Kemora Archives

ZAVYAR

“Does he have to be here?”

I’m asking anyone who’ll listen—my father, Adam, Colin—anyone but the man I’m glaring at. I’m hunched over my dad’s desk in his home office, a pen frozen in my hand, refusing to sign away my freedom.

I’m so nervous I can’t even sit still.

Alijah grins at me from his spot behind my dad’s chair. “I’m here for emotional support. And dinner, of course.”

“I wouldn’t feed you if my life depended on it…” I drop the pen and point at him. “And whose emotional support are you talking about?”

“Yours.” His grin widens. “For when you get kicked out because you didn’t sign the papers. Obviously, I’d have to step in and take your place.”

The nerve of this guy.

His tall, thin frame and pale skin, always dressed in black, give off an evil vibe. It’s like he’s a snake, slithering his way into the hearts of old men, convincing them to do terrible things to their sons.

It’s hard to believe that my father, as awful as he’s being to me right now, is related to this guy.

“Listen here, To-Let—”

“I’d use that finger to sign those papers, Achilles.” Alijah raises an eyebrow and points to the documents spread out in front of me, his words slipping out like a snake’s hiss.

“Looks like Daddy found your weak spot.”

“I swear I’ll put an arrow through your head—”

“Zavyar.”

“—If you say a word about this outside this room.” Ignoring my dad’s warning, I slam my fist on the desk, making it shake. “I mean it, Alijah. Not a word or I’ll rearrange your face.”

“Sure, sure.” Alijah rolls his eyes. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

Smug bastard.

I glance at my useless brother and my worthless best friend. One is staring out at the pool through the window, and the other is pretending to read a book.

Neither of them are trying to talk my dad out of ruining my life. And here I thought they cared about me.

I scoff. “With friends like these.”

“What’s that?” Adam turns away from the window and blinks.

Colin closes the book he’s been not reading and looks up. “Why the long face, Zav?”

“You.” I glare at each person in the room—from my dad to Adam to Colin, and even Alijah—and scowl. “All of you want to tie me down.”

“A bull,” Colin says, sliding the book back onto the shelf. “A good-looking one, of course.”

“Shiny coat, sharp horns,” Adam adds. “Always seeing red.”

“You think a bull like that should be left in charge of a bank?” Alijah rests his chin on his hand and pretends to think.

“Definitely not without a leash. No.” Adam shakes his head.

“Especially if it has horn caps.” Colin points to his head.

Meanwhile, my dad is watching me.

He leans forward in his chair and smiles. It’s the happiest I’ve seen him since he beat his competitors and made it onto Forbes’s list of the world’s richest assholes.

“Sign the papers, son,” he says.

Alijah’s face splits into a wicked smile. Adam and Colin can’t hide their smirks either. They’re all enjoying my misery, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Anger flares up as I realize what’s happening, but then my shoulders slump.

There’s nothing I can do.

If I don’t want to be disowned and lose my rightful place in the bank, along with all the perks and future opportunities, to To-Let over there, I have to swallow this bitter pill.

I have to sign.

“Oh, and you’ll wear a wedding ring,” my dad says.

I stop signing and glare at him. “That’s not in the contract.”

“It’s my dying wish.”

“Dad.”

“Come on. I love wedding rings.”

“We don’t do wedding rings. It’s not our tradition.”

“I wear mine,” Colin says, holding up his hand to show off his gold band.

“Where are you from, Colin? No, like, where are you really from?”

“Oh no, brother, that’s racist,” Adam says, deadpan.

Colin puts a hand over his heart. “That hurt, Zavy.”

Traitors. All of them.

“Don’t call me Zavy.”

“But I want you to wear a wedding ring.” My dad’s smile turns dark.

Fine.

I groan, and with one final stroke of the pen, I sign away my right to choose my own partner and agree to marry the ice queen my father has chosen for me.

All so I can have access to my money, ~my~ future.

“Happy?” I put the cap back on the pen and toss it onto the desk. “This is a violation of human rights, and you’re all guilty.”

“Remind me again why marrying this woman is such a bad idea?” Alijah’s lazy voice grates on my nerves.

“None of your business, To-Let.” My smile is so fake it could cut glass.

“No, really…” He walks around the desk and settles into the chair I was supposed to be sitting in, his fingers forming a pyramid in front of his chest.

“Is she unbearably ugly? Or poor? Some elites were hit hard after the colonization and had to live hand to mouth.”

“She’s a Faramin.”

Alijah’s eyes go wide, his lips forming a perfect O as he nods slowly, understanding dawning on him. Her family name says more than any other words could.

“Tough break for you.” He turns to me, his face as somber as if we were at a funeral. “A real-life princess? That’s got to be rough.”

I’m about to agree, but something in his expression makes me pause and furrow my brows. “What?”

“No, no, I get it.” He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Being with someone as high-class as her is enough to scare the hell out of you. I’d be terrified too if I was marrying that far up the ladder.”

Wait, what?

While I’m too stunned to respond, Adam and Colin start to chuckle. Dad’s got his nose buried in a business magazine, not giving a damn about me now that the papers are signed.

“Marrying up?” is all I manage to get out.

“Way up.” Colin leans against the desk behind Alijah’s chair. “Royal blood. Beauty and brains.”

“And a career.” Adam adds, lounging on the window bench with his elbows on his knees and his gaze on me. “Top-notch education and manners and reputation.”

“Really?” Alijah furrows his brow and gives me a quick once-over. “I’d say the girl is selling herself short.”

“Way short,” Colin and Adam echo together.

Dad just calmly turns a page and keeps reading.

I scowl at them all. “Her Highness can say no if it’s that much of a hardship.”

Dad looks up this time and smiles. “But you can’t.”

But she can.

I sit up straighter and cross my arms over my chest. There’s no point in arguing now, and no peaceful way out of it.

I’ve already signed the contract, giving up my right to say no to this arranged marriage. But the princess, if she sees all my flaws, might still refuse.

She might even be convinced to walk away even after the vows are said. She has to.

I’ll make sure she does.