Page 1 of Til Death
Prologue
Yosiah Bedford (Age 29)
I bit the inside of my cheek as my hands clenched tightly. My short nails dug into my palms and my eyes focused on my dad pacing back and forth in front of me. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife. The office was silent outside of the sound of the clock ticking on the wall.
Finally, after a few minutes, he stopped and turned to face me with a defeated expression on his face. “I know this is a lot to ask of you but…”
“But nothing.” I cut him off hastily. My brows met in the middle in a deep frown and my lips thinned. I had to remind myself that this was my father, the man who’d raised me, who I’d admired my whole life, who kept food on the table and showed me what it meant to be areal man.The more I stared at him, the harder it became to keep my temper at bay. My dad started graying some in his beard and hair over the years, but he wore it well. Currently he looked as if he had aged at least ten years.
“You know I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice.” His voice was strained. My eyes went to the twitching muscle in his jaw.
“Most fathers want their kid to go to college and make something of themselves, stay off drugs, hell, even follow in their footsteps.” I paused and rolled my shoulders back before straightening my spine. “What you’re asking me…”
“Is unorthodox.”
“Complete bullshit.”
His mouth turned upside down.
“Yosiah.”
I dragged my hand down my face and pushed out a heavy breath. “Things are that bad?”
Dad didn’t reply right away. He walked back toward where I was sitting and around to his desk chair. Taking a seat, his shoulders fell forward and his hands clasped on his desk. He looked like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.” His dark eyes were outlined with crow’s feet. He looked tired.
Again I clenched my jaw, this time shifting my eyes away and staring at an art piece my mother had bought him to “give the place some charm” as she put it.
“Maybe if you meet her you wouldn’t feel so conflicted.” My eyes snapped back to his. They cut into tight slits.
“I don’t need to know her to know marrying her is the last thing I want. What kind of damn parent would even offer that as a solution to a problem?”
My dad owned a successful real estate development company that had given me, him, and my mom a cushy life over the years. We weren’t overwhelmed with endless cash, but we were far from middle class. I was still trying to understand how this could have happened. My dad was a great businessman. He knew the real estate market and excelled at it. Being in this position was completely out of character for him. Dad handled real estate all over the city and had built a reputable reputation. So to know he’d gotten himself in this much trouble was mind boggling.
“Phillip Fox is a man you don’t try to figure out. Most people in his sight don’t even get this chance.”
Sighing, I leaned back in the chair and gapped my legs wider. My tongue swiped across my lips as I pondered my next move.
Phillip Fox of Fox Corporation. I didn’t know much about him currently but that would change by the end of the day. What I did know was that he had made his name by mass producing hostile takeovers of failing businesses around the city and converting them into profits for himself.
Most people tried to stay on his good side in fear that he would ruin them. He owned a lot of the city, which made him seem untouchable. But in reality everyone had a weakness, you just had to know where to look.
“Why don’t you take some time and think about it? Maybe meet her and?—”
I cut him off. “I don’t need to meet her.”
Xylina Fox, Phillip’s daughter, was a known party girl. She often was photographed partying and moving around as if she had no cares in the world. From what I’d read about her, she was the typical spoiled rich girl who didn’t know what the word no meant, never had to work for anything, and was raised to believe everyone was to bow down to her.
Feeling a headache growing, I ran my hand down my face then stood. “I got some things I need to take care of.”
“Yosiah, please, at least think about it.”
I blinked slowly. “When do you have to give an answer?”
“By the end of the week.”
My jaw clenched. It was Wednesday, which only gave me four days.
