“Am I being sacrificed…?”
My eyes widen as I stare at my reflection, but something inside me snaps, and my resolve returns, and so does my determination to get out of here.
I'm going to go through with this completely detached, unbothered by the merciless charm Henry Ralph possesses, and find my way out of here. Surely, if they've shoved me into a dress to fit some part I'm meant to play tonight, then it means I won't be marrying him in the confines of this bedroom.
My suspicions are proved when Henry walks in, and he barely says a word, his expression schooled into something that appears the way I should be feeling.
Detached. Detached. Detached.
I will not dwell on the way he looks tonight, deliciously dressed in a pristine black suit and a crisp white shirt that pairs perfectly with the way his hair is swept back, only one curl dangling on his forehead like he's the main lead in some movie.He's still a raging lunatic who kidnapped me to force me into marrying him.
I don't take the hand he holds out to me, and instead brush past him with sharp eyes to observe my surroundings. But as soon as I step over the threshold, the only thing I'm able to see is the lamp on the wall in the hallway before he grabs my arm and pins me between the doorway and his solid structure.
Oh no…
Here we go again.
The tingly sensations reignite under my skin, my breath turning shallower as I stare into his eyes, counting the specks of gold that I notice now when he's so close. Only a faint whisper in the back of my mind keeps me sane, keeps me detached, but even that sanity is hanging by the thinnest thread that might snap if I'm not careful.
If he doesn't let me go…
“Where do you think you're going, fearless dove?” Henry purrs, and it takes every ounce of strength not to crumble from the sound of his voice. My knees quiver, and I gulp hard, hanging on to the fine thread of my sanity because I can't lose the fight inside me.
“I told you not to call me th-that…” I whisper, trying to sound fierce and failing when my voice cracks.
Henry catches it nimbly and smirks. “Well, if you don't want me throwing you over my shoulder again, you're gonna behave,” he warns me, with a hint of amusement in his voice that tells me that's exactly what he wants.
He wants to be in that position of power, where he can easily pick me up at the first sign of flight.
I'm a flight hazard, but I won't be giving him the satisfaction of throwing me over his shoulder again. I snatch my arm out of his grip, suspecting that his fingers weren't wound around my arm as tightly as he's capable of, because he's half-expecting me to run again.
“That won't be happening again,” I huff, lifting my chin in defiance.
Henry chuckles lightly and nods toward one end of the hallway. “We're not leaving the cabin. My father will oversee the signing of the documents.”
My brows furrow because I can't possibly understand what the need for the dress is if we're not leaving the cabin.
My mind goes somewhere I wish it hadn't, and my heart sinks.
No…
That can't be why…
Clearing my throat, I nod diplomatically and follow Henry into his living area. An older man is seated at the head of the table, his expression tight and unreadable, his fingers steepled in front of his face. The only thing that moves are his eyes, scrutinizing my every step until I'm at the opposite end of the table, stopping beside Henry.
“Father…this is Annika Singh.”
Henry's father stands up, then saunters forward with the kind of grace befitting ancient rulers of kingdoms seen in the movies.
He doesn't take his eyes off me, even as he reaches out a hand, and I notice how strikingly similar his features are to his son's. I place my hand in his, and the shake is curt, as business-like as meeting anyone in the office.
I can't read his facial expression, and I'm not sure how much he knows—if he knows I'm being forced into this.
If I say something, will he take his son's side? Or will he defend me? Does he even know I've been kidnapped, held against my will?
Will saying something make things worse for me?
I can't tell.
