Page 123 of The Billionaire's Christmas Bride

"You mean, hold down a conversion without losing my wits?"

"That too," I grunt. "How do you always seem so upbeat and energetic?"

"Umm…Maybe because he has no worldly attachments?" Damian offers.

I stare at the Father, who jerks his chin, "I realized the only way out of the aftermath of the incident, was to be true to myself at all times," he says.

"What if the only thing that can soothe my mind is the one thing I must never have?" I mutter.

"Are we talking about someone in particular or a metaphor?"

"What do you think?" I mutter.

Silence stretches across the space. Neither of the other two assholes respond with an off-the-cuff remark. Thank fuck for that. Perhaps it had been the Father I had been waiting for. Guess that’s why I’d agreed to this call, which was supposed to be about 7A investments and FOK Media—which stood for Full of Kindness by the way—the companies that the seven of us own.

"I think you’re fighting your future," Edward’s tone is serious.

"I make my own future," I insist.

He quirks his lips, "You believe that, after everything you’ve been through?"

"It’s because of everything I’ve been through that I believe it."

Edward tilts his head, "You can’t control everything around you."

"Is that why you took the easy way out and gave up the real world for the spiritual one?"

Edward pales. Damian stiffens. Arpad’s silent disapproval communicates through the screen.

"Fucking hell." I drag my fingers through my hair. "I didn’t mean that Father," I mumble.

"You did," Edward’s voice is calm. "I’m glad you are able to speak your mind. In such matters, clear, concise communication is the only way forward."

"What do you mean?" I peer into the screen, trying to discern his features. "Tell me, Father."

"Some of that honesty you displayed earlier... That’s what you need to bring to your relationship with her."

"Eh?" I shake my head, "You’re making absolutely no sense."

"You know I am." Edward’s lips quirk, "Hand on heart, ask yourself what it is that you must do in this situation."

"Haven’t I been asking myself that all along? Would I be asking you this question if the answer was at all clear to me?"

"You’re the business man here, Weston. Your gut knows what it wants; your heart simply has to fall in line."

"You’re not shoddy in the business space yourself." I crack my neck. "You’ve held your own in all of the business decisions we’ve made thus far."

"Don’t change the topic," Edward admonishes. "What is it that your gut says you should do now?"

"What if it’s not clear to me for the first time, huh?"

"Wrong answer," Edward snaps. "You’re beginning to piss me off."

I blink. Edward angry? It never happens. That he swore at me? I can count on my fingers the number of times he’s done that. "I am not sure what to say," I rasp.

"You don’t have to say anything, and you do know what you have to do. Your stubborn-ass head is getting in the way. You’re trying to think about this along rational lines, when you know what you have to do."

I laugh, "Have you been spending much time with Saint?" I ask. "You’re speaking in riddles."