Chapter 125.

Christian had barely made it back toward the racing grounds when his phone began to vibrate.

He ignored it.

The engines were too loud anyway.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and walked through the crowd, his eyes briefly searching for Kylie.

She was already with Maya again.

He smiled to himself. He couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed.

His phone vibrated again.

Christian sighed.

He pulled it out.

His Mum name appeared on the caller ID.

His smile disappeared. He stared at the name for several seconds before answering.

"Hello." His tone came out clipped.

"Where are you?"

Christian glanced around at the crowd. "Out."

"I know you’re out. Where?"

He rubbed his jaw. "At the races."

There was a pause from the other end.

"At this hour?" His mum asked, sounding repulsed by the idea.

Christian looked toward the track as another engine roared. "It’s not exactly a library, Mum."

"Don’t be clever with me."

His jaw tightened.

He said nothing.

His mother had always hated silence when she couldn’t control it. She preferred knowing exactly what he was thinking, exactly where he was, and exactly what he intended to do next.

Christian had learned a long time ago that arguing with her rarely changed anything. It only made the conversation longer.

"Your father asked about you."

Christian scoffed mockingly. "That’s new."

"Christian."

"What?"

"Don’t start." She snapped.

He looked away.

There was something almost impressive about how quickly she could turn words into a warning.

Christian leaned against one of the concrete barriers. "Did he need something?"

"You’re his son."

"That wasn’t my question."

Christian could almost picture her expression.

She always looked composed when she was angry. He could already tell she was angry. She was always angry.

Yet Christian had never seen her lose control.

"You’ve been avoiding the house," she said.

"I’ve been busy."

"Don’t make me repeat myself."

Christian smiled bitterly. "You already did."

Another pause. She took a deep breath from the other end, and asked.

"How’s your fiancée?"

His smile vanished. He looked toward the track immediately, to make sure nobone wa within earshot.

A car sped past, its tires screeching against the asphalt.

"She’s fine."

"Fine?"

"She’s fine, Mum." He cursed under his breath.

"Have you spoken to her this week?"

"Yes." He lied between his teeth.

"How many times?"

Christian closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and cursed under his breath again. "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you’re engaged."

There it was. The word he had been trying not to think about.

Engaged.

Christian pushed himself away from the barrier. "We’ve spoken." He tried to remain calm.

He exhaled. "Twice. We spoke twice."

His mother was quiet.

Christian rolled his eyes. "What?"

"You’re not taking this seriously."

"I am."

"No, you’re not."

"I am."

"You treat everything like a joke."

His expression hardened. "Not everything."

"I don’t think you understand what your father and I have done to keep your future secure."

Christian looked down.

There was a time when those words would have made him feel guilty. Now they mostly made him tired.

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then act like it."

Christian said nothing.

His mother continued. "The Sinclair family has expectations." Her voice hardened. "Your expectations don’t matter if you refuse to grow up."

His eyes narrowed.

There was a long silence.

Christian’s fingers tightened around his phone. "Anything else?"

"You’re coming home tomorrow."

He gave a humorless laugh. "No."

"Christian."

"I said no."

His mother inhaled slowly.

Christian could almost hear the irritation in it.

"You’ve become very comfortable speaking to me that way."

"Maybe because you never listen when I speak nicely." He threw her words back at her.

Christian stared into the distance.

His mother continued. "Your father has been patient with you."

Christian scoffed. "You’re telling me he’s patient?"

"You don’t know everything that happens behind closed doors."

Christian’s expression changed. He looked down at the ground. He didn’t answer.

A group of people walked past him, laughing loudly.

Christian stepped farther away from the crowd.

His mother spoke again. "You have responsibilities, and you have a family." She paused briefly, then added. "Most importanctly, you have a fiancée."

"I know."

"And you have one year."

Christian frowned. "What?"

"One year." His mother’s voice was completely calm. "You have one year to settle down fully with your fiancée."

Christian stared ahead. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"I’m not."

"Mum—"

"One year, Christian."

He clenched his fists hard. "You’re giving me a deadline?"

"I’m giving you time."

"That’s not the same thing."

"It is when you’ve wasted enough of it."

Christian ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek.

His mother continued.

"She comes from a good family. She’s educated. She’s respectful. Her parents have been more than accommodating."

"I don’t even know her." His jaw tightened, as he trued not to snap. "Did you even consider that?"

"She understands what this family requires."

Christian’s expression tightened. He looked toward the entrance. For a moment, he considered ending the call.

His mother’s voice stopped him. "You don’t want to find out what your father and I can do if you don’t."

Christian went completely still.

The noise around him seemed to disappear.

His mother’s voice remained perfectly calm. "You have one year. Just one year to settle down fully with your fiancée."

Christian’s jaw clenched. "And after that?"

"You’ll find out."

He stared at nothing. He knew what she meant. He knew what happened when his father decided something.

The decisions were always made somewhere above his head. Everything had always been decided before Christian was invited into the room.

His mother sighed. "I don’t want us to have this conversation again."

Christian swallowed. "Neither do I."

She paused. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "Come home tomorrow."

The call ended.

Christian slowly lowered the phone.

He stared at the dark screen. For several seconds, he didn’t move. Then he slipped the phone into his pocket.

The racing grounds suddenly felt different.

He looked toward the crowd, and his eyes found Kylie again. She was laughing at something Maya had said.

Her head was tilted back slightly, while her hair moved in the wind.

Christian watched her, and a small smile slowly appeared on his face.

Marriage wasn’t something he’d planned to rush into. Also, he wouldn’t want whoever his fiancé was to be as miserable as his mother.

"To hell with marriage." He cursed. "I’ll be doing whoever she is a solid favour."