“You are, to have so many Alphas in your family that care for your wellbeing,” Valente said, stroking the length of her ponytail where it tumbled over her shoulder. Fingering the deep russet strands, he gave a pleased rumble. “Indeed, your brother Marco has come up with quite the plan for you.”
“Oh?”
She wasn’t going to sit through this again. Thought it had been settled the last time, and by her father no less. The very idea of Marco taking her as his was disgusting enough for the obvious reasons, but the fact he would make it his life’s work to destroy her was more than Elena could stomach. She’d claw his damn eyes out before letting him touch her.
Valente knew her thoughts. He crushed her against him, keeping her right where he wanted her.
“But I want better for my daughter. You’re worth more than some upstart family who can’t even fund their own ventures. They would need the coin of our name to rise to any significance. Which is why I’ve agreed to the Russian’s proposal.”
“You already promised her to him,” Marco demanded in a snarl, a bold step taken forward.
Valente’s roar silenced Marco and threw all her brothers back a staggering step. Elena had no such luck. Squeezed against the sound, her pathetic shriek spiraled through the room. Shoulders scrunched to her ears, her knees came up to protect the softness of her belly.
“Quiet,” Valente growled at her ear, the hand not keeping her imprisoned on his knee shoving her legs flat.
Straining against the rough push earned her a light cuff that had her vision swimming. Elena swallowed back the rush of bile and forced her body to relax. Letting her father pose her as some doll until he was satisfied once more.
“This is good news, Marco,” Valente assured, very near to crooning as he straightened Elena’s hair over her shoulder. “The Russian is desperate to save face, and he’ll put his money up front. Before he even gets his hands on our little one.”
“But Father, he’s running?—”
“I don’t care. He has the means and the name. He will further this family’s reach. You all should be celebrating such a match. Including you, dear daughter.”
“Of course, Father.” Elena’s smile struggled, but she managed to pin it in place. Not so long ago, she might have fought it. She would have railed and denied the very idea. Now her position was far too precarious, the threat of being too much trouble constantly looming.
Elena knew where that path headed. Straight into the hands of someone who didn’t matter. At least a family with a name in good standing might keep her well enough, in spite of the abuse. This Russian might even be kind after a fashion. There wouldbe no telling with a man who meant nothing to anyone. Worse would be to Marco and his gross maltreatment of his Omegas. Three of them in his house already, all of them battered. Disfigured by bruises and broken bones.
So she endured Marco’s hostile glare and the crude, measuring gazes of her other male siblings. Kept the smile in place as her father patted her arm and said something about champagne. Of course, she wasn’t allowed any, but he’d make her sit there while they all planned her future.
“There’s other matters to discuss,” Francis murmured as he spun the delicate crystal stem of the flute between his fingers.
Valente grunted his acknowledgement, practically shoving Elena away. Though her stockings slid over the carpet with a crackling hiss of static, she caught her balance and managed to lunge for the door all in the same movement. The doors to the study slammed behind her, leaving her alone in the shadowed foyer.
Exhaling a ragged breath of relief, Elena retrieved her shoes and trudged her way upstairs. She wanted a hot bath and a good book. With no more exams or classes, she could finally relax. There was nothing she could do about her father’s future arrangements for her.
Her plans flew out the open window where her sister Maria struggled for handholds to pull herself inside.
“What in the name of the Gods are you doing,” Elena hissed in a whisper, closing the door with the utmost care before rushing over to grab Maria’s arm.
“It was just a party,” Maria panted as she tumbled inside, caught at the last by Elena’s wrenching hold on her jacket before she crashed to the floor.
“You’re going to get us both killed. Maria, you know better!”
“Only girls were there. Played spin-the-bottle, though. Stacy tastes odd.”
Elena sucked in a horrified breath and dragged Maria fromthe window seat, marching her through the doorway into the ensuite bathroom.
“Go on, brush your teeth. Use the mouthwash. Gods, you are so stupid sometimes.”
“I’m not his meal ticket.” Maria pulled her lips between her teeth, brows scrunching together as she looked at Elena’s reflection in the dark mirror. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“You’re right, you aren’t his meal ticket,” Elena said, scraping together the dredges of her willpower to keep her voice cool and modulated, and to not fall down and sob. “Which means he’ll be more than happy to do to you what he stops himself from doing to me.”
“My mama wouldn’t?—”
“Do not ever count on your mother stopping Valente from doing what he wants.”
Elena didn’t wait for Maria’s sad apologies or the thick tears in her big brown eyes. She might be young and careless, but her quick words cut deep, and Elena was in no mood for it. Not tonight. Turning the hot tap full blast, Elena drowned out whatever Maria might want to say with the roar of water slamming into the giant claw foot tub.
