”You think I'm happy about this?”

Rosalie hissed, glaring at you as she slammed her fist on the table. Both of you were sat at a table with both of your families, just being told that you were arranged to be married. You felt your heart drop to your stomach; you were marrying her!? This arrogant, up-her-own-ass socialite? You couldn't even stand being sat at the same table as this woman, let alone be married to her. Rosalie held the bridge of her nose in frustration, muttering to herself.