His Forced One

Chapter 1

Brent's POV

I stormed into the office enraged, my fists folded beside me as I gritted my teeth.

I turned and kicked the door before banging it furiously, venting my anger on it as if it were my offender.

I paced about my office, my hands on my chin, my mind swirled with different thoughts.

"Why can't this man just let me be? I don't have an idea when marriage suddenly becomes a compulsory thing and there's a certain age limit for it." I raked my hands through my hair frustrated.

My mind drifted back to a few days ago when my father matched me with a young girl, a daughter to one of his numerous friends, and how I had fought vehemently and canceled the proposal.

"And to make matters worse, I don't even have a say in it; I don't get to choose who to marry and when?" I continued pacing up the room.

I'm restless and annoyed, provoked by my father's constant engagement.

A rasping knock sounded on the door before it opened; Tony, my secretary, walked in and looked grave.

"I don't remember giving you permission to come in," I yelled seeing him as an opportunity to take my anger on.

Tony flinched and stepped back a little bit, his face flushed in fear as if to say he was trapped in a lion's den.

"I...I'm....s..so...sorry sir." He stammered gravely. "But it's very important sir." He added quickly before I could walk him out of the office.

I raised an eyebrow and nodded my head for him to spill out and leave my office.

"Mr sterling sent for you on an important meeting." He replied and dashed out of the room immediately.

A frown settled on my face, wondering the reason he was sending for me early this morning, and there was only one way to find out.

....

"Father you sent for me." I began entering the spacious office.

His desk is piled and scattered with different files and papers, and he rests beneath the huge table.

Sterling raised an eyebrow and peered at me. "Not even a greeting son." He smiled.

"Why did you call for me? I hope what you've to say is important to draw me out of my office." I snapped angrily.

He stood up, his hands fitting his well-ironed pants, and he strides the remaining space to the window facing the outview of New York.

"Of course it's is important, very important." He replied.

"Not to waste much of each other valuable time. I've arranged a marriage between you and Vanessa. You'll be getting married soon." His lips curled into a smile.

"What, Dad? You're kidding me, right." My eyes widened at his words, and when he didn't respond, I knew he wasn't telling a lie.

Doesn't this man ever understand the word 'I'm not interested in marriage'? Wasn't it a few days back that I refused one of his proposals and as swiftly arranged another one without my consent?

My fury doubled as I stared at his figure backing me; all my life, I've been nothing but a tool in his arms, twisted and made to carry out his desires, not ever caring for my feelings and choice in it.

I've been nothing but his pawn to be used anytime and anyhow, I'm like a dog, obediently following his master's orders without altering it.

As memories rushed back to me of the days when I felt trapped, unable to state my desires and feelings about my life, I felt a tingling sensation and all the anger of being tongue-tied welled up inside me.