The Selected must maintain a 3.5 GPA or higher
The Selected is required to attend Lincoln-Wood University
The Selected may not date anyone but the five original bloodline heirs
That’s cold blooded, having us all plan and attend an engagement party that only one of us will be the one proposed to. Yikes, talk about awkward.
He reads each rule out loud, and as they pass his lips, it feels like a collar tightening around my neck, and not the type that makes my pulse race.
If I’m being honest, some rules aren’t truly an issue. It’s that the choice has been snatched from me in a modern-style bridal hunt. I want to shout and ask why I have to participate since I’m supposedly an original bloodline, but I feel like I’ve already pieced the answer together.
I have a vagina, and of course, that will not do in this males only fucked up boys’ club.
Sighing, I ponder what other female Bradfords had to do. Were they kept from their birthright because they were women, and forced to marry some other heirs to keep the line pure?
“Miss Bishop,” a voice booms, and I come back into awareness. I was so lost in thought I must not have heard the first time I was called.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Mr. Edgewood’s eyes narrow in displeasure.See cold and prickly.Definitely not matching this earth-toned interior. I wonder if his wife designed this, hoping it would rub off.Mission not accomplished.
“I said, please turn to page fifteen of your documents to go over what happens once one of you becomesThe Chosen.”
I nod, quickly turning the page as I internally roll my eyes.More fucking rules.What next, the color requirements for our underwear?
It all sounds so damn ominous,The Selected…The Chosen, like some cult virgin sacrifice, until I remember, not everyone around the table is a virgin. This better not be a sacrifice.
I’ll be kinda pissed if I die before I can actually sample a dick or two. I snicker at my stupidity. With everything going on, I’m thinking of making sure I don’t die a virgin. Obviously, while it’s not my primary concern at the moment, I’d still like to scratch that fucking itch at some point.
Shaking my head from my lustful and poorly timed thoughts, I begin to read what will happen once someone is chosen.
The Chosen will attend Lincoln-Wood University with the heirs in a major of the Fraternitas’ choosing.
The engagement ceremony must take place after the graduation ceremony.
The Chosen must maintain a 3.5 GPA.
The Chosen must take etiquette classes.
The Chosen will be legally married within one year of the engagement to the Edgewood heir and legally bound to all five bloodlines by contract and commitment ceremony.
The Chosen must have a baby within the first five years of marriage.
The Chosen must provide each heir with at least one male heir.
What the fuck? Are we broodmares? Who the hell is having five or more kids? I want kids but five? What if I don’t want them until after I earn my degrees and start my career? Shouldn’t this all be decided between whoever’s chosen and the heir?
I can’t hold my tongue any longer. “Who came up with this farce of a process?”
“Miss Bishop, you will refrain from interrupting. The rules have been set, and the primary expectations were set long before any of us were born,” Mr. Edgewood states, his tone sharp.
“Of course, you’d have an issue with what’s expected. You have no respect for values and tradition,” Sam snarks.
I roll my eyes at her kiss-ass behavior.
“He’s not who you need to impress. You can dial back your ‘pick me’ energy some,” I snap back.
“Ladies,” Wes’s dad’s voice cuts through our banter, silencing us both. “If you two could kindly save your bickering for outside, we can proceed.”
