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Bellamy flinched but then added, “Everyone in his group who went through the Trials before Emmett have fallen in love with their belles and started a life with them. Marriage or the talks of marriage have come from the Trials. The end result is that every Belle gets a committed relationship.”

The same Elder as before pounded his cane again. “There’s more.”

“She wants me to marry Emmett,” Bellamy blurted out, her eyes still focused on her feet and not me sitting across from her.

“All right, Ms. Carmichael,” the Elder said, “we will help you speed this truth process along. Why does your mother want you to marry Emmett?”

She finally looked up at me again. “For his money.”

“There’s more!” the Elder shouted with another pound of his cane.

Bellamy’s eyes darted to the Elders and then to me. Her lips trembled, and she mouthed, “I’m sorry,” to me before she answered, “Because my mother and I are broke. We’ve been broke for years and living a lie that we have money when we don’t. My mother felt that if I married Emmett, our money issues would be solved. She wanted me to marry him for his money, because we need it.”

I remembered when I tried to join the football team to blend in with Montgomery, Sully, and the rest of my friends. I had been tackled hard and nearly knocked out on my first catch. I can still remember the feeling of having the air knocked out of me and fearing that I would never be able to breathe again. Inhaling fresh air seemed impossible, and…

I was experiencing that feeling again now.

“What was your request at the end if you were to complete all the Trials?” the Elder asked.

“To have Emmett marry me,” she answered quietly, tears welling in her eyes.

“Why wouldn’t you just ask for a shitload of money like the rest of the whores do?” I boomed as I stood from my seat and hovered over her. “Why marriage?”

Bellamy looked up at me, the tears finally falling down her face. “Status,” she answered simply. “We need more than just a paycheck. You know how Darlington works.”

I needed air.

I needed fucking air.

I took a few large steps away from her and turned my back on everyone. “Yeah, I know exactly how Darlington is,” I said more to myself than anyone else.

The Elders all began to bang their canes in unison, signaling that the Trial was complete. They had achieved their goal for the evening.

Keeping my composure as best as I could in order to not show how absolutely devastated I was to hear Bellamy’s truth, I took hold of her arm and helped her stand. I refused to show them that they had power over me. No one had power over me.

No one.

Not even Bellamy.

We exited the ballroom side by side, the same way we entered.

“Lift your fucking head up,” I whispered between clenched teeth. “The Elders will not break us.”

Bellamy immediately complied and pulled her shoulders back as she did.

When we entered our bedroom, she spun on her heels to face me the minute I closed the door.

“I’m so sorry, Emmett. I know what you must be thinking.”

“That you’re like everyone else,” I began, marching straight to the whiskey bottle to pour myself a glass. “That I shouldn’t be surprised by this.”

She walked over to the closet and pulled on some clothing, oddly adding some normal to our anything-but situation. She remained quiet, but what more could she say? She had to show all her cards, and what a fucked-up deck she had.

“Bravo,” I said as I took a large gulp of my drink. “I didn’t see the game. I can usually spot when a woman is using me a mile away. You did a very good job at blinding me.”

“It wasn’t a game,” she said softly. “I wasn’t using you.”

I huffed and walked over to the window, my back to her as I looked out onto the night’s sky. “Not using me? Then what would you call it? Your request was to marry me at the end. Not money. Not using The Order for money. Not fucking them over. But fucking me over. Forcing me to marry you.” I spun around to face her. “So tell me how that isn’t using me.”

“When I started all this… when I agreed to be a Belle, I didn’t think the entire thing through. Not really. I mean… how could I? I was just doing what my mother expected, like I’ve done my entire life. I don’t get the luxury in my life to say no. I don’t get to live my life how I’d choose. I do what every good Southern Belle does and submit to the rules of society.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed, fiddling with her fingers. “But you’re right. I have been playing a game.” She looked at me. “Ever since my father died, leaving us penniless, I’ve been playing it. Coming here was no different. Smoke and mirrors.”

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