Arranged Marriage: Hot,Cocky, But he's not going to ruin my life!

Arranged Marriage 3

"Ten minutes!" Mum was calling up at me. 10 minutes until we were going to meet my husband-to-be in a fancy restaurant, the type that I used to go to all the time.

The colours of the four dresses in front of me were all purples and lilacs because mum thought they suited me most and these were my only formal dresses I'd brought with me. Well the problem of marrying was simple to prevent all I need is scissors. Quickly cutting straight through each dress in turn I was smiling to myself. The best way to put them off was to make the Boefields think I'd become one of the chavs I lived near. Pulling on my most worn pair of jeans and lacy beige top, I looked into the mirror. Actually, I look nice but where we're going I'll look like I've been pulled out of Oxfam.

"Oh my God." My mum clasped her hands to her mouth. "What have you done?"

"You can't expect me not to put up a fight," I defied. "I'm not just giving up my freedom. And anyway, am I the only one who realises that if I end up not marrying him, the chances of ever marrying to someone not in the bottom classes is zilch, nil, void, nought, etc, because no one would want be after living in his house for two months."

She looked furious now. I think I may have gone a bit far but it is all true. "We have been assured that Mr. Finley would never do any such thing so as to embarrass you. This is not negotiable though! Just think of your family!"

"What family abandons their daughter!" I didn't even see her hand come towards me but I could feel the sting from the slap.

We got out of the car and picked our way through the people at the entrance to the restaurant. It was just as posh as I'd remembered it but I felt tarnished now, like I didn't quite belong there, and it didn't have anything to do with my less than black-tie clothes. Dad stopped before a large door leading to a private room where I guessed my fiancé would be waiting. God it felt weird to say that!

"If you ruin this for us you will regret it," I heard Dad whisper as he pushed the door open. Sat at the table already were my future in-laws.

*Finley's POV*

I just stared outraged at the girl stood in the doorway. I agreed to the marriage only after much blackmail and bribery but this was beyond a joke. They surely did not expect me to marry this girl that arrived wearing jeans. As she sat down opposite me she glared at me. To be honest I couldn't even be bothered to do that, I just blanked her the entire meal.

Our parents exchanged polite conversation to begin with. By the end they were all ready to discuss the finalities of the agreement: I had the 'honour' of marrying that blond haired bimbo if we were satisfied with her company after a couple of months and if we agreed to help benefit each other as families (i.e. give them money).

"She'll stay with us in Ireland then and we'll send you dates of the important occasions. My wife will be in a house a little over twenty miles from my son's so she'll do most of the preparation. Finley and Fleur can have time to bond then," my father said closing the conversation and shaking their hands sealing it all.

"Hold on," Fleur said suddenly. Oh here we go... "What do you mean I'll be moving to Ireland?"

"You'll be living on an island, called Ireland, just across from England. Does that help?" I said it with all my best graces and charms, everyone seeing my malice but unable to say a thing.

"No not really." God she's thick as well. "I'm not staying in the same house as him, not on my own!" Luckily her dad shut her up before she could make me more angry. What right does she have to be upset with this? She's going to marry me, rich, powerful and good-looking (and it's not big-headed just the truth, not that I said it of course). I got to marry a whiney girl of no importance.