"I said Fuck. Me. Salvatore." I said gritting my teeth together.
"And what if I don't?" He replied with a slight smirk. His lips curving up slowly forming up an evil smile that molded perfectly with his devilish self.
"If you you don't do it. I WILL...
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"why would I even bother if she is dead or not? I don't care-"
"You have to. And I wont give you all the information why I want you to do it" my dad said sternly and added. "And also, you're 32, you need to get married. It is time for you to stop hanging around casually"
I groaned. The heck was this? Why would I marry a girl whom I don't even know!? This makes no sense. I was about to protest again when dad spoke. "If you don't marry her, I will not give you my position after me. I will give it to Antonio"
Antonio was my uncle's son. And we both hated each other from childhood. People have rivals in school or work and here I had that in my own family. A damn snake. He used to blame everything he did on me. and dad was telling that he will give him his title? No Freaking way!
I looked at him in disbelief.
"What does that thing have to do with this!" I yelled.
"Keep. Your. Voice. Down. You're 32 You need to start a family anyways" he repeated the same thing again.
"Dad this is not starting a family! I don't even know her-"
"then think of this as business"
I could tell that was not just the reason why he wanted me to marry her, not just because it will profit us. What can a tech company and a damn model profit us?
We won't use her for our drug deal's advertisements, will we?
"I need to know the reason.. or I won't marry her
"They are coming for dinner tomorrow. And listen, I didn't ask. This was an order."
The conversation tasted bitter when I thought of it again sitting on my desk. I hated of the thought marrying someone. The typical husband and domestic husband thing wasn't for me as long as I thought.
I was someone who would work till midnight, sip whiskey to burn my needs, smoke cigar to blow away my thoughts, fuck random girls when I wanted sex.
And when I wanted to calm my anger, I would fuck then too. And being a lovely husband or a person who buys gifts, takes on a date every damn week wasn't my thing. That is why all my exes were gold diggers. Not like I loved them.
I sipped my extra rich black coffee, "Fuck" I grumbled when the burning liquid burned my tongue. I slammed it on the desk. "Tch."
I got up from my seat and grabbed the blazer before walking out of my study, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even drink coffee in peace. This is hell. I have a damn job tomorrow and I am here overthinking all night for a goddamn marriage my dad fixed without asking my fucking permission.
It is already past midnight. And now I was standing at the balcony of my lonely pent house, still holding the coffee. I looked outside at the sky. Looking at sky was one of my favorite habitry as a kid. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it now.
