Chapter5 Unbowed by His Force

These calm words exploded like a bomb in the room.

"What nonsense are you talking about!" Richard jumped up, his face full of anger. "Amanda, this is your parents' arrangement, not something for you to protest! This marriage has already been decided, and you can't back out. Using such a pathetic excuse, don't you find it ridiculous?"

Harold's face darkened with each word I spoke. I could see the veins pulsing at his temples, his lips pressed into a thin line of rage.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Harold spat, slamming his fist on the table. The china teacups rattled violently. "You invited me here to discuss marriage, knowing full well your daughter was already married?"

"This must be some kind of mistake—" Richard stammered, shooting me a venomous glare.

"She's talking nonsense. It's impossible!" he insisted.

I squared my shoulders and met his gaze directly. "Let me emphasize this one more time. I am legally married. You can verify it if you wish. Stop wasting everyone's time here."

"You dare to play me?" Harold's voice trembled with fury. "For the first time in my life, I've been made a complete fool." He snatched his bank card from the table, knocking over his tea in the process. "This is infuriating! You'll regret this. Mark my words—you'll face consequences."

"Mr. Wilson, please," Richard pleaded, desperation leaking into his voice. "She's confused, this marriage isn't real—"

But Harold was already storming toward the door, his footsteps echoing with fury across the marble expanse. "Don't contact me again, Davis. Our business is finished."

The door slammed with such force that the crystal chandelier above us trembled. The silence that followed was deafening.

Richard's face transformed. The polite businessman mask melted away, revealing the monster I'd always known lurked beneath. His eyes, so like mine in color but nothing else, burned with hatred.

"You ungrateful little bitch," he hissed, advancing toward me. I instinctively shrank back into the sofa cushions. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Wilson was our last chance!"

Richard laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "You've ruined everything! Everything! With your ridiculous lies about being married. Who would marry you? Who?"

The cruel words cut deep, though I tried not to show it. I'd spent a lifetime hiding my pain from him.

"Your grandfather is dying, Amanda. Did you forget that?" Richard continued, his voice low and dangerous. "Without Wilson's investment, we can't afford his treatments anymore. Is that what you want? To kill the only person who ever cared about you in this family?"

The mention of Grandpa Michael made my heart ache. He was the only one who had ever shown me true kindness in this house.

Richard's face contorted with rage. "Get up! Now!"

I rose shakily to my feet, my expensive blue dress suddenly feeling like a costume, a prop in their theatrical production of selling me off.

"Go to the main entrance," he commanded, pointing to the grand marble foyer. "Kneel there and reflect on what you've done. Kneel until I say you can get up."

I froze. This was a familiar punishment from my childhood. Hours spent kneeling on the cold marble of our entryway, "reflecting" on my failures until my knees bruised and my legs went numb.

"But—" I began weakly.

"KNEEL!" Richard roared, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the foyer. His fingers dug painfully into my flesh. "Kneel and think about how your selfishness has destroyed this family!"

He pushed me down onto the cold marble, my knees hitting the hard surface with a painful thud. The thin fabric of my dress offered no protection against the unyielding stone.

"Stay there until I say otherwise," Richard said. "Maybe a few hours on your knees will help you understand your place in this family."

I heard him storm off, muttering about calling Wilson to salvage the deal. My mother, Elizabeth, who had remained silent throughout the entire confrontation, merely glanced at me with indifference before following him.

Madison slipped out from behind the staircase, her blonde hair gleaming under the chandelier. She didn't bother hiding her satisfaction as she approached.

"Face it, sis. You're only good enough for some twice-divorced old man. Unlike me with my perfect husband." She leaned closer. "Stop fighting it. Your only value to this family is doing what you're told. You'll never measure up to me, Amanda. Never."

She straightened, eyes gleaming. "The gap between us will only grow. You'll always be dirt beneath my feet, while I'm about to become the lady of the Anderson estate. Hah!"

After dropping that poison, she strutted off, leaving me alone with my thoughts and knees screaming against the marble. I bit my lip hard, refusing to cry. Richard might own this mansion, but my pride remained mine.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I thought about my claim of being married. It had been a desperate lie, a last-ditch effort to escape being sold to Harold Wilson. There was no husband, no Ethan Blackwood coming to rescue me. The marriage certificate I'd mentioned existed only in my imagination.

Hours passed. The sunlight streaming through the windows shifted, creating long shadows across the marble floor. My legs had gone numb, painful pinpricks shooting up my thighs whenever I shifted slightly.

From somewhere in the house, I could hear Richard on the phone, his voice alternating between pleading and threatening as he tried to reach Wilson. Occasionally, I caught fragments of his desperate promises: "She'll cooperate," "It was just a misunderstanding," "I'll make sure she behaves."

My grandfather's face flashed in my mind. The gentle smile that had been my only comfort in this cold house. The thought of him suffering because of my defiance made my heart constrict painfully.

Was this to be my life? Always caught between my father's cruelty and my love for my grandfather? The impossible choice always before me: submit or watch my grandfather suffer?

As the sun began to set, casting the foyer in deepening shadows, helplessness washed over me. My knees were bruised, my back ached from maintaining the rigid position, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the crushing weight of my situation.

I stared at the front door—my impassable barrier to freedom. Beyond it lay a world I had never been allowed to experience, a life I could only dream of. But dreams were luxuries I couldn't afford, not with my grandfather's life hanging in the balance.

I heard footsteps behind me. I was sure it was Richard coming to mock me again or pronounce my fate. I gritted my teeth and turned to face him, only to see an unexpected face.