My frown deepens because I'm even more confused now. If he isn't replacing me in the company, that means he plans on taking me back there.
But what kind of person goes shopping for her friend's hostage?
Only an accomplice.
“So, you're the one who undressed me, then?”
The woman—Anastasia—steps back and hangs her head bashfully.
“Guilty as charged.” She lifts her hands in a show of surrender. “I'm sorry that you're going through all of this, Annika. But I promise, it will all make sense soon enough.”
She looks up and meets my eyes, and it's as if her blue orbs are hypnotizing gems, because I suddenly feel how calm and soothing her mere presence is. I can't possibly be angry with her, but she's still onhisside, and as far as logic goes, she's an enemy.
“What are you doing here? Except to bring me clothes?”
“I'm here to offer an olive branch, in case you need a friend.”
“I don't,” I say quickly, crossing my arms defensively. “What Idoneed is to get out of here. And unless you're here to offer a way out, we're not friends.”
Anastasia sighs and takes a seat on the bed, lifting a bag into her lap. “I can only imagine what you're going through—”
“You can't.”
“Fair.” She gulps as she lifts her eyes to mine. “I wouldn't know. But things will make sense eventually.”
“Why does it sound like there's a big secret behind any of this?” I snap. “Henry kidnapped me, and he's forcing me to marry him so he saves his ass from marrying some big-shot investor. There's nothing to make sense of, except that my boss is a raging lunatic.”
Anastasia winces as if my words stung her, and I frown, wondering if there's more to this than either of them is letting on.
“You look uncomfortable, Anastasia. Is there something he hasn't told me yet?”
Anastasia gulps, but she shakes her head. “No. It seems he's told you everything, Annika. But that's not why I'm here.” She reaches into the bag and pulls out a white silk bundle that she holds out to me. “I'm just here to give you the dress you're meant to wear tonight. You need to be ready by seven.”
I take the bundle with a force that has it spilling out into a beautiful dress, but I can hardly appreciate it when it signifies a forced agreement.
“If you're his friend, why didn't he just marry you instead of going through all this trouble to kidnap someone who doesn't want to marry him?”
Anastasia clears her throat as she stands up, looking more uncomfortable when she replies, “It's not so simple, Annika. He chose you for a reason.”
“What does that mean?”
“As I said, it will make sense eventually.”
She turns to leave, and that's when I stand up, flinging the dress to the bed. “There's something you're not telling me. What is it?”
She turns reluctantly at the door, her head hanging. “It's not my place, Annika. I'm sorry.”
Anastasia leaves before I can probe her anymore, leaving me more confused than I was before she came in. But I'm also more determined than ever to figure out what the hell is going on.
Or, at least, escape him before I do, because something tells me I'm not going to like whatever it is.
***
Anastasia must have a keen eye, or maybe she used my unconscious state last night to measure with tape, but the silk wedding dress fits perfectly, hugging my body like a second skin.
It's unsettling to see myself in the mirror, and I find it strange that I'm wearing a wedding dress at all. If this is just a contract marriage, then surely I could have signed the papers in a loose T-shirt and jeans.
It's all starting to feel more sinister, and I can't shake the feeling that Henry is involved in something worse than just marriage to save his ass. Something about the cabin in the mountains and this flattering dress is starting to feel very “culty.”
