“I hope you will find everything you need, but please let me know if there is anything that has been overlooked.
“I will give you a tour of the property, but first, your father has been waiting patiently and he is most excited to see you so I’ll take you to him now and we can sort everything else out later.”
Unable to put together a coherent sentence I simply nod dumbly to Thomas who directs me through a doorway behind the stairs that I hadn’t noticed on my initial inspection.
The doorway opens into a corridor which has several rooms leading off it, the doors of which are all closed. Thomas points out each room as we walk by, informing me that they are bedrooms and meeting rooms. One room is even a home theatre.
Approaching the far end of the corridor, Thomas stops outside yet another closed wooden door. Instead of telling me what this room is though, he knocks on the door, giving me a reassuring smile as a gruff voice, presumably belonging to my father, barks out for us to enter.
My head is about to explode with the realization that I am about to meet my father. This moment feels so surreal. Hell, this whole journey has been so outlandish. Part of me keeps expecting to wake up in my bed, back at home, and discover this has all been some strange dream. I pinch the soft inner skin of my forearm just to be sure; nope, this is definitely real.
Chapter 4
Standing outside my father's office, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and try to take deep breaths. This has all happened so quickly; my brain hasn't fully caught up with everything.
Before I feel ready, not that I think there would ever be enough time to prepare myself to meet my father, face-to-face, for the first time, Thomas opens the door and ushers me into the room.
Too scared to look at my father immediately, I instead take in the room, the style of which is in keeping with the rest of the house. The walls are lined with paintings and numerous bookcases, filled neatly with books and other artefacts. There is a large fireplace with a roaring fire in it, even though it's only September and the weather isn’t nearly cold enough outside for a fire yet. In front of the ornate fireplace are two sofas where people could sit comfortably and read books, or entertain business guests.
On the other side of the room is a large, elaborate desk. On my side of the desk are two armchairs intended for visitors to use, while, on the other side, sits a tall, intimidating man. This must be my father.
Casting my eyes over what I can see of my father, I can see that he is strong and athletic-looking with broad shoulders. He clearly values his looks as he's well-groomed with a professionally styled, close-shaved beard and dark hair, perfectly styled back, and manicured nails.
The man hasn’t bothered to glance up at our arrival, not acknowledging us until Thomas announces my presence. “Sir, Miss Sophie has arrived”.
“Yes, yes, Thomas, leave us to it.” The man ushers, dismissing Thomas, still without raising his eyes from the document he is reading.
It is only once Thomas has left us alone that the man slowly, carefully, places the paper down on his desk, lifting his eyes to take me in. Now that he is looking directly at me and I can see his face, I realise he looks nothing like me. In fact, other than his dark hair, which is a similar shade to my own, he’s the complete opposite of me, with his tanned skin to my pale complexion, his eyes, which are a very dark brown, almost black, give him a dark, menacing presence; whereas mine are a pale stormy blue, like my mother’s. His nose is wider than mine and he’s got a hard-angular jaw. All in all, it paints a picture of a domineering man who gets what he wants. He’s not the type that anyone says ‘no’ to, at least, not without incurring his wrath.
While I’ve been studying him, he has been doing the same to me, and it doesn’t take long to realise that I mustn’t meet his expectations. The pinching of his lips and narrowing of his eyebrows tell me he isn’t impressed by what he sees. His eyes glance from me to the empty chair in front of his desk as he gives a quick nod of his head, telling me to sit without words.
He continues to take me in as I cross the room and sit in the chair as directed. He doesn’t break eye contact and it’s definitely intimidating.
“You look a lot like your mother,” he finally states, still assessing me, looking for weaknesses. “We will have to fix your appearance though. I can’t have you running around looking like a deranged homeless person.”
His caustic remark gets my back up. Does he not know the life my mother and I led? We don’t all have buckets of money lying around to spend on a whim. Besides, I may not look my best right now, but I definitely do not look deranged!
“You don’t suffer from your mothers…afflictions, do you?” He questions snidely, looking at me intently, as though he could see the mental health problems written on my skin.
“Eh, no. Not that I’m aware of,” I reply, confused as to why it matters.
“Good. That wouldn’t reflect well on me.”
Ah, so that’s why. I’ve only met the guy, but I already have all the information I need to know. One thing is for sure, we are not going to get along.
“Now that you are a Montgomery, certain standards will be expected of you. Every time you leave this house you will be representing the Montgomery family, and as such you will be polite and well-mannered at all times. I can’t have you drawing unwanted attention or causing trouble.
“You will also be expected to make an effort to fit in here, to ingratiate yourself with the people of Crescentwood and get to know the other kids you go to school with. You never know how the people you develop relationships with now could be of benefit to you later down the road."
Of course, everything with this guy is about image and what other people can do for him. I hope not all rich people have the same outlook or I’m not going to find any common ground with anyone here.
“The residents of this town could take my…business to new heights. I am in the middle of making important negotiations here, and if you interfere with that there will be serious consequences. Do you understand me?”
Trying to be civil and not get us off on the wrong foot right away, I open my mouth to tell him I’ve no intention of messing with his business plans, but instead out blurts, “Look, I didn't ask to come here, I'm more than happy to go home -” I blurt.
Oops.
That was not what I meant to say at all. Guess I never really was one to bow down and take other people’s shit.
Slamming his hand on the table, cheeks reddening in anger, Robert interrupts me, snarling as the beast inside him rises to the surface, showing me his true self. “Did you not just listen to a damn word I said, girl?! You will do as you are told. You are only here because I was nice enough to rescue you from that cesspit you called a home. While you live under my roof you will wear what you are told to wear, talk when you are told to talk, and behave as you are told to behave. Nothing should come out of that mouth of yours other than ‘Yes sir’. Do you hear me?”
I just about manage to get “Yes, sir” spat out through my gritted teeth. Is this guy for fucking real? If I was unsure before, it is 100% clear now that this is no long-lost, loving, father-daughter reunion. Why am I even here? It sure as hell isn’t because he just found out he had a daughter and wants to get to know her.