flat and shut the door, tapping the speaker button so the cold voice of her new fiancé was audible.
"Lauren."
She concealed a shudder. No one this evil should sound so good, Lauren thought despairingly, his beautiful voice was sonorous, deep, his enunciation perfection. And his displeasure, apparent.
"Answer me now, or my associate willmakeyou answer me."
"Dude! What!" she snarled, trying not to let her voice shake.
"First," Thomas's tone was measured and calm as if he had all day to train her, "You will address me as Thomas. Secondly, you will eliminate these American vulgarities from your speech."
The grinding of Lauren's teeth was nearly audible.
"Third," he continued as if she'd already acquiesced, "I understand you have not answered the phone call from the wedding planner, as I had instructed last night." She could hear the shifting of papers as if he was conducting Corporation business while handling such a minor inconvenience as forcing another human being to marry him.
"Why do we need a wedding planner?" Lauren finally asked, a little proud that her voice wasn't shaking. "Wouldn't a lunchtime trip to the Registrar's Office do the trick? Doesn't all the pageantry seem a little... vulgar in this case?" She was a little proud of the bite at the end of her question, but her new fiancé squashed that flat.
"Our union is rather high profile, darling." Thomas's unamused voice was deeper, more clipped. "It is expected to garner quite a bit of attention, and we are to celebrate this occasion with much pomp and circumstance. I assure you it is not to my taste either. But neither is getting married, so-" He stopped dead as he realized he'd said more than intended. Unfortunately, Lauren immediately pounced on his lapse.
"You don't want to marry me? Then why is this disastrous thing even happening? You don't seem like the type to do anything you don't want to do."
Thomas ground his teeth. Maybe he should just lock her in a room in his house until the wedding day. With nothing but bread and water. Because this cheeky little bitch was becoming extremely irritating. "I am a businessman, darling," he answered, his tone back to cool and emotionless. "And as I told you last night, you fit my requirements. Now, I have been rather lenient, knowing that you must be a bit in shock over the developments of the last twenty-four hours. My permissiveness ends here. You will answer the call from our wedding planner. You will do what you are told. And if you resist my instructions again, the next bullet goes through your father's heart. Are we quite clear?"
