Hillwood, November 2009

"This is the third car you've totalled!" Buckley Lloyd roared. Rhonda watched the vein throbbing in his forehead. In her slightly drunken haze, everything that was happening was extremely funny. "You cannot keep going with this destructive behaviour!"

Beside him, her mother was watching Rhonda with disappointed eyes. They were having the confrontation in one of the manor's parlour rooms. The one with all the red and satin. As much as she loved red, Rhonda hated this room. It was excessive and quite frankly, vulgar. Her mother loved it though and have not re-decorated it in years. Tonight, she wanted to burn it. The thought of it going up in flames was hilarious.

She giggled. Her father almost blew up.

"What is so goddamned funny? A DUI is no laughing matter, Rhonda. God, you could have killed people tonight!"

Even in her state, she knew that. And that was the most shameful of all. Not the part where she was dragged on the back of a police car or when she was giving her fingerprints at the station. It was the guilt. The thought that her irresponsibility could have cost someone's life.

"It's not funny, sir," she replied.

He hated it when she called him that. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he sighed. It was three thirty in the morning and her parents looked extremely tired. This time, it was her mother that spoke up.

"What's going on, Rhonda?"

Her tone had been soft, motherly. So unlike her. Rhonda's tongue felt numb against the roof of her mouth and the urge to vomit had not fully gone away even if she already did it twice at the station.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," she snapped.

Brooke threw her hands up. "Unbelievable. Of course, it doesn't concern us. It's only our daughter who could end up in jail and our property that's destroyed. None of our concern at all."

Rhonda's jaw was set. "Look, I've learnt my lesson tonight. Alright? I'll be paying for it in the next few months. So, once again, please leave me alone."

Her parents shot each other glances. The ones they did when they were communicating just with their eyes. A talent older couples possessed. Buckley cocked his head. Brooke nodded. "Your father and I have been talking…"

Rhonda waited. They were going to mete out the punishment.

"All this irresponsibility, this rash and reckless behaviour, we think it's about time you get settled."

Settled?

"What? What do you mean settled?"

Dread invaded her whole being.

"Settled. Married. We think it will bring you some stability if someone's looking out for you," Buckley explained.

Rhonda shot up to her full height. "Are you insane? Have you both finally gone nuts? I'm not getting married!"

Brooke shook her head. "We're serious. We want you to find a husband before your 24th birthday. You can choose him yourself."

Her throat clogged up. They couldn't do this. Except they can. Her behaviour had been repulsive lately. Her alcoholism that begun in the sophomore year of college had spiralled out of control. The car accident was the last straw. It wasn't her fault. Honest. If only he'd stopped dating so many… No. Her reaction to Thaddeus Gammelthorpe's busy love life was her own mess. Self-destruction had become her specialty and it was time to wake up.

"You have a year. That's plenty of time," Buckley offered.

"This is extremely offensive and sexist," she huffed. "You wouldn't do this if you had a son."

Her mother gave her a chilling glare and with a lift of an eyebrow said, "We don't care."

"This is bullshit," she breathed.

"It's a reasonable request. As long as that someone is a stable man who will provide for you, he is eligible," her mother replied.

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't stand to be around these two clowns who used to be her parents.

"What happens if I don't marry?" she challenged.

Buckley's scowled deepened. "You can kiss our money goodbye, dear. Prepare to be on your own. You'll finally have that independence you crave."

Without her parents' money, what would she do? Rhonda Lloyd was an heiress. That's what people called her. That's what they knew her as. It was who she is. They were cruel to do this. Rip her of her own identity. Her life of luxury stripped from her. She remembered the horrible time in fourth grade when they had gone bankrupt and thought never again. She had to swallow her pride. No matter the cost. "Alright," she rasped.

Brooke's eyes widened in disbelief. "So, you agree to our terms?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Rhonda wanted to cry. Who would want to marry her in this state? The one who sprang to mind was too busy being a bachelor and her best friend. He was the reason why she was in this mess in the first place. And she wouldn't… couldn't ask him to marry her. Not for this. If he was to marry her, she wanted him to ask. Because he loved her. Not because of money.

"If you want me to get married, you're going to have to help me find a husband," she said.

"Of course," Brooke nodded. However, her father, who was always so sure of himself, appeared doubtful. He was still silent.

"If I do this, my inheritance is secured. Right?"

"Yes."

Determination coursed through her. "I don't want just your word. That could change at any time. I want this down on paper. If I find a husband, my trust fund is secured. It's mine. I'll even go on the mend. There will be no more episodes like this."

"How encouraging," Brooke drawled.

"Brooke, that's enough," her father cut in. "Yes. If you want it on paper, we'll have it done up. I'll call Meyers."

Meyers was her father's lifelong lawyer who handled all of the Lloyd Company contracts. This was going too fast. Not how she imagined her night. Just a few hours earlier, she was happily downing Tequila shots after Thaddeus had flown in from Chicago to have their ritualistic dinner together, only to disappear with a redhead by the end of the night. She told herself she didn't care but a few drinks in and she didn't believe the lie. After that, it seemed like a good idea to drive home. That was before the front of her car wrapped around a tree. She was lucky she wasn't hurt. The alcohol had relaxed the muscles, making the impact less brutal on her body. It was also fortunate she wasn't going very fast.

"Good. So it's settled. In a year, I'll be married and I hope you'll be happy," she spat before exiting the room. All she wanted to do was escape so she could burst into tears.

Brooke spared a glance at her husband who said softly under his breath, "I hope we're doing the right thing."

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "You fixed me up. Someone who loves her will."

…

Things were frosty between them. The Lloyds never ate their meals together. Or at least she avoided eating with her parents. In a week, she had moved out of the house into a tiny apartment. Every week after that, her parents would throw a party where all the eligible bachelors of their social class would show up. They all bored her to death. The parties were a cover up. It was really just speed dating for Rhonda. She had been unimpressed by everyone so far. That was until one evening, the universe sent her a beautiful blonde man with a charming smile and baby blue eyes so clear they sparkled. He caught her attention in an instant. He smiled up at her, showcasing even teeth. Even from afar she noticed. He had a face that had seemingly been sculpted by the renaissance masters. His appearance was so sudden that it wasn't a stretch to imagine a bolt of lightning struck and then there he was. Standing like a proud Roman god in the middle of the room, surrounded by women. She flirted with her eyes. Before moving off to the crowd, she adjusted her tight red ballgown to showcase more of her breasts. When she turned around, the women have scattered and he was speaking to her father. He had such magnetism, she couldn't look away.

Gaining courage, she walked up to them. Buckley immediately introduced him. The gorgeous man straightened up, extending a hand towards her. He gave a dashing, amused smirk.

"Hello there, I'm Edward Smith. Pleasure to meet you."

"Rhonda Lloyd. Charmed."