I take her hand and drop my head. I can hardly look her in the eye.
“No fighting,” she whispers again. I glance over to Wyatt and Anthony who are parking in the bay beside us.
I inhale through my nose to try and calm myself as Charlotte walks up to the front door and slowly opens it.
“Hello!” she calls. “I’m home.”
“Darling.” I hear a man’s voice greet her. “Edward, Lottie’s home.” The man comes around the corner, and the second he sees me, his face falls. He’s an older man, obviously her father. He’s good looking, too-distinguished and wreaking of money.
Charlotte looks between us. “Dad, this is Spencer,” she whispers nervously.
I nod. “Hello.” I force a smile and put my hand out. “Spencer Jones.”
He shakes my hand, his face expressionless. “I know who you are,” he replies flatly. “Harold Prescott.”
We stare at each other.
“Dad,” Charlotte whispers. “I want to speak to you alone, please.”
“Not now, Charlotte.”
From out in the hall, I hear someone say, “What the hell is going on, Charlotte? Have you seen the headlines?” Edward appears from around the corner, and just like his father before him, his face falls when he sees me. “What the hell are you doing here?” he snaps.
Unable to help it, I smile sarcastically. “Nice to see you again, Edward.”
“Go to Hell.”
“Edward, please,” Charlotte whispers. “I wanted him to meet you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m in love with him.” She takes my hand in hers. “We… we’re… we are in love,” she splutters nervously.
Harold gasps, clearly shocked, and I have to fight the urge to smile again.
Edward’s features curl together in disgust. “Don’t insult my intelligence now, Charlotte. You’ve known him for a week.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’ve known him for much longer.”
Edward’s cold eyes meet mine, filled with contempt. “I warned you to stay away from her.”
“And I told you it’s none of your business. The only person I will answer to is Mr Prescott.” I nod at Charlotte’s father in acknowledgement.
Harold raises his chin as he watches the two of us carefully.
Charlotte picks up her father’s hand. “Can we have some dinner, Dad, and talk about this… please?”
My anger boils seeing her having to beg on my behalf.
I don’t want to have dinner here. I don’t want her to have to beg for me to be accepted.
They don’t even fucking know me.
Fuck them.
Harold’s eyes hold mine, and then he turns to her. “Of course, dear.” He kisses her hand. “I have missed you so much.” He turns and leads her up the hallway.
Edward and I stare at each other until he takes a step forward. “You may have her fooled… but you don’t fool me.”
I raise my eyebrow and smile. “It’s a good thing that I’m not sleeping with you then, isn’t it?”
“You fucking prick.” He loses control and pushes me hard in the chest.
“Hit me.” I smile. “I dare you.”
He pushes me again, and I grab the lapels of his shirt. “Stay out of my fucking way,” I growl into his face.
“Oh, I’m in your fucking way, all right.”
“Edward!” Harold calls from the other room, as if he knows exactly what is about to happen. “Here. Now!”
Edward glares at me, and without another word he pushes me away and walks into the other room.
I exhale heavily as adrenaline courses through my veins, and I run my hands through my hair.
My blood is boiling.
“Spencer?” Charlotte calls. “Can you come here, please?”
I turn and follow her voice, walking into a large living area. The room is filled with expensive antiques. It looks more like a museum than a home.
“Let’s have something to drink.” Charlotte smiles hopefully, gesturing to the dining table for us all to sit down.
My heart swells with empathy. My poor angel.
“That would be nice.” I fake a smile and take a seat.
“Abigail!” Charlotte calls.
A middle-aged woman in a uniform appears immediately. “Yes, Charlotte.”
“May we have some drinks, please?”
“Of course. What can I get you?”
She looks around at us, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. “Three scotch on the rocks, and a ….” She frowns to herself. “Make it four scotch on the rocks.”
Abigail nods. “Very well.”
Edward frowns. “You don’t drink scotch.”
Charlotte nods nervously. “I do tonight.”
“Charlotte and her guest will be staying for dinner,” Harold says.
“Yes, sir.” Abigail smiles, and with a graceful nod she disappears from the room.
Harold sits at the head of the table, Charlotte next to him, and I sit beside her. Edward is opposite Charlotte. Who the other twenty-four seats are for is anyone’s guess.
Who has a dining table this big?
Edward sits back in his seat, eyes fixed on me. “So, where did you two meet?”
“It was through work,” Charlotte immediately fires back.
What’s she doing? We didn’t meet through work.
“We’ve known each other for a long time. We’ve become good friends,” she says softly as our drinks arrive.
“Thank you.” I take my drink from the male waiter. How many staff do they have?
“It should stay that way,” Edward retorts.
I roll my lips to keep myself from getting up and hitting this fucker in the head.
“You don’t even know me,” I say calmly.
“I know I don’t like you. That’s all I need to know.”
I turn my attention to Harold. “Mr Prescott, with all due respect, I would like for Charlotte and myself to talk to you without Edward here.”
Edward slams his hand onto the table. “Go to fucking hell, this is my house.”
“And you’re acting irrational.”
Harold pinches the bridge of his nose. “Edward, enough!” he snaps.
Charlotte slides her hand into mine on my lap.
“The stories you have read in the magazines are mostly untrue,” I begin.
“Mostly.” Edward huffs. “Un-fucking-believable. You were with another woman last week in Ibiza, for Christ’s sake.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Charlotte interrupts. “Those were all lies.”
“Charlotte, you cannot be that gullible,” Edward cries. “I’ve worked too damn hard to protect you from shit like this to have your reputation ruined in an instant by a cad like him.”
I glare at Edward as I swirl my Scotch around in my mouth. I get an image of myself diving over the table and strangling him ’til he turns blue.
Charlottes face falls. “He’s not a cad, and I’m in love with him.”
Harold rolls his eyes. “You are not in love, Charlotte, you are in lust. He’s your first boyfriend. There is a big difference, darling.”
“You’re wrong,” I tell him. “We are very much in love.” I reach into my inner pocket of my suit coat and take out the folded piece of paper in there, handing it over to Harold.
He narrows his eyes, opens it and begins to read.
“What’s that?” Edward whines.
“It’s a prenup of sorts,” I reply. “A co-habitation agreement.”
Charlotte’s face falls as her eyes search mine.
“What?” Edward roars, standing immediately. His chair falls back and hits the floor with a thud. “Over my dead fucking body are you moving in here.”
“Charlotte’s moving to London with me.” I take a sip of my scotch. “Tonight,” I add.
Edward’s eyes narrow and he marches across the room and stands over me.
“Edward, stop it,” Charlotte whispers. “Dad, do something.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Charlotte. He’s a player, and he’s using you,” Edward seethes.
I lose my grip on my temper. “For what?” I yell. “I’m in love with her. How is that using her?”
“Her bank balance is an incredible incentive, isn’t it, Mr Jones?” He sneers.
“I don’t want your goddamn money. It’s there in black and white in that contract.” I gesture to the contract in Harold’s hands. “I’m successful all on my own, and I have enough money for both Charlotte and I to live forever without touching a penny of your inheritance.” I stand angrily. “I didn’t come here to justify my character. I do, however, have some serious doubts about yours. Tell me, Edward, why is it you travelled halfway across the world to see me, but not once did you contact your sister to see how she was?” He narrows his eyes.
“She is not a fucking possession. She is a beautiful woman who deserves to be loved, and I will not allow you to keep her here as your trophy for one minute longer,” I yell as I completely lose control.
“Wyatt!” Charlotte calls, sensing that this is about to get out of hand.
Harold frowns at what I’ve just said.
I turn to Harold. “She is a prisoner of your fucking bank balance!” I yell.
Edward pushes me, and I quickly grab the lapels on his shirt.
“Edward!” Harold yells, standing abruptly.
“Stop it!” Charlotte cries. “Stop it, both of you.”
Wyatt and Anthony appear and run to break us up.
“You’re both fucking fired!” Edward yells to them as they drag him back from me. “How did you let this happen?” He breaks free from their grip. “You were supposed to guard her from men like him.”
I suck air into my lungs and glare at him. Contempt for him drips from my every pore. I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone as much. I step back and straighten my suit.
“Anthony and Wyatt, you work for me now,” I tell them breathlessly. “You guard Charlotte for me. To hell with this Prescott bullshit. They can stick their precious money up their arses.”
Harold’s face falls.
“Let me tell you this,” I say. “I’m in love with Charlotte. I’m marrying Charlotte, with or without your permission. Get used to it.”
I turn and take Charlotte’s hand. “We’re leaving.”
“Spencer,” she whispers.
“Now,” I growl.
“Don’t you fucking go anywhere with him, Charlotte,” Edward hisses. “I’m warning you.”