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DEFYING DESTINY




Both men escort me straight into Harry's office without stopping at his assistant's desk or knocking on the door. I find it incredibly odd how they don't feel the need to knock first. Isn't that common courtesy?

When I step in, they don't follow, but close the double door behind me. I let my eyes roam the room. I've been so curious about Harry's office, eager to know more about him and I've read somewhere that an office can tell a lot about someone's personality. As I do, I hope the article was wrong.

It looks like a hurricane has raged through the office, papers litter the floor, the chairs in front of the desk are turned over, a laptop has a strange blinking blue screen with a massive star shaped hole in the middle, I wonder what has happened to it. When my eyes finally land on Harry, I grow even more weary, he sits earily quiet, behind his desk, his elbows leaning on the cleared surface, his fingers touching the according finger of the other hand. He taps his hands against his chin in a slow, steady rhythm and I know instantly how bad the situation is. I may not know Harry well and I certainly don't know what's going on, but I know I should thread carefully.

Harry watches me as I'm still at the door, trying to take the situation in, trying to figure out why I'm here.

"Rose."

He speaks all of a sudden, startling me out of my daze. I nod in acknowledgement. He stops tapping his chin and gestures a hand at me, to take a seat. Uhm and where should I sit? I don't ask my question of course, I fear that would be suicide.

So I walk over to one of the chairs and turn it over. Thankfully, they are normal chairs, and not those comfortable, but heavy, club kind of chairs. I sit down on the edge, so I can easily stand up and run if Hurricane Harry decides to make an appearance.

He stays quiet, getting on my nerves. He has brought me here, has practically abducted me from my home and now he isn't going to even talk? But I stay quiet too, I'm too afraid to stand up for myself.

So we sit, staring at each other, him looking me over as if he's... inspecting me? Until he finally breaks the silence:

"I'm being deported back to the UK."

Okay? I don't respond, thinking he'll go on, but clearly he isn't feeling very chatty today.

"I'm very sad to hear that, mr. Styles." What else can I say? I still don't understand why I'm here.

"I thought I'd told you to call me Harry? You'll have to get used to it anyhow."

Now I'm confused. Why will I have to get used to it, I have no intention of spending time with him anymore. I'm pretty sure I'm over my little schoolgirl crush.

"How come?" I ask, when he doesn't elaborate.

"Well, I can't have my wife calling me by my last name, can I?"

"No, of course not." I answer too quickly, without fully understanding, until I think over what he said. "Wait, what?"

My response is sincere, unfiltered and I regret the slip-up. Harry's like a loose cannon right now and I fear setting him off.

"You will get married to me, so I can have the American citizenship and won't get deported."

"Harry, I -"

"If you don't agree, Roan won't have a job anymore, as will a couple hundred others, you wouldn't want that, would you?"

I stay silent, we both know it isn't simply about Roan's job, he's threatening his life.

"So what do you say?" he continues, a dangerous smirk on his face.

"Yes?" I answer, the sound resonating in my head, bouncing off the walls like a terrible echo. Have I just agreed to a contract with the devil?

"Great."

I stop looking at him, his smirk is sickening. I can't believe how I ever felt infatuated with him, he's pure evil and utterly terrifying. I play with my hands, picking at my nails, not knowing what's expected of me, except be his get out of jail free card.

When Harry snaps his fingers close to my face to gain my attention, I look up.

"We'll get married tonight in an intimate circle of our closest family and friends. You can invite anyone you'd like, I just need their names."

Tonight?

I shake my head, there's no one I want to invite.

"Just Roan, please." I answer in a small voice.

He shakes his head at me, disappointment lacing his features.

"Come on love, getting married is supposed to be the happiest day of your life."

You're delusional, I want to say, or, 'yeah, if it's with the person you love with your entire heart.'

Instead, I stay silent, like I always do.

"So, you'll obviously wear a white dress, do you have one, or do you need my credit card to go buy one? A driver will pick you up at seven and drive you to the location.."

I look at him, he's telling me things like all I need to do is simply show up, as if I'm not entitled to my own opinion. I realize that's how my future is going to be. I'm going to be a chess piece in his games, a nuisance but a necessary step to accomplish his plans. 

He's still going on about the wedding and I'm not even listening anymore, this feels so surreal, I'm nineteen, a high school graduate, I shouldn't be getting married yet, but here I am, and I haven't even had a say in the matter. 

Next thing I know, he's snapping his fingers in front of my face to draw my attention. I raise my eyebrows at him.

"I've called for Roan to come up, you can tell him the good news and have the day to prepare yourself, get a manicure, get your hair done up, whatever you want."

Why does he have to make me feel inferior every time he opens his mouth? Instead, I nod. He smiles at me, he's clearly pleased with my response and hands me a black credit card. Swell, clearly illegal businesses yield great profits. I hold the card in my hand, it feels heavy, like it could burn a whole right through my fingers.

"Thanks." I mutter, turning when I hear a knock on the door.

"Come in." Harry's voice rings from behind me.

"Mr. Styles, you wanted to see me?" Roan steps in, but when his eyes land on me, he stills in front of the door. "Rosie? Why are you here? What's going on.." His eyes flicker back and forth between us until Harry speaks.

"Good news, mate, we're getting married."

"What? This is bùllshít." 

"Roan.." I interfere, he shouldn't be doing this. I walk over to him and put my palm on his chest.

He tries to push past me, but I push back a little and he's too great of a guy to hurt me, so he stays put.

"I don't understand, Rosie, he doesn't love you, why can't you see that? Why do you allow him to play games with you like that?"

"I know, Roan, love doesn't have anything to do with it." I say softly, just above a whisper.

"What?" he whispers back, acting like we're the only two people in the room.

"I'll tell you later, when we're alone. Harry wants us to go prepare for the wedding, and seeing as I have no close girl friends, you'll have to be my maid of honor and take me everywhere I need to be this afternoon."

I look back at Harry, who's looking pleased. I look back at Roan and try to put on a happy face.

"First up, dress shopping."

Roan groans and I swear I hear Harry chuckle, but when I look at him, he's not showing a single hint of emotion. 

"Alright, let's go then." I say, linking my arm with Roan and pulling him to leave Harry's office, but not before Harry's voice calls out to me.

"See you tonight, sweetheart."


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Yaay! Important part of the story! What do you think of Harry? 


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