Unholy Obsession

Chapter 20; Parent drama

Hannah's pov

Why? 

I balled my fist, my gaze dropping to my knee. 

What do they mean by marriage?

A storm raged within, heat spreading through my chest. When I received the invitation from Mama, I had willingly accepted, considering we hadn't spent much time together. What I didn't expect was to be tossed into a love trap.

Sitting across the dining table were my parents and at the end were our visitors—Mrs Anbassa, a brown skinned woman with narrow set eyes and a bulbous nose sat next to her son Julius. Their faces were alike, the only difference being the wider set jaw that Julius possessed and his shaved head, a sharp contrast to his mother's braided type C hair.

Mama turned her gaze to me and said, "Julius, Hannah here graduated with a degree in Business administration and is a very good cook."

My jaws clenched. Was I some sort of item on the market for sale? This wasn't the first time they had pulled a trick like this. But apparently, it seemed this time they were serious. The tight line between Papa's greying brows was enough evidence. Was it because I was getting older?

I gulped down water from my cup. My whole life, I had done everything the way they dictated. Now for a big deal like marriage, they were tossing it around like it was a topic that I had no say in.

"Julius, so you're a doctor now," Papa said, smiling. "Which hospital do you work in?"

"Victor Hastings Memorial Hospital."

"Ah, that's impressive."

And it was none of my business. Since Julius came in, I hadn't said a word to him. Marriage? Fuck that! I just got a job in a company most secretaries would only dream of getting, and now I was to tie myself down to a man because my parents apparently believed that he made more than me since he was a doctor. 

African parents and their idolization for doctors would never seize to amaze me.

How much did the bald headed fucker earn? At most 300k dollars per year. With my salary structure adding all bonuses, I could end each year with a total of over 500k dollars. I was finally in a time in my life I never believed would happen so suddenly. What I needed now was the utmost concentration, not marriage. 

If I were to ever get married to someone, it had to be—

Tall, British and a billionaire?

Heat crept to my cheeks. What the hell was wrong with me? There was no way he could be in my head at a time like this. My heart drummed against my chest and I took in much needed deep breaths. 

"Excuse me," I said, standing. 

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. My shoulders were heavy with boulders of my mother's judgement. Gulping, I left the room, her gaze spiking my skin with goosebumps. Not the good kind. 

Entering the kitchen, I rested my hand over the sink and turned on the tap. The whoosh of the water gave me a moment of clarity. I settled my hand under the tap, feeling the wet force strike the middle of my palm. Heat clustered between my breasts, sweat running down my stomach and making my bra itch my underbust. I was fucking uncomfortable. Everything in this house was irritating me.

How dare they do this to me?

I hunched over the sink, my triceps tightening. Footsteps disturbed my brief solitude and my spine stiffened.

"Hannah."

I turned off the tap. "Mama."

Her feet-falls bounced off the walls of the kitchen. Resting the small of her back on the kitchen island, she crossed her arms.