“Maria,” I say, voice low, commanding. “Come with me.”
Her brows rise, but she doesn’t hesitate. I glance at Gabriel. “You too,” I add.
His jaw tightens, but he follows.
We find a quiet spot tucked between the trimmed hedges and fountains, where the night feels a little more private.
“Something’s happening,” I say, my voice low but steady. “Tonight, Sophia’s life changes—whether she wants it to or not. Both families have come to an agreement. We … we are to be married.” I shake my head, letting the weight of it sink in. “We’re going to be husband and wife.”
Maria blinks at me, confusion written all over her face. “Wait … what do you mean? What’s happening?”
Gabriel stiffens, shock written across every line of him. “Yeah … Raphael, explain. She’s going to be what?”
“My wife.”
Maria and Gabriel exchange a glance.
He frowns. “You can’t be serious?”
“Deadly serious.” I fix him with a look that brooks no argument. “Gabriel, I want you as my best man. I trust no one else to stand with me for her.”
He swallows hard but nods, jaw tight. Loyalty runs deep in him … but so does his shock.
Then my eyes return to Maria. She’s still staring at me, disbelief and … something else that makes my chest tighten.
“She’s going to need you tonight,” I say. “Go up to her room. Clean off that Ursula makeup. Stand next to her. Be her anchor. She can get through this evening with you by her side.”
“How?” Maria asks and I know she’s talking about the wedding.
I run a hand through my hair, sighing.
Before I can answer, Gabriel lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s why we’re here, isn’t it? The two families coming together as one.” He rests a hand on my shoulder. “You can say no.”
“But I can’t. It will end the war and unite both families. It’s for the best.”
Maria’s gaze softens. I’m hoping she understands. “I’ll go find Sophia.”
“I left her in her father’s study. She can’t run, Maria—there’ll be consequences. Try to get her through this.”
“She’s my best friend. I’ll do what’s best for her. Always.”
She leaves us at a run. I watch her go, hoping she’ll do the right thing—be by Sophia’s side so she doesn’t have to face this alone.
Chapter Six
Sophia
My bedroom feels like a prison. The walls, once comforting with their prints of the Louvre, Parisian cobblestone streets, and the Eiffel Tower, now mock me. Each image of freedom, of a life I imagined, feels like a cruel joke. When this wedding happens, I’ll be at Raphael’s beck and call. I’ll never get to go anywhere, do anything for myself. My father spelled it out in simple English: I’m nothing but a brood mare.
Tears streak down my cheeks as I stare at what I once believed would be my sanctuary, my home. The future I dreamed of is slipping through my fingers like sand. My gaze falls on the white wedding dress hanging in my walk-in closet. Every woman dreams of this moment—her wedding day, the man she loves, the walk down the aisle. Mine? Halloween costumes and a man who kills for his empire. A man who will display me like a trophy, just as my father does.
A sudden crash of the door slamming against the wall makes me jump. Maria bursts in, eyes wide and frantic, and grabs my hands. “Pack a bag. We don’t have much time.”
“What?” My voice trembles.
“Move it, Sophia!” She doesn’t wait for me to argue. She strides to my dressing table, lifts my mother’s jewelry box with care, and sets it on the bed. “You’ll want this, right?”
I blink at her, speechless. “What… what are you doing?”
