Page 25 of Wicked God
“You heard me.”
The words don’t compute. “Why would he? You already paid your tuition. I mean, I paid your tuition.”
She rolls her eyes. “He said you’ll get your refund.”
“A refund?” I sputter, tossing my jacket over a chair. “That’s not the point. Your education is—”
“Unnecessary. At least according to Father. He says I should focus on more ‘appropriate pursuits’ for a Hawthorne daughter, since you refuse to marry his chosen heiress. He’s using me as leverage. Either you agree to his marriage arrangement, or my academic career is over.”
I clench my fists. This is low, even for our father. “He can’t do this.”
“You know as well as I do that he can and he will. He’s already done it. I’ve been officially removed from all my classes.”
I start to pace. “There has to be a way around this. We can appeal to the university board, or—”
“Don’t you get it?” Lauren’s voice rises, sharp with frustration. “It doesn’t matter. He’ll just find another way to control us. He always does.”
“Why aren’t you angry?” I stop and sink into the armchair across from her, running a hand through my hair.
She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. I’m more surprised that you didn’t see this coming.”
I’ve always been a dutiful son. My stubbornness has gotten me into trouble before, but I know what’s expected of me, and I do my best to deliver. The last time I outright defied my father was ten years ago, when I left our city behind and moved to Boston to chase my own ambitions. He tried to talk me out of it, of course. Even Lauren and my friends tried to intervene. But once I’d made up my mind, there was no changing it.
Which is probably why I forgot how my father handles conflict: blackmail, manipulation, and bribery. And he’s a master at all three.
I have to fix this.
I pull out my phone and dial Father’s number. I frown when it goes straight to voicemail.
“He’s not answering,” I mutter.
Lauren’s lips flatten into a thin, resigned line. “You know how stubborn he is.”
I rake a hand over my face and try again, this time leaving a terse message demanding he call me back immediately. Then I fire off a barrage of texts.
No response.
“This is ridiculous.” I pace. “I’ll call the school tomorrow. They can’t just expel you without a reason.”
“There was a reason. You. He’s been a big donor for years, and now he wants you to marry that girl so badly, he’s willing to ruin his own daughter’s education.”
I stare at her. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”
“If I said just marry the girl, I would be a horrible sister, wouldn’t I?”
“Shut up.” I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling. “I’m not getting married.”
“Then I’m not getting my degree,” she fires back, arms crossed. “What are we going to do about it?”
A long sigh escapes me. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“Great.” Lauren jumps from the couch, eyes bright. “Because I’ve got an excellent idea.”
My father isn’t the only one I can’t reach. Thirty-six hours since I watched Olivia walk away, and still no call. I’ve checked my phone forty-three times today—I counted.
The weekend with her was the best I’ve had in years. She made me feel things I didn’t think I could feel. The way she looked at me, the sound of her laughter, the way she curled into me at night—it was perfect.
Of course, I’d meet the perfect woman right as I’m being forced into an arranged marriage.
