My Father Married Me Off for Profit

From the moment Emmie Stewart received Finley Thomas's call, she couldn't shake a sense of unease. Claiming fatigue, she politely excused herself from the Hamilton family's first dinner together.

Luckily, her room was on the ground floor. Carefully, she opened the window and climbed out, relieved that her departure went unnoticed. Passing by the living room window, she overheard Scarlett Hamilton grumbling, "That Emmie girl is getting way too bold, no respect for me as the lady of the house. Honestly, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn't put up with this."

Kairi Hamilton joined in, equally frustrated, "Exactly! I don't believe she's truly tired. Dad, Emmie doesn't respect us at all."

"Alright, alright, let's not get worked up about an outsider. She’s not dining with us, so you don't have to see her. Calm down, my dear wife and daughter," soothed Arthur Hamilton.

Emmie, crouching beneath the window, felt a sharp pang at Arthur's words. Her eyes moistened, her brow creased, and she bit her lip until it blanched. It took her a moment to pull herself together and dash off, finally relaxing once she was in a cab. She asked the driver to keep the backseat dark, unafraid to let her vulnerability show in the shadows.

Arriving at O'Malley’s Pub—the place Finley had mentioned—she masked her sadness with a bright smile. In the dim light, she searched for the man whose actions had left her feeling unguarded. His sudden closeness caught her off guard; his words echoed in her mind: what did he mean by risking his relationship with his brother Kolson? Was he trying to take advantage of her?

Trying to read his expression, she only saw his relaxed, handsome features. His loose shirt hung off one shoulder, revealing a glimpse of pale skin that briefly captivated her.

Noticing her gaze on his exposed shoulder, Finley understood her bewilderment and stood still, letting her look. With a teasing smile, he said, "What's wrong? Can't wait any longer? Care to change the scenery?" His words snapped her back to reality, making her blush and frantically wave her hands, "No need, this is fine."

"Wasting no time, are you? Eager to see me again after sharing my bed?"

As Finley leaned closer, wrapping an arm around her, Emmie felt a shiver of discomfort. She stood up and moved to a different seat, giving him a cold stare. "How do you know I used to dance at a club?"

"A friend who apparently admires you has photos of your performances," Finley said, his eyes appraising her with interest. "Who knew you had such talent?"

"Planning to tell Kolson or Martin?" Emmie smirked, sensing no compliment in his words.

“No, no, no,” he replied.

His repeated denials only heightened her curiosity about his true intentions. Did he plan to use this against her? She knew better than to trust anyone who seemed benign.

"So... what's your game plan?"

Instead of answering, Finley adjusted his clothes, took her hand, and led her outside the bar. To her surprise, he hopped onto a sleek motorcycle parked outside, motioning for her to join him. Reluctantly, she gripped the back handles tightly.

Seeing her tense expression in the mirror, Finley smirked mischievously. He revved the engine, and before she could brace herself, the motorcycle sped off like a bullet.

The wind whipped against her face, forcing her eyes shut. Clinging on, she tried not to lose her balance as the motorcycle hurtled onward.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally came to a stop. Emmie opened her eyes, tried to speak, but instead succumbed to nausea. She hurried to the roadside, leaning over the railing to calm her unsettled stomach.

Once she regained her composure, she wiped her mouth and asked, "Where are we? What's the plan here?"

Finley, unfazed by the biting air, looked at her with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “You’re the most boring woman I’ve ever met!”

What? Had she heard him correctly? He called her boring—meanwhile, he was the one dragging her to this desolate spot. Determined to steer clear of him after marrying Kolson, Emmie resolved to avoid this troublesome future brother-in-law.

"Fine, I admit I'm boring. I'm heading back."

His expression softened unexpectedly, his smile reappearing as he adjusted his tousled hair. “Ask me nicely to take you back.”

Emmie shot him a glare, stepping onto the road to flag down a passing car. She'd had enough of talking to him. Finley was nothing but an irrational troublemaker!

“Come on, beg me! Otherwise, I’ll leave you here,” he taunted, arms crossed, watching with amusement as she tried to catch a ride. His chest burned with inexplicable anger as she ignored him, so he revved up the bike and drove off.

Emmie stomped in frustration. No cars stopped, and she had no idea which direction to go, let alone how to get back to the Hamiltons.

“Finley Thomas, you jerk! No, king of the idiots!” she fumed.

Before she could finish her rant, a voice came from behind. "You dare insult me! Do you really think I won't tell Kolson that you danced at a club, provocative enough to catch any man's eye?"

“Where did you come from?” Emmie clutched her chest, startled. She’d seen him leave, yet here he was, sneaking up on her.

“Right behind you!” Finley grumbled, pulling her back onto the flashy yet breezy motorcycle, insisting she hold onto his waist this time.

“I can hold onto the back,” Emmie protested, feeling awkward, considering he was her soon-to-be brother-in-law.

“With all your secrets, you don’t want Kolson finding out, so you better listen to me.”

“I danced in a club; Kolson could find that out himself,” Emmie worried about her future. Would Martin and Kolson still accept her if they knew she had danced in clubs?

Seeing her anxiety, Finley lightly patted her shoulder, "You've done more than just dance. You’ve also been in my bed, met me at night, and now you’re riding my bike, holding me."

“You forced me to!”

Emmie shouted at the back of his head, incredulous at how this mischievous brother-in-law managed to ensnare her. Despite considering herself clever, she couldn’t believe her run of bad luck.