Page 25 of Vow to Hate You
Christian ignored her, starting up a conversation about one of their clients. Damian didn’t interrupt, even though his posture was rigid. I sipped my sangria, glancing at Gina apologetically when her face fell slightly.
“Jude is trying to set a meeting with that woman,” Christian continued, talking about business. “We need investors for the new apartment building.”
“Her name is Georgia,” Damian retorted before sipping his whiskey. “If you’re taking a meeting with her, you should probably learn her name. She’s one of the top entrepreneurs in the city. If you don’t respect her, she won’t give you the time of day.”
“My dad is buying another building?” I asked. It wasn’t so much that I cared, but I’d rather be part of the conversation than sit here in silence.
My face flushed when my father-in-law flat out ignored my question. Damian shot him a look of annoyance before answering.
“He’s planning on buying Charleston Tower.”
I pondered that as the appetizers arrived. The building was in the heart of the city in a very desired area. I was sure it was going to be an expensive venture, which was why my father wanted investors.
My eyes darted to Damian as he shook his head when his father offered him an oyster.
I swallowed my amusement when Christian glared at him. He hated being told no about anything, even something as simple as his son not accepting the food he ordered.
But my husband? He detested seafood. Avoided it with a passion. Even the smell of it turned his stomach. Something he never told his father because complaining wasn’t a thing in our households. One time when we were kids, Damian tried a bite of escargot and literally puked. I was almost positive the texture of seafood repulsed him too.
Damian served me some of the caprese salad before filling his own plate. I picked at it, my appetite growing nonexistent the longer Christian talked. What made it worse was being unable to enjoy my favorite restaurant.
“Excuse me, I need to freshen up,” I said, pushing out my chair. “I’ll be right back.”
“Do you expect us to order for you?” Christian asked with irritation.
I smiled frigidly. “You did so well with the appetizers and the drinks. My input clearly isn’t needed.”
Damian cleared his throat, his eyes filling with warning as he glanced at me. Doing anything to piss off his father would not bode well for either of us, but I couldn’t help it. I was losing control keeping up this charade of a happy wife. And it hadn’t even been a week.
I hurried away from the table, hearing Christian say something about needing to make a call. My eyes drifted to the full tables, watching everyone enjoy their food and each other’s company. My heart panged as I rushed toward the restroom. Was this my life now? Going to dinners I absolutely detested?
I went into the bathroom, relief sliding through me to see it empty. Resting my palms on the sink counter, I sucked in a deep breath. Until the door creaked open.
“As my daughter-in-law, you are held to certain expectations.”
My veins filled with ice as I snapped my head up to see Christian standing in front of the now-closed door.
“This is the ladies?—”
“I’m aware of what room I’m in,” he interrupted sharply. “But I decided a private conversation was needed.”
I swallowed thickly. “A conversation about what?”
A shiver rolled down my spine as I attempted to keep my face blank. Fear slowly crept over my limbs as he strode closer. This man scared me more than my own father because I didn’t know what to expect from him.
“Your father expressed his concern.”
“Concern about what?” I asked, managing to keep my voice steady.
“Your listening skills.” His voice was cold and menacing. “Since you’re home, you are expected to do what’s right by your husband and our families.”
“Of course.” My voice was a notch higher, my pulse thrashing. But it wasn’t fear of him. It was red-hot fury. Who was he to control my life? I refused to spend forever like this. But I was smart enough not to argue when I was alone in here with him. “I’ll do whatever is needed of me. I grew up in this life.”
He grabbed my arm when I attempted to slip past him. My eyes darted to his, shooting him an icy glare.
“You are my father-in-law, not my husband,” I snapped, my self-control lapsing. “You have no right to put your hand on me.”
“I want to make sure you remember how thislifeis,” he growled, his grip only tightening. “We have eyes and ears everywhere in this city, along with the surrounding states,Natalia. You will not bring shame to our family or businesses. Do you think your father and I are stupid? We know you two didn’t marry for love all those years ago.”
