A woman who obeys is a woman who has given up her power." - anonymous
Trina's POV
Waking up this morning felt less daunting after my conversation with Naomi the night before. I felt better. She slept over and left for work this morning. Today I decided to leave my room for the first time in three days. As I walked into the living room to see my mother.
"Good morning,mum."I say as I pick up my cup of coffee. The atmosphere in the room was so thick you could cut into it. I didn't want to say anything to her.
"Trina, I'm sorry I couldn't do anything. At lease say something. You know..." She spoke in a soft solemn voice like she was trying to test the waters with me.
A wave of anger washed through me.
"No mum! I don't want to know anything." I exclaimed. "And what do you want me to say? Thank you so much for making me into one of your business investment. Or better still, should I congratulate you for finally selling me to the highest bidder. Take your pick." I said with a voice laced with pain.
I felt bad but someone needed to tell her the truth. I was more angry with her. At least with my father he had always been like that. She decided to become his shadow. A pawn that did everything he demanded without question. Even at the expense of my happiness. I could not forgive any of them.
She stared at me, shocked and hurt.
"I'm sorry"
No, What was an apology going to do for me. It didn't change the fact that I was sold off.
I stared right back at her. My insides where screaming at the betrayal.
" Your father is waiting for you in his study." She said as she leaves.
Was he waiting for me to come out of my room so he could speak or was he planning to drag me out if I didn't leave my room. Another wave of hatred flow through me.
The air in my father's study is thick with the scent of aged whiskey and cigar smoke—remnants of late-night deals and conversations I was never supposed to hear. But tonight, I was not lurking in the shadows. I was standing right in the center of the storm.
My father leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he studies me. "You're being dramatic and unreasonable
I arch a brow, folding my arms. "Oh, am I? Dramatic you say. Because from where I'm standing, it sure sounds like you're selling me off to the highest bidder." I scoffed.
His lips curled in something that's supposed to be amusement, but I know better. Robert Sinclair didn't do amusement. He did control. He did strategy. And right now, I was just another piece on his chessboard. A pawn for him to play with. But I wasn't having it.
"This is an opportunity, Trina." His voice smooth and persuasive, as if he was trying to sell me a dream instead of a life sentence. "You'll be the wife of a CEO. You'll have power, influence..."
"I don't need a husband to have power," I snapped. "And I sure as hell don't need Damian Blackwood."
His expression didn't change. If anything, he looked bored. "You don't have a choice.
The finality in his tone made my blood turn to ice. I was starting to hate him with every fragment of my being.
I exhaled sharply, pressing my fingers to my temples. "Why? Why him? Could you not have at least asked me. Don't I have a say in my own future. "
My father sighed, like I'm an inconvenience he couldn't get rid of. "Because Damian is the next CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. He needs a wife to solidify his position. His father and I came to an agreement. And why would I ask you, your options wouldn't have changed anything, daughter." He said with words slicing through me like swords.
As if I'm a business contract.
I shake my head, laughing bitterly. "So that's it? You handed me over like a corporate merger? Like it meant nothing?"
My father's eyes hardened. "I secured your future."
"I can secure my own damn future."
While all this was going on I noticed my mum had joined us in the room. She sat at a corner like she was scared of getting involved.
Silence stretches between us, thick with tension. I glance at my mother, hoping—praying—she would finally step in, but her gaze is fixed on the carpet, her fingers twisted together in her lap.
She won't fight for me.
I should have known.
''Speak some sense into your daughter, Evelyn." He said to her.
My heart ached.
''Listen to your father, Trina." She answered like a remote controlled robot.
I turned to my mother, searching her face for something anything but she wouldn't meet my eyes. The silence between us shattered something inside me.
A knock at the door shattered the moment. My father straightened. "Come in."
And then he walked in.
Damian Blackwood.
The air shifted the second he stepped inside, like the temperature just dropped a few degrees. He was taller than I remember, broader, dressed in a sleek black suit that probably costs more than my car. His dark hair is neatly styled, his posture effortless yet commanding, and when his gaze locks onto mine hazel eyes sharp and unreadable something flickers in my chest.
Annoyance.
That was all it is.
Not attraction. Definitely not intrigue. Just pure, unfiltered irritation.
"Miss Sinclair," he said smoothly, nodding in greeting. His voice was exactly what I expected low, even, utterly devoid of warmth.
I lifted my chin. "Mr. Blackwood."
I couldn't look weak, at least not in front of him. I would never give him the satisfaction of thinking he intimidated me.
My father gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Sit."
Damian moved without hesitation, settling into the leather seat like he belonged there. Like he belonged anywhere he damn well pleased. His gaze flicked to me again, assessing. Calculating.
I refused to be the first to look away.
"Trina," my father began, his voice laced with impatience. "You will be marrying Damian. This is not up for debate."
"Good thing I'm not here to debate," I said, keeping my voice sweet. "I'm here to let you know that whoever you marry me off to is in for a miserable life."
My father exhaled sharply, but before he could respond, Damian spoke.
"That won't be an issue."
His confidence made my skin prickle. I shifted my gaze back to him, narrowing my eyes. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."
His lips twitched just the barest hint of amusement, gone as quickly as it appeared. "I am."
Arrogant bastard.
I lean forward, bracing my hands on the desk. "Let's get one thing straight, Blackwood. I don't want this marriage. I don't want you. Nor do I care who the fuck you think you are. And if you think for one second I'm going to play the obedient little wife, you've got another thing coming."
He doesn't flinch. Doesn't even blink. Instead, he just studies me, like I'm some puzzle he's figuring out.
Then, finally, he smirked.
Not a full smile—just a subtle curve of his lips, enough to send a slow, unsettling heat through my veins.
"We'll see."
His voice was quiet. Steady. Like he already knew exactly how this was going to end.
And that pissed me off more than anything else.
Like that was all. Huh!
I hated this man to the core of my being.and even more now. Because the worst part?
I think he might be right.
"You would be meeting with Mr. Blackwood this Saturday." My father said. Like healways did. A controlling tone, like he called all the shots. "I expect you to go early and look presentable. I would not have any more of your tantrums,Trina. Behave yourself,child. Now go to your room. Your mother and I have things to discuss with your husband to be."
I didn't even wait for anyone else to talk.
It was like they weren't listening. I walked out slamming the door very hard to pass across my angry.
I stormed into my room.
A date. Huh! They must be joking. I would make him hate me so much. He wanted a trophy wife, one that would do all his biddings deligently.
He wouldn't know what struck him.
I would show him how much of a brat I could be. After all my father already thought I was a spoilt child. I guess it was time I actually proved being a bitch was a lifestyle.