Chapter 2 - Why me?

Julian’s POV

I adjusted my collar and stepped into the commercial real estate office, heading straight for the broker's desk. I didn't care about the extra fees or the location costs because I really needed the space. I was a Montgomery by blood, but I wanted to make a name for myself. My startup was going to redefine the tech logistics industry, and I didn't want my father's name or money hanging over it.

“Mr. Montgomery, always a pleasure,” the firm manager said, practically bowing as he presented the commercial lease agreement for the penthouse office. “We just need the initial deposit to secure the holding rights.”

“Run it,” I said, sliding my personal card across the counter which held everything I had saved outside of my family's reach. I needed this lease to finally prove that I didn't need their empire.

The manager collected the card, swiped it through the machine and frowned. The machine let out a loud beep as he tried the card again.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, my jaw tightened as I forced a calm expression. “If your network is down, there should be an alternative.”

“I apologize, Mr. Montgomery, but…” The manager swallowed hard, looking up at me with awkwardness. “The transaction was declined and it says the account has been frozen.”

With anger boiling through me, I snatched the card and stormed out of the office, heading straight for the Montgomery headquarters. My parents had always been against me doing things on my own. I refused to be under their wing, helping the family business. It wasn’t what I wanted for myself, that was sorely why I worked my ass off. So why the hell was my own money being restricted?

Twenty minutes later, I bypassed the security and rode the private elevator to the penthouse floor. When I walked into the room, my parents were sitting in the executive office looking calm, like they had been expecting my arrival.

“What is the meaning of this, why is my account restricted?” I asked, not bothering with pleasantries as I threw my card on the table, in front of my dad.

My father, Richard Montgomery, didn’t even look up from his tablet while my mother, Eleanor, continued sipping her tea, unbothered by my presence.

“I asked a question!” I yelled.

“Sit down, Julian,” my father said in a calm voice.

“I'm not sitting down! Fix this restriction immediately,” I snarled. Everything I had built for my independent launch was tied up in those accounts.

“We placed a parental freeze on your primary and secondary funds,” my father said, finally looking up. “You want to build your own name, Julian? You want to reject the family empire, refuse your seat on our board? Fine. But you will not use our foundation or our name to build your little competitive playground.”

I stared at him, utterly stunned. “I worked for those secondary funds! You cannot just lock me out to force me into your corporate mold, I don't want to be a part of you guys!”

“You're a Montgomery,” my mother countered gently. “And right now, your rebellion is creating a terrible narrative. The media thinks our family is unstable, which is hurting our urban development bids. So now, you will serve the family interests first.”

Before I could snap more at them, tell them whatever they were facing was none of my business, my father tossed a folder on the desk. “Open it.”

I hesitated, wanting to refuse but I also wanted my accounts back. So I did what they asked. With a sigh, I snatched up the folder. Inside there were maps and land deeds.

“What does this have to do with my accounts?” I snapped.

“We're currently locked in a massive land dispute over the expansion rights near Nine Mile Falls,” my father explained. “The Willy family owns a multimillion-dollar agricultural ranch right on the border of our planned urban development and they're blocking our bids.”

“How is this any of my business? I don’t care—”

“Shut it, son,” my dad snapped, cutting me off. “We negotiated a compromise to save the family image and secure the deal, which came down to an arranged marriage.”

I blinked, then bursted into laughter.

“Oh, okay,” I said, my tone serious again. “If you’re talking about marriage, don't you think the eldest son is supposed to bear this news? How does it affect me?Just release my funds and I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

“It has everything to do with you, because you’re getting married.”

I glanced at my mom first, then dad, checking for some hint of a joke but they looked dead serious, making a knot form in my stomach.

“An arranged marriage?” I yelled in disbelief. “I'm trying to build a career, and you want to chain me to a country ranch? I will never!”

“You will,” my father said flatly. “You will marry Savannah Willy, you will move to her family's ranch in Spokane, and you will remain there, married, for one full year. If you refuse the trust fund remains permanently frozen, meaning you will be stripped of your inheritance and everything you’ve ever owned.”

“You can't do that!” my voice cracked. I turned to my mother for help, but she merely looked away. I looked back at my father, my mind frantically searching for a loophole. “I have worked too hard to be treated this way!”

My father let out a dry chuckle that sent chills up my spine. “Did you really think I’d allow my son to work like a commoner? You have all you’ll ever need right here and still, you chose the hard path? I'm sorry son, but there’s no way around this. I wish we didn’t have to do this but you’re going to save this family with or without your consent.”

“Please, not like this?” I tried one more time as desperation filled me. “Dragging me into this isn’t fair at all!”

“Do you think there's another option?”

I opened my mouth to argue but no words came out. They knew they had me tied to them because there was no way I was giving up my sweat just like that.

“But what about Damien,” I asked in a calmer tone, looking for a way out. “He’s the eldest, isn’t he?”

“Damien is already handling a good part of the family business and in case you didn’t know, while you were away, he got engaged. They’re getting married in a few weeks.”

“No, that cannot be—”

“Your wedding is next week,” father interrupted, turning back to his tablet and effectively dismissing me from his presence. “It will be a small, private ceremony so pack your bags for Spokane, Julian. I suggest you buy some sturdy boots, because if you step foot outside that ranch before the year is up, you lose everything.”

“You cannot sell me off over some silly dispute!” I yelled, losing my cool again.

“Of course, you’re free to decline if you’re ready to start all over and that’s if we don’t keep freezing your accounts,” my dad said, sparing me no glance. “We’re done here.”