Being an omega is ridiculous.
My insides light up. He not only knows my birthday is tomorrow; he also bought me agift.
I pop the hinge lid, and it’s a matching necklace and bracelet. The center stone in each is an icy blue hexagon surrounded in what I would guess are diamonds or white sapphires.
A lump forms in my throat, but I manage to say, “It’s a beautiful set.”
“The center stones are aquamarine while the outer are diamonds,” Moretti says. “Allow me to help you with the necklace.” He steps back and guides me over to the high-top table in the middle of the room before plucking something from his jacket. He tosses down a set of papers and a pen, pries the gift box from my hand, and steps behind me.
“What is this?” I ask, picking up the papers.
Moretti’s hand wraps in my hair, twirling it together and resting it over my left shoulder. “That would be a standard NDA. Make sure you sign all three pages, and don’t make me ask to see your driver’s license to verify your signature.”
“You want me to sign an NDA?” My jaw falls. “Why?”
“To cover our bases regarding the Jacksonville Demons.” His warm breath fans over my neck as he speaks close to my ear. “Sign the document, Vanessa.” The sides of his fingers brush my neck as he brings the necklace around my throat and fastens it. “I hear your engagement party is in two weeks. Wear either the bracelet or the necklace at all times until then. Do you understand?”
“That is a strangely specific request,” I say as my mind races.
Is he trying to set me up?
It wouldreallypiss off my father if he found out I was wearing a piece of jewelry given to me by Emory Moretti.
Not to mention, Grigoryan’s head might actually explode.
That wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Living with his fury if he survived is another story.
God.
I need to find a window to run before it’s too late.
Moretti’s warm chest frames my back as he grabs the bracelet out of the gift box and steps to the side to place it on my left wrist.
“Give me your word and sign the papers,” Moretti says.
“I grew up in this lifestyle the same as you,” I mutter, grabbing the pen. “It’s insulting that you think I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut.”
“I have every confidence in your ability to keep a secret when it benefits you to do so.” He chuckles as I flip through the pages, signing each one of them. “Allow the birthday gift to offset the sting.”
My father locks my ass down after the O’Connors’ engagement party. If I leave the house, I’m escorted by two guards my father hand selects, and they don’t play around when it comes to not letting me out of their sight.
Hell, if I sneeze while I’m alone in my bedroom at home, someone knocks to make sure I’m okay and still trapped in my makeshift prison.
It’s a marked escalation to my freedoms being taken away, and it makes for a long and miserable two weeks.
My engagement party with Grigoryan is tonight, and my father waited until the last minute to drag me to the doctor’s office for my checkup.
I follow him up to the door of the office, but keep a few feet between us. His attitude always comes with a hair-trigger, but it’s worse today, and I have a bad feeling. There are no cars in the parking lot, and there are usually three or four, at minimum, when we come in.
My father grabs the door handle as a frigid gust of wind cuts across the sidewalk. January in Boston is awful, and this year is especially cold and dreary.
The lock clangs against the doorframe, rattling as my father pulls on the handle.
My head whips up.
He tries again, like using more force will magically unlock the door, but everything seems to indicate that they’re closed. The lights aren’t on, and a quick survey of the parking lot assures me that I didn’t miss any cars.
