3: 3
My father let out a cold snort.
"Just canceling the promotion lets him off too easy."
"He dared treat Ivan Fox's daughter like this. He's going to pay for it."
My father did nothing by halves; in business circles they called him the Living Reaper.
Whatever price he meant, it wouldn't be a small one. But I didn't ask.
Whatever he did, Calvin had it coming.
As I walked out of the restaurant, Calvin called.
Seeing those two words saved on my screen, "Future Husband," made my stomach turn.
Three years ago I'd resisted an arranged marriage, and I couldn't stand the way the rich sons around me behaved, so I'd deliberately hidden who I was and gone to the branch office to cut my teeth. That was how I'd ended up giving a chance to Calvin, who seemed so plain and honest.
I never thought I'd still end up getting my eyes pecked out by the very hawk I let close.
I didn't pick up. I just blocked every way he had of reaching me.
Back at my rented place, I cleared out everything connected to him.
Once it was all gone, I ended the lease and went home.
I pushed open the door to my father's study and got straight to the point.
"Dad, I don't think love is for me. I don't want to date for the next three years."
"I want to work at your side. I want to focus on my career."
My father froze for a second.
Then he laughed out loud.
For three years he'd urged me, more than once, to break it off with Calvin and come learn how to take over the company at his side.
But I was stubborn. I always assumed he'd just push me into meeting other people my age, and I used that as leverage, thinking I could force him to accept Calvin.
Looking back now, I wanted to slap myself.
I really had been out of my mind over that man.
"Good, good, good. That's my daughter. That's spirit."
My eyes went hot, and I threw myself into his arms.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I've been such a terrible daughter these past few years."
My father patted my back, the way he had when I was little and he'd been both father and mother, coaxing me to sleep.
"There's no sorry between us. All your old man wants is for you to be happy."
My eyes burned even more, and I held him tight.
My father moved fast.
Even though it was Sunday, he had my appointment finalized in no time.
Monday, which was tomorrow.
Everyone would know I was being transferred straight from the branch office to headquarters, made my father's special assistant, working right at his side.
Thinking of the new life I was about to begin, I slept through the night without a single dream, and slept well.
Early the next morning I set off for the branch office in high spirits, ready to pack up my things.
But I'd forgotten Calvin worked in my department.
Sure enough, the moment I reached the office, he pulled me into the emergency stairwell, his face dark.
"Carina, give me an explanation."
The skin under his eyes was bruised dark, and his stare was almost spitting fire.
He was clearly right at the edge of losing it.
Which made sense.
Anyone would be furious to have his girlfriend walk out on him at the restaurant on the very day of the proposal meeting, then vanish off a cliff.
But so what.
This was the price for playing with my feelings.
I didn't owe him a thing.
"Explanation? What do I need to explain?"
I shrugged.
Calvin hadn't expected me to be so unruffled. His face flushed with anger.
"Quit the act!"
"The twenty-fifth was the day we were supposed to settle the wedding date. How could you and your father just disappear and leave us all sitting there waiting like fools?"
"You not only gave no explanation, you wouldn't answer your phone, you blocked me, you moved out without a word. None of that needs explaining to me?"
My tone stayed exactly as cool as before.
"I have nothing to explain."
I rubbed at my brow, tired of it, and hardened my voice.
"Calvin, I'm officially notifying you. We're over."
"Don't come bothering me again."
Calvin stared, blank, as if he'd misheard.
"Carrie, what did you just say?"
I said it again.
"I said we're breaking up."
