Page 107 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

You will call me as soon as possible.

Without thinking about it, I dial my father’s number. He picks up on the second ring.

“Dad.”

“You got married,” he says, his voice hoarse, and I hear ice cubes clacking against each other. He must be drinking, since it’s evening there now. My dad never drinks without a reason, but then again—his own child getting hitched on her first day in Chicago is probably a big enough reason. “To a man I don’t even know.”

“Dad—”

“Did you fall in love?” he asks, and I hate his question, because he wouldn’t accept anything else but a “yes” to this. How can I say it, though, if it’s a lie?

But a lie would soothe him. In my father’s world of art, love justifies almost everything. And since the majority of artists are very impulsive and ruled by their emotions, he would even accept the whole love-at first-sight thing. “Did you think I wouldn’t approve of him?”

“No,” I quickly say and see Remi get up from his chair, coming closer to me as he listens to our conversation. “It was just sudden. He proposed, and I said yes. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Dad stays silent for a few moments, and I hear him pop open the champagne and pour himself a glass if the sound is anything to go by. “You couldn’t wait just a little bit? Or come to France for this?” He takes a sip. “He’s a billionaire. He could have organized it.”

“Dad, I promise you I had no plans to get married. It just happened.” All my excuses are lame and so unfair to my dad, all things considered.

He never, ever forbade me from dating, just advised me to be careful and always tell him if someone hurt me. He took my side, no matter what, and never let anyone treat me poorly.

He didn’t have to love me just because his brother made him my guardian. But love me he did, so much I never felt unloved or unwanted.

“I didn’t deserve to walk my daughter down the aisle, Penelope?” I close my eyes, tears filling them at my dad’s disappointed and pain-filled tone. “Through all these years, I’ve made only one mistake. Because I promised to keep an oath to Theodore.” A hollow chuckle escapes him while invisible knives stab into my aching heart for hurting my father this way. “Somehow, this made me unworthy of even knowing about this marriage, let alone attending it.”

I chose Amalia over him, and yet he is the only person who has loved me. He turned his whole life upside down at nineteen to take care of me and be the best father in the world, even if we’ve disagreed on a lot of things.

“Dad, you know I love you.” I really hope he hears the truth in my words and will forgive me with time. He always does, no matter my screwups. I just don’t want him to hurt anymore. “I’m so sorry. Please believe me.” A tear slides down my cheek, and that’s when Remi snatches the phone from my grip and presses the Speaker button. “What are you doing?” I whisper-shout at him, trying to get my phone back, but he ignores me, pushing my hand away, and lifts the phone high out of my reach.

Then he addresses my dad. “Mr. Walsh, this is Remi speaking.” A beat passes. “Your son-in-law.”

“Give it to me.” I reach for the phone again, jumping up, afraid he’ll make it worse.

My father might be an artist, but he is a Walsh.

We aren't known for our patience.

“You’re nothing to me, boy, until you prove otherwise.” Dad’s statement is laced in fury and coldness, but Remi just grins, finding it amusing!

“I understand your frustration.” He rubs his chin. “What would make it better?”

I dig my nails into his bicep, really hoping it hurts him, because what in God’s name is he doing?

This whole mess will be hard enough to clean up when all this ends, once he gets bored with whatever game he has in mind. I don’t need the added problem of facing my dad’s wrath as well. Not to mention, this is not some business merger where he can discuss the terms and give my father a better proposition to change his mind about him.

“You having a beloved daughter who walks down the aisle without you.” Dad’s reply is met with Remi’s chuckle. “Nothing else will do.”

My husband looks at me, possession filling his eyes as he says, “I’ll try my best then to have a daughter with Penelope’s eyes. A pretty little thing.”

The part of me that fell in lust for a stranger back in the club melts over this. My insides flip just imagining having his baby, but the rational part is louder this time around, and it screams at me to snap out of it. “End the conversation,” I whisper, and he shakes his head.

Dad, though, apparently loves this idea, as he laughs, and his voice becomes warmer. “What a born negotiator you are. No wonder you rose to the top so quickly.” The truce lasts only a second, though, since he adds, “Still, I have no idea who you really are, and I’m not giving this marriage my blessing until you both show up here.”

What? I don’t want Remi anywhere near France!

“Dad, for now it’s—”

“I will arrange a flight for us, and you will see for yourself I’m the best choice your daughter could have made.”

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