AARON WALLACE'S POV

I started playing golf at the young age of four, mastering the putting while playing among my cousins. When you are raised in a family where it's a traditional game for generations, golf becomes more than just a sport; it's how we gamble, how we agree, and even how we disagree. It's hard to beat everyone, so if you don't like losing, like me, you have to perfect your game.

"Bloody hell, there it is." Raphael's daughter said disappointedly as we arrived at the next hole and found Dad's and my ball perfectly landed in the fairway. "They really are good," the other sister mumbled to her, but I heard. I looked back and nodded in agreement; they had lost their ball and had to go back to the previous shot among the three families.

"Aren't you too pompous?" the first sister called out, tailing behind me and Dad as I collected a club from Keenan.

"What can I do?"

"Oh my goodness." She gasped, looking away as I adjusted my sunglasses on my nose.

"Take your shot, Wallaces," Shaun Hebrew anxiously implied. He was competitive among the rest of the opponents, not even giving his daughters a chance to play. They looked depressed beside him but managed a smile from time to time when we made eye contact.

"Do not worry, Hebrew. You are losing today," Dad joked, though he sounded displeased, as he hated when his dominance was questioned. He leaned into my ear, squeezing my shoulder as I made aim for a shot. "Take a breath and take the win now."

Just as I said. He's had enough of Hebrew's big bragging mouth. Good for me; I am on the edge, needing to get out of here and this polo shirt.

Grabbing the club, I mentally processed the three-hundred-yard distance, not taking my eyes off the ball before making the strike. The ball took flight, following the accurate pathway to the hole we agreed was the win.

As a habit, I mentally tracked the ball's journey as gravity carried it. I listened as it landed in the far distance, rolling across the green at a well-paced speed, slowing, and—boom!

"Aced!" I pushed back my sunglasses and handed the club back to Keenan. Dad wore a proud smile while almost everyone else struggled with disbelief. It is understandable, given they have no view of the ball so how will they believe, yet?

"Impossible!" Hebrew chuckled, unnerved.

"Want to go check for yourself?" Dad motioned at the carts and waved over his PR, Russell, from our cart to proceed with the coaching.

"Definitely," Hebrew nodded, rushing to leave.

Raphael's older daughter chewed back a smile. "Smug," she bit her lip while they followed their father to their carts.

"Russell, please proceed," Dad contentedly instructed when we were alone.

Exhausted, I took off my hat, ran my fingers through my hair, and put it back on. "Can we go back to the clubhouse and resume there?"

"There is no time to waste. Your flight is in an hour. The moment you land, you will stand up to the media and right your wrongs," Dad accentuated, my jaw tightening as I glared at him. "Russell, proceed," he ordered firmly.

"Mister Aaron Wallace, we will only go over it a few times," Russell said politely while abiding by Dad's orders at the same time.

"What has been seen and associated with my name in the past few days has been nothing but in relation to me—uhmm—"

Dad, with little patience, scoffed and took off his hat, rubbing his face frustratedly. "There will be no stammering. You will make it sound believable like you've always done."

There is discomfort from the tension in my muscles. Massaging the flanks of my neck, I tilted my head side to side, not that it helped with the stiffness.

The self-restraint holding me from speaking back to him was the thought of Lively's safety because when you get to learn how power works, you'll know it has never been a highway of clean business. I know how rivalrous my family is when it comes down to being the house that wows Grandpa the most, I don't know how dangerous they can be with innately possessed ability to blend in as the most harmless beings, for instance, jellyfish, known for its transparency in nature, it's hard to tell it proximity or a horrific intention coming from it, but it carries tentacles containing venomous cells, its sting is fatal to humans. I know my family could go to any length for the purpose of winning, and if my parents believe their access to achieving that is getting me stuck in an advantageous marriage then if you asked me should they be feared? I will tell you, yes, they could be fatal. It is up to me to protect Lively. If something happened to her because of me—the thought alone felt like lava rope strangling me, I couldn't bring myself to finish.

"You should know by now it is not in my family's reputation to bring any scandalous—" I tried again, but it was not working out any better. I blanked out. I can't focus, knowing this is all a lie. I will not stand before the reporters and deny my feelings.

"Scandalous distraction whilst at the projection of a new era that I will be representing," Russell rectified from where I stopped, and I nodded my brows.

"This is not a joke," Dad gritted.

"Don't you think I know that? I am not laughing," I retorted irritably. "I am just drained from possibly having to multitask, Dad. You want me present here to entertain your 'GUEST' and at the same time want me to memorize a speech in preparation for my public appearance tonight." It's hard to concentrate. It's all overwhelming. My breathing was shallow after yelling in annoyance.

"And take it as an honor that I am helping you clean up your mess." He responded equally furiously in my face. I couldn't look at him. I slightly stared into the distance, grinding my teeth to hold back my tongue. Tragically, this is what we've become. "All of this is for your benefit, Aaron." He cursed under his breath and finally gave me my space, pacing around while I remained frozen, struggling to be in charge of my words and fists. "We have good investors who see your passion in aeronautical study, and today you will be the first Wallace to hone your craft in our solo designs aircraft and test them. This isn't about designing jewelry, the art of paintings, or new brands of textiles. You will make your grandfather proud. You will stand out among the grandchildren. You will be the best, and our lineage will take the lead in the four houses. I am here to make sure you achieve that."

Wow.

My throat had dried up. His shocking words were sharp enough to punch a hole in me. I staggered back. I had no words to argue against the aggressive and antagonistic images his mind was made up of. He might be my father, but we do not stand for the same thing.

"Sorry to disappoint your greatest strategy since my birth, Dad, but I am not competing with my cousins."

"Do not be naive. This is a family race." His eyes were wide with rage at my disagreement. "Do you think if they were allowed to take your spot they wouldn't? Mason and Dane have already been in office. Why do you think so? It's all in their strategies to generate something. But your mother and I have prepared you. Your delay will be worth it the moment your designs make headlines tomorrow. You will find a wife from an honorable house and build a solid foundation for the first great-grandchild of Thomas Wallace. Those girls are nothing less than what you deserve. Luckily for you, they all fancy you. Choose, Aaron."

It is funny how even when I am offered a choice, the options are within confined borders, already specified by his preference.

"You said it yourself. I am about to make a notable impression with my designs. Why do I need anyone for more reputation? When will it be enough for you? How much work do I have to put in?" My voice was gruff and scratchy. There is a lump in my throat choking me.

Keenan and Russell had their heads bowed by the cart, waiting.

"That girl is not in our norm. Bring her to it; she'd be running away by herself. She doesn't understand this type of world. She will only bring disgrace to us and heartbreak to you. You are too young to comprehend all these integral life principles, and I will not let you make that reckless decision while at it. You will end that story and let me not ever hear about a truck of toys at her home from you."

Wait, what?

Breathing out, I spun around, trying the neck-rubbing and tilting thing again, but it only worsened the pain along with the intensely tormenting headache.

"We had an agreement. You were to stay away from her, and she will keep her individual rights," he spoke up behind me.

"I did not see her," I admitted, rubbing my face. Not that it was because I was obedient to their instruction. Their threats were the last thing I could worry about while I was collecting the strength to confront her.

"For one, there were papers and articles about you outside a hospital with a mystery woman. Then you send out abundant gifts, leading her to believe she stands a chance with you. Do not tell me that a man who sits on a bench writing down tracking shipment numbers all day can buy out a whole toy store when he can't even look after his family. His wife has to work all night."

"Uhm—good morning, sir." Upon hearing the delicate, cracking voice, my eyes closed painfully. "Is there anything you want?"

Fucking hell!

I turned and saw her. She was wearing a different uniform today. Her head was down, avoiding eye contact. She'd heard everything. He probably saw her coming when he started it. He wanted her to hear his cruel idea of her so she'd make the decision herself.

"Actually, yes. Is there a napkin with you?" I heard him say while my brain was processing everything, including her suspicious silence.

She hates me.

"Yes, sir." She nodded her head and turned to the cart to grab whatever Dad asked for.

When she returned, she was holding a mini white towel and a bottle of water, which Dad collected. She tucked back her hair and wouldn't look at me, and I was sure she knew it was all I wanted.

"Stepped on something, do you mind cleaning them for me?" Dad, in wicked politeness, ordered the degrading demand, gesturing at his shoe.

Something pounded in my brain as it thudded in my chest with a reverberating ache. This time, her eyes mirrored mine; she wanted me to see how my family could only value her. She wanted me to see the fracturing grief in her glassy, woeful gaze reflecting deeper into her soul-crushing agony instilled by my family. She held back her tears and composure by chewing her inner cheeks, and she lowered down to my father's feet.

No!

I looked over at him with an uncontrollable, vehement glare. Fury, pain, guilt, all gutting. He was punishing me. The picture is a horror I would live with—he wanted me to live with.

I lurched at her, removing her from there before she could start and bringing her to my side where she belonged. "She is not your servant. She is my fiancée, Dad. Fucking back off."

Something gleamed in his eyes. I know that look. He's about to do something even more outrageous.

"Liv, come with me." I begged, pulling her gently with me but he firmly called, "Russell, please read out my son's speech so he memorizes it perfectly for the press."

He really will go down that road?

"Yes, Mister Wallace." Russell's eyes skimmed through the papers in his hands and he read out as ordered. After all, he was only doing his job. "What has been seen and associated with my name in the few days has been nothing in relation with me. I was at the hospital solely to see a doctor for my recent scarcity of sleep in preparation for my takeover of office. You should know by now it is not in my family's reputation to bring any scandalous distraction whilst at the projection of a new era that I will be representing tomorrow morning. I do not know who or have any relationship with this woman who's being connected with my name."

Lively pulled her hand from mine and pain stretched in every fiber of my being. I didn't have to look to know Dad had won.

"I mean, add two and two together. It will make sense." Dad leisurely tells her, basking in my emotions as I hatefully watch him. The carts arrive then amid everything.

The Hebrews and Raphaels came down chatting and laughing.

"Well, it was an ace after all." Hebrew held up the ball.

"Of course, never doubt the charming proficiency of Aaron Wallace in everything he does." Dad complacently responded, smiling proudly at me, "When one lucky daughter of yours gets him as a husband, you will see the outstandness I talk of." The old men laughed.

Seriously?