The Billionaire's Fragile Bride

The moaning sounds of two adults filled the presidential suite of the third floor of a penthouse. The masculine voice was louder, overshadowing the muffled sounds of the female who seemed to be in need as he wantonly hit her from the back.

He went on faster, thrusting in and out of her. His member suddenly slipped off her hole, he was about to fill her back when the loud beeping of his cellphone interrupted them, putting a halt to their sexual mission.

Callan groaned, he loathed being disturbed at a time like this. He had been working his ass off at work, and now was the time he had to have some fun, but someone chose that time to disturb him with calls. He cussed, his expression turning sour as he slid out of her.

"Do you want to pick that?" The brunette whose ass was still raised in the air asked him. She was in need and would regret it if Callan didn't finish with her tonight. Not everyone got to have a romp with the mighty Callan Barlowe, she had managed to catch his attention and she didn't want that opportunity to slip off her hands.

"Yes," wholly naked, he ambled across the room, moving to grab the phone from the bed. He picked up the phone and another call came in. He swiped up to pick up the call. "Hey mom," his deep baritone voice reverberated through the room. "What's happening tonight?" He asked, crinkling his eyes in confusion.

"We have a dinner with Arnold Sullivan and his daughters. Have you forgotten we are meeting with them today?" His mother's voice pierced his ears. "He has beautiful daughters that you will love. His first daughter is very beautiful, I already spoke to her and she seems to be interested in you too."

Callan scoffed, bobbing his head. "She does not even know me."

"She does. Everyone knows my son. I will be expecting you by eight, I love you." She ended the call before he could counter her words.

He sauntered over to where the brunette was, his eyes bloodshot red with fury. "Are you leaving?" She asked him.

He squinted his eyes, "How is that a business of yours?" Pulling out the drawer attached to the dresser in the room, he shoved out some stacks of cash and handed them over to her. "Leave before I finish in the bathroom." With that said, he strolled into the bathroom.

The brunette fumed with resentment as she watched Callan lazily drag his feet into the bathroom. He wasn't done with her yet, but she had to leave. There was always a second time, and she hoped she'd get the chance to be in bed with Callan again.

-

Callan swayed his lanky body when he got into the bathroom, he slid into the bathtub and had a slow bath, wondering why his mother wanted him to get married at all costs. He wasn't interested in getting married, all he knew was to work hard, sleep with women and make more money.

Getting married was never part of his plan, and he hoped he wouldn't see a lady that would suit him from all the six daughters of Arnold Sullivan that he was meeting tonight.

He finished from the bathroom and sauntered back into the vast bedroom. The room was the finest on the third floor of his five-floor penthouse. He specially set that room aside for his licentious activities.

He donned a pair of black trousers with a white button-down T-shirt, and a black jacket to fit. He proceeded to the long-length mirror to fix his bowtie. Ruffling his wavy dark hair, he admired his well-structured manly body in the mirror. There was evidence of his continuous and relentless workouts.

He smiled, he was the perfect definition of looks and a killer body.

After that, he combed his hair and dashed out of the room when he was satisfied with his looks.

Callan was met in the hallway by Rosa, his assistant. She hurried to lead him down to the first floor, calling out his schedules for the night as they headed towards the elevator together.

"And lastly, you have a meeting by 2 am." She finished, combing her curly red hair with her fingers. She stood close to him, almost not reaching his shoulders. Rosa was a woman of average height and body size; she was tall, and slender from the upper body down to her massive hips. "That's all for tonight, sir." She smiled at him, adjusting the glasses that perched on the bridge of her nose.

"Rosa, I think you should go home now," Callan said sternly, his face devoid of any decipherable emotion.

"But sir, you have to meet with the..."

"Rosa, I am not meeting with anyone tonight. I have to be somewhere with my mom." The elevator came to a halt. Callan kneaded his fingers against his creased forehead, his long frame hovering above Rosa. "Go home, Rosa. We will sort things out tomorrow."

"Yes, Boss." She smiled. Though she wanted him to attend the meetings, she was also glad that she could sleep well throughout the night. "I will see you tomorrow then."

The door to his Rolls Royce was already opened when he arrived at the parking lot, Callan slid in and told his chauffeur, David, his destination. Soon, the car was out of the penthouse, hitting the busy night streets of Downtown Houston.

Callan fixed his dark glasses on his eyes and leaned backwards on the seat, reminiscing the things that had been going on in his life lately. He'd been stressed out from work, he had a lot on his table.

He suddenly felt a twinge in his chest when he knew that he had to obey whatever his mother wanted him to do. She was the reason he could be called Callan Barlowe today. After he lost his father and brother many years ago, she made sure she worked her ass off to make them successful, and the result of her hard work was what he inherited that made him one of the youngest and richest billionaires in Dallas.

He was jolted out of his reverie by the ringing of his phone. He checked and again, it was his mother, Elizabeth. He smiled, bobbing his head. His mother would not back off from this.

He trusted her never to relent.

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A few minutes later, Callan arrived at his mother's mansion. She was already waiting at the garage with her chauffeur. David halted the car when they got into the house, he peeked over his shoulder to receive an order from his boss.

"You can stay here until we are back, I am pretty sure my mom would want us to leave in her car and you know, she prefers it when her chauffeur drives the car." Callan kneaded his fingers against his temples worriedly, his eyes squinting as he stared around the wide garage of his mother's manor.

He got out of the car and met with his mother, who was already out to meet him.

His lips twitched in a smile when he saw her approaching him, she was young and as beautiful as ever. "Mom," he took her hands, ducking to her level to kiss her cheek.

"Oh my son," Elizabeth hugged him tightly. "You look so good, I bet the ladies would want you."

"Mom, every lady wants me, don't you think?" He asked teasingly as they headed towards his mother's black Bentley Bentaya that blended well with the warm night.

"Yes, yes, they do." Elizabeth smiled, adjusting her knee-length straight gown. "I made the most handsome young man in town. Just take a look at you." She lauded herself, sending him a double wink.

"Yes mom, you did." He bumped his fist with his mom's and led her back into the car, admiring her as she carried herself with so much grace and elegance.

His mother was in her early fifties, but one would think she was still in her early thirties. Elizabeth was one of the few old women who took workouts seriously to stay fit. She was a very beautiful woman, tall and elegant. Callan inherited most of his traits from his mother, his ocean blue eyes, brown wavy hair and stainless beauty. He was the replica of his mother, but in a male body and he was taller too.

They have always had each other since he was little, she strove to provide him with everything that he needed and made him the finest of young men of his age.

After a long drive, they finally arrived at Arnold Sullivan's mansion.

They were welcomed by bright overhead lights shimmering from the incandescent bulbs that seemed to be in every corner of the surrounding area. The Bentley Bentaya was parked beside a white Bentley that belonged to one of the daughters of Arnold Sullivan. About seven more exotic cars crammed the parking lot, giving it a fine view.

The overhead lights became bright white immediately after Callan stepped out of the car with his mother. He quickly scanned through the tall glass windows that were not very different from the ones in his mansion.

Smiling, he linked his arms with his mother's and led her through the compound that had flowers of different kinds planted all around, all giving a pleasant scent as they walked through.

They were ushered in by a young maid. She greeted them and led them into the pulchritudinous living room. There were large artworks sparsely scattered around the white-painted wall, a treadmill was positioned close to the media set that housed books, and electronic devices.

Chandeliers attached to the very tall ceilings produced a glow that uniquely illuminated the living room with a cool color that matched Callan's mood that turned gloomy immediately he stepped foot into Arnold Sullivan's living room.

Elizabeth crouched down on the chesterfield while Callan made do with the Divan.

"Sullivan was my business partner when I was still in the business world. Getting married to his daughter will be beneficial to you and your company, Callan." Elizabeth whispered to her son as they sat in the living room, awaiting the appearance of the great Arnold Sullivan.

He said nothing to his mother's words. He could choose to do whatever he wanted and no one would hold him for that, but his mother was everything to him and he never wanted to hurt her. He had to visit with her, but he had plans of not choosing any of Arnold Sullivan's daughters with the excuse that none of them was his type. He had met a few of his daughters at social events before and he wouldn't deny the fact that they were breathtakingly beautiful, but he had never had a proper conversation with any of them.

Callan was still chatting with his mother when he sensed a strong manly scent, slightly different from his smell of cedarwood. He slowly shifted his gaze from his mother and it landed on a very tall man almost the same height as he was, a bit old and clean-shaved.

He donned a pair of white trousers, a white T-shirt and a white suit jacket, his lips tugged in a big smile when he sighted Callan and his mother, he hurried down the stairs, sauntering over to meet with them at the alcove of the vast living room.

Callan recognized him. He was the great Arnold Sullivan, the CEO of the greatest shipping company in the country, known far and wide for his dexterity. Even though Callan was rich, one of the richest young men in the city, he still secretly looked up to Arnold Sullivan.

"Elizabeth," Arnold smiled, revealing his dimpled cheeks.

"Oh, Arnold." Elizabeth hugged him, letting go almost immediately.

"You look great, Lizzy and I can see that you are with a fine man as well." Arnold adjusted his blazer, gawking at Callan.

"I am Callan Barlowe, the CEO of Barlowe Holdings." Callan quickly introduced himself before his mother did.

"I have heard about you and I must say that you are a great young man. Just the type that I want for a son-in-law." Arnold grinned. "Come on, let's move over to the dining table, my daughters will soon be out." He said, pointing towards the dining area.

"Sure," Elizabeth looked at her son and he nudged her with his head. She smiled, following behind Arnold as he ambled over to the dining room.

"How are your businesses doing?" Arnold asked when they were settled on the cushion that surrounded the glass table in the dining room. "For a young man like you, how has it been?"

"Very good." Callan smiled proudly. "One just has to know the pros and cons of whatever business they are doing. However, there are problems that occur from time to time, they are solvable if you think very well about them."

"I trust that you are doing great." Arnold smiled. "You know we've been in business for a long time and you can always come to me whenever you need elderly advice. Oh, I forgot your mother is a guru too, no wonder you are doing so well." He said jokingly and they all laughed at his dry joke.

Arnold went into a deeper conversation with Callan and Elizabeth. He got to know that Callan was extremely intelligent, just what he wanted for his daughters. He was glad he came to his house to seek one of his daughters, he was cool with whichever he chose out of his six daughters.

He asked him a question and Callan was about to answer when his six daughters filed into the dining room; all of them looking breathtakingly gorgeous, he swayed a bit when he caught a glimpse of their well-toned long legs slapping against the tiled floor.

They were all tall with slender frames like that of runway models. He wondered if they worked out together to keep fit. They smiled, pulling out their respective chairs to sit down. They all had their eyes on him except for one of them, he knew well that ladies couldn't resist him.

"Here are my daughters," Arnold smiled like a proud father. "Introduce yourself to Callan, girls." He urged them with his hand.

The one with the curly hair, clearly the most beautiful of them all, stretched out her hand and smiled flirtatiously at him. "I am Mia, the first daughter of Arnold Sullivan, I am the Vice chairman of Sullivan Shipping Company." Her long arms dangled in front of Callan, smirking as she slid her hand into his. He bumped her hand up and down and smiled. Mia was his type with her perfect smile and pretty oval-shaped face. She was the kind of woman he'd like to go out with once, sleep with and get rid of.

"Callan Barlowe." He let go of her hand. Trying to recall where he had seen Mia before as his eyes scrutinized her, he had seen her before and it was not at a social event.

He thought carefully and then it clicked. They met at a clubhouse and what happened that night was vague. He kissed his teeth, muttering some cuss words. He was certain Mia remembered him too because she was staring strangely at him.

"I am Sophia, the second daughter of Arnold Sullivan." The dark-haired one smiled at him, not stretching out her hand to him. She was clearly uninterested in him, and he appreciated her for that because he clearly wasn't interested either.

She was simply beautiful, not overly dressed like Mia. Her green eyes shimmered as she stared at everything and everyone in the dining room except him. She didn't even talk about her job, he smiled at her nonchalance. He loved that.

"I am Camila Sullivan, the third daughter of Arnold Sullivan." She had a bubbly personality, she was all over the place and Callan didn't like that. He took her hand and smiled at her, letting go very quickly. Though very beautiful, she wasn't the kind of woman he'd want, she was too skinny. "I am a model." She said, as if on cue with his thoughts.

"I thought as much." Callan chuckled lightly.

"I am Amelia, the fourth daughter of Arnold Sullivan, an attorney." She flipped her shoulder-length hair to the side and winked at him. She looked like one who was interested in going to bed with him.

He took her hand and she stroked his fingers for a while before letting go. Callan smirked back at her, returning her vibes and energy. They could hook up later if she was still interested, but the marriage was a no for him.

"I am Emma, the fifth daughter of Arnold Sullivan," She took Callan's large hands in her smallish ones. "I own a fashion line for men and women. You must have heard of Emma's styles, that's me." She grinned widely, revealing her perfect set of white teeth. "I must say that you are a very handsome man." She flirted with him, talking back and forth about how a model like him was needed in her fashion brand.

The two adults watched them with utmost interest. When Emma was talking too much, her father quickly cut in. "Emma, let your sister continue from here."

"Oh, dad, come on." She shrugged her shoulders, her short hairstyle perfectly fitted her, making her look more like a stylist. Her chatty mouth was a turn-off for Callan already. "Welcome here." She leaned back on the cushion, her eyes intently fixed on him.

"I am Mila Sullivan, the sixth daughter of Arnold Sullivan. I just graduated from medical school, top of my class. I am currently a resident doctor in my father's hospital." She was smallish and really pretty and had the same green eyes as her sisters. She looked way too innocent, but there was something about her aura that Callan felt would be dangerous like she was hiding under a facade. She shook his hand, bumping it up and down.

Callan nodded his head, he was impressed. They were all beautiful and all seemed to be doing well for themselves from what he was told. Sophia was the only one who didn't tell him what she was into, and he wasn't interested either.

"My daughters are exceptional, is there anyone you'd want to settle with," Arnold asked Callan, smiling.

Callan scrutinized them, all of them had eyes on him aside from Sophia of course. None of them caught his attention, he shook his head and replied in a bored tone. "None,"

Their jaws dropped when he said that. "What do you mean?" Mia spat angrily. "You mean none? Even me?" She smiled.

Callan could feel his mother's hot gaze burning him down, but he chose to avoid her eyes at that moment. Then he remembered that Arnold Sullivan had seven daughters but just six were there, he was yet to meet the seventh daughter.

"There is one more of your daughters that I am yet to meet. Can I meet her too?" He asked Arnold. "I heard you have seven daughters, where is the last one?"

A look of displeasure washed through Arnold's face when Callan asked him that.

"No, she isn't your type. These six beautiful ladies are my most eligible daughters. If you don't want anyone from them, then forget about choosing a bride from the Sullivan family." Arnold stated sternly.

"You won't even like her, she's not someone you'd want." Mia chirped in, scrunching her nose in disgust.

"I still insist on meeting her." Callan stood on his words.

The six daughters exchanged a knowing glance and they laughed out loud.

Sophia looked at her dad and said. "Dad, you know well that I am not into men, I love ladies more and this gathering is not for me. If you don't mind, I would like to excuse myself."

Callan nodded his head, he now understood why Sophia didn't show any interest in him, she was a lesbian.

"Mia, my first daughter is beautiful and smart." Arnold countered.

"And she will make the perfect bride for you, son." Elizabeth who had been quiet all this while finally talked. "Mia is..."

She wondered how Callan got to know about the seventh daughter. She only told him they were meeting with six, but Elizabeth knew that Arnold had a daughter he never spoke about.

"I want to meet your last daughter, Mr Arnold Sullivan." Callan insisted, his voice domineering and authoritative.

That was what he needed before he walked out of the dining room and forever out of Sullivan's mansion with or without a bride.

Sophia clambered the stairs in a hurry. She was done with the conversation downstairs. She got to the hallway that separated the rooms and was heading down to her room, but halted when she got to the doorpost.

She knew well that her father would never let Callan see their last sister if she didn't incite it. None of their sisters liked to get involved with her, she wasn't a fan of her either, but she could help her this one time. Not that Callan would ever choose her over her other sisters though, she wasn't anywhere close to attractive.

She veered around, striding back to the first room that belonged to their last sister. She knocked gingerly on the always-locked door. She heard the tiny voice of her sister and informed her that she was the one. The door pulled open a few seconds later, and she slipped and shut the door.

Her eyes wandered to her sister's tiny room, painted pink and blue. It was nothing compared to theirs, which was vast with different adjoining smaller compartments. She sighed and glared hard at her.

"Hey, Orla." She called her name.

Orla hoisted her head up to stare at her sister. She was so scared of holding her deadly glares. So, she lowered her head and forced a smile that disgusted Sophia.

"You never visit my room," Orla said, her tone tiny and dry.

The only times her sister visited was when they wanted to remind her of how worthless she was and how she'd never amount to anything good because she was deeply loathed by their father and every single member of the family. Sophia was the only one who never said horrible things to her, but she didn't like her either. She just acted neutral around her.

"Your attention is needed downstairs, Dad wants to see you in the dining room." Her eyes ogled Orla's body, she was wearing a very long gown that appeared overly bigger than her. It didn't fit her very slender frame at all, her ginger hair was properly combed, and shiny as the sun glistened on it through the window blinds. Sophia sighed, she'd never seen Orla's ginger hair as a deterrent but her father and all of her sisters hated it so much. "Wear something more decent and go meet Dad downstairs."

Orla checked herself and shook her head. "All my clothes are like this." She said, squinting her large hazel eyes.

"Then go like this, not that he would want you anyways," Sophia mumbled harshly. "Go now, hurry before he comes to get you." She darted out of Orla's room, slamming the door with great effort.

Orla jumped in fear when the door produced a banging sound. She bent down to summon Betty, her cat. The white cat hopped into her arms, snuggling up in her arms as she looked at her. She caressed her fur and walked out of her room, heading to the dining room with Betty in her arms.

Betty was her only friend in the world, she listened to her rants, cared about her and made her happy even though she couldn't talk. Orla was certain that Betty loved her so much, just as she loved her too.

As Orla descended the stairs with slow gaits, she bumped into one of the maids who was on her way to serve the table. She wanted to call her back to ask what was happening in the living room, but the maid stared scornfully at her, giving her no space to talk at all.

Orla smiled sadly, everyone in the house, including the maids, disliked her so much. She'd seen how the maids treated her sisters with respect but treated her rudely like she was a slave in her father's house.

Sometimes Orla doubted if she was the daughter of Arnold Sullivan. Betty got loose and jumped out of her grip, she panicked and looked for her, her heart in her throat as she roamed around the living room. She trailed her down to the dining room, where she was hiding under the table.

Amid everyone present at the table, Orla went on her knees to get her cat, she kissed her and rubbed her fur, smiling.

"What do you think you are doing and who the hell let you out?" Arnold yelled at Orla.

Orla shrieked, rising to her feet. "I was told that my attention is needed here and that's why I am here." She was trembling in fear as she spoke to her father.

Callan leaned backwards, wondering if Orla was one of the maids because she didn't look like a rich man's daughter with her overly long gown and plain appearance.

"Who is she?" Callan asked Arnold, his eyes not leaving Orla.

"She's Orla, my last daughter," Arnold said bitterly, glaring so hard at Orla as she bowed her head to the floor and rubbed her cat's fur.

Callan took a cursory glance at her again, she was extremely thin, and never the kind of woman he'd look at twice. He smiled as he watched her twinkle her innocent eyes. Her aura didn't scream evil, or bogus like her sisters', she seemed original. He nodded his head and said. "She's okay."

The rest of the ladies turned their heads toward his direction. "What do you mean by that?" Mia asked unbelievably. "I thought you had class and taste. How the fuck would you say Orla is okay when I am right here in front of you?" She clasped her hands together, scoffing.

Her four other sisters seconded Mia's point, they didn't fight for Callan anymore, they wanted him to settle with Mia and never Orla. He noticed how much they hated Orla in the family, from how the father spoke harshly to her to how her sisters stared scornfully at her, uttering cuss words at her. He wondered why it was that way.

"Mom, if I am to choose from any of Arnold Sullivan's daughters then she will be the one I want." Callan stood his ground.

"Callan, just take a good look at Mia and her other four sisters and look back at her," she motioned to Orla like she meant nothing and he frowned when his mother did that. "Please choose someone else."

"Mom, you want me to get married, don't you?" He smiled, staring at his mother.

"I chose Mia for you, I told you about Mia." She whispered. "She will make a great bride, she has a good job, she's beautiful and classy and not." Elizabeth sighed, her head was beginning to ache.

"Mr. Sullivan, your daughter is a Sullivan too and I can choose whomever I want. Right? So, she's the one I want as my wife." Callan stated frankly.

"Wife?" Orla sounded befuddled, her eyes wandering from her father down to her sisters. She needed someone to explain what was going on.

"Yes, you are getting married to me," Callan said authoritatively and Orla wavered back, holding her cat very tightly.

"No," she shook her head, and trepidation crept into her mind. "Get married to you?" She looked over at her father who didn't give a damn about her.

She was about to ask him if what Callan was saying was true but she swallowed her question. Her eyes darted from her sisters to Elizabeth, to her father and finally to Callan; she had never seen a man that gorgeous in her whole life and how could this gorgeous man want a crap like her for a wife?

"Orla is a Sullivan. As much as I would have wanted you to get married to one of my other daughters, you bluntly refused. You chose Orla and I hope that you deal with her when she's finally married to you." Arnold stared disgustingly at Orla, she quickly dropped her head before her father's death stares swallowed her up.

"Do you agree with my decision?" Callan asked sternly. He wasn't smiling anymore, he wasn't sure why he chose Orla and deep down, he hoped he wasn't making a lifetime mistake, but even though he was, he wasn't interested in getting married. He was just doing all he had to do to make his mother happy, but she seemed so mad that Callan chose Orla instead of Mia, which she wanted.

"She's not an eligible Sullivan, she has no job, and all she does all day is stay in her room." Mia chirped in very quickly, she was very angry now and it was evident in her countenance and her raspy voice.

"If he wants her, then let him have her." Arnold gave his conclusion.

"Dad," Orla called, swallowing a lump in her throat. "Father," she changed and Arnold looked up at her. "Please, I don't want to get married now. I am young, I am just twenty-two and..."

"Shut the hell up, Orla."

Callan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He didn't appreciate how Callan was speaking to Orla and he planned to come in if he acted rudely to her again.

"You are old enough and you will get married to Callan Barlowe. That's final, you can go back to your room now." Arnold said.

Orla hugged her cat, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. She turned to leave but Callan held her back, his cold hand putting her heart to an abrupt stop, she looked back at him, his face void of emotions.

He quickly let go of her and said. "Sit here with us to eat."

"She doesn't have a chair here at the dining table, she can't eat here," Emma muttered, kissing her teeth.

"She's my wife-to-be, I would like to see her face and ask her a few questions. Can you leave the table for her?" Callan demanded politely.

"I can't," Emma rolled her eyes. None of them would.

Callan smiled, looking over to Arnold, he said. "I think we are done here, my mother and I will leave now and we will discuss the wedding plan."

Hearing the words caused Orla's insides to rupture in fear. She was fragile, she knew nothing about men or love and now her father was marrying her off at twenty-two. Thinking of that fact caused her to sob. Even though her father's house was a mini-hell, she was still cool with caging herself in the room, conversing with her cat, she didn't want to leave to live with a man she had never seen, a man she knew nothing about.

She secretly glanced at Callan when he wasn't even looking at her. He straightened up and took his mother's hand in his, he didn't bother to look at her one more time before walking out of the house.

She was certain he already forgot about her, he didn't even know that he just chose her to be his wife. She watched Callan and his Mother as they walked out of the dining room with her Father who had a sad smile on his face. He must have wanted Callan to choose Mia, his favorite daughter.

When they were out of the living room, Emma jumped to her feet and instantly slapped Orla on the face. The slap was hot and stinging, Orla held her face and stared at her sisters with bleary eyes.

"Who the fuck called you out here to snatch the man that belongs to Mia, you witch?" Amelia kicked her legs and she landed on the cold tiled floor with a loud thud that caused her butt to hurt. They pounced on her, beating her to a stupor before their father walked back inside the house. They sent her back into her room after they made sure there were bruises all over her face.

Orla cried out as she scurried to her room with Betty in her hands, she got to the room and shut the door, flopping on the bed. She rested her back on the headboard and cried so much.

The pain her sisters inflicted on her body was too much for her. It hurt like hell, the hatred her father had for her made her chest sting and now, she was going to marry a man she barely knew, a man whose aura exuded danger, she dangled her legs on the bed, ruffling the sheets and crying out loudly.

She was tired of living and she wished she could end her life right there.