CHAPTER 3: IDEAL BRIDE
Dear Miss Farrah,
We received your application, but unfortunately, as we’re right in the middle of the semester, there are no available Teaching Assistant positions. Please apply again at the beginning of next semester.
I grit my teeth, locking my phone and shoving it back into my apron pocket.
I turn back to the counter, furiously blinking back tears. It’s been three days since Professor Lincoln gave me his sick ultimatum.
I can’t sleep with him. So that means I’ll lose my TA position, the extra income, and my scholarship. June’s medication is almost out, and—
“April, pass out refills.”
I refrain from shooting Mindy a scathing look. I don’t think I can ever forgive her for not helping me out with Professor Lincoln yesterday.
I grab the pot of coffee and step around the counter. I weave between customers, offering refills.
“Which one do you want?”
“Lucas, duh. He’s the eldest and has more to inherit.”
“I want Peter, he seems like a sweetheart.”
“Nathan is the best looking by far, we’d make gorgeous babies.”
I bite my lip, wishing I didn’t have to listen to the chatter all around me. But Rover is a campus hangout spot, and the Ashfords have heavy influence on campus. It’s no wonder a vast majority of the students are interested in the selection.
“Oh look, they’re interviewing them now!” a girl squeals, and suddenly, the usually muted TV has sound.
“So tell me, Nathan, what is your ideal bride like?”
A chuckle. “To be honest, I’m not really picky.”
I freeze, Nathan’s voice washing over me like warm caramel. Even when he taunted me and threw snide remarks my way, I always thought he had the best voice I’d ever heard.
I turn to face the screen, and there he is—seated between his brothers.
He gives the camera a winning smile, and several girls around me swoon. “The point of this selection is to have a partner that will aid me in leading the Ashford Empire; as long as she meets the set requirements, I’ll be content.”
I frown. He really is no longer the boisterous boy I once knew; he’s so…mature and graceful.
“Well, I’m sure the girls vying for your hand in marriage would love something to give them an advantage. Can you tell us anything about your past relationships?”
I would rather eat shit than kiss you.
The awful memory slams into me, and my grip on the coffee pot slacks. It drops to the floor and shatters with a loud crash.
My eyes widen and my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I apologize profusely to the customers I shocked.
Feeling stupid and mortified, I clean the mess as quickly as I can, hating myself for letting Nathan Ashford still have an effect on me after all this time.
What do I care about what he looks for in a bride? Or about his past relationships? We never had anything—he made damn sure.
This whole selection thing is throwing me for a loop, and I have more important things to worry about.
It’s time to shove Nathan Ashford to the back of my mind, where he’s always been and where he belongs.
As an apology for breaking an expensive coffee pot, I offered to stay back and close up. Mindy was only too happy to oblige.
I wipe down the last of the tables, thankful to have a little peace and quiet after the busy, chaotic day I’ve had.
The little bell in the coffee shop jingles, signaling someone’s entrance.
“Sorry, were clo—”
I whirl around and balk. Professor Lincoln smiles, moving towards me slowly. “It’s day three, April.”
I swallow. “I’m aware.”
“And?”
I grit my teeth as I say, “I quit. I’m not sleeping with you for anything.”
He raises a brow, still moving towards me. “You’ll lose your salary, and your scholarship, and you’ll fail my class.”
I move back, away from him. “I’m aware.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not being smart, April; think about June.”
I hiss, feeling my back hit the counter. “Keep my sister’s name out of your mouth.”
He chuckles, still moving towards me. My heart rate quickens as he closes the space between us and braces his arms on the counter, trapping me between them.
“I’ll give you one more chance to reconsider,” he says, his eyes roving over me hungrily.
I gulp and push against him. “Move the fuck away from me.”
He smiles wickedly. “Wrong answer.”
I yelp when he yanks my wrist from his chest and slams it against the counter painfully.
I start to struggle as he presses himself into me, his weight pushing me down into the counter. “Get off me!” I try to keep the fear out of my voice, but it’s difficult, with the panic choking me.
“I gave you a chance for it to be win-win, but you gen z’s are so damn stubborn.”
“Let me go!” I struggle harder, but Professor Lincoln is a large man. I heard he used to play football in his heyday; I’m no match for him.
“Please,” I beg. “Please don’t do this.”
He already has his hand on my shirt, undoing the buttons. “Shhh,” he coos. “It’ll be fun.”
“No,” I sob, struggling harder but to no avail. “Stop!”
Suddenly, his weight is thrown off me, and I blink at the sudden change. My eyes widen as I stare at my would-be-rapist, groaning on the floor of the coffee shop—then my gaze shifts to the large muscular man dressed in all black that threw him.
“Wha—?”
“What the fuck?” Professor Lincoln hisses, his face purpling with rage.
My hands fly to my buttons, hastily doing them back up as more men in black file into the shop—four in total.
The one that threw Lincoln glares at him. “Touch her again and I’ll break every bone in your body.”
His words are dangerous and threatening enough that my professor cowers.
“Who—“ I swallow, trying to get my bearings. “Who are you?”
My rescuer turns back to me and bows slightly. “Forgive me for the less-than-ideal first impression. I’m Gabriel; you’re April Lilian Farrah, correct?”
I nod, blinking in confusion. “How do you know me?”
“We’re here to escort you to the Ashford family estate.”
The name makes my heart skip a beat.
“What? Why?”
His next words shock me even more than my almost rape.
“Because you’ve been shortlisted for the bride selection of the Ashford heirs.”