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Yet when I reach for the knob, ready to get away from him, even if it means facing my joyful guests, his arm shoots out. He takes hold of me, almost brutal, when he yanks my hand away from the knob.
“What are you doing?” I demand while he takes hold of my other arm and shoves me against the wall. “Stop it. This isn't the time!”
He only chuckles. It's a grim, cold sound that sends an icy finger running down my back.
“I'm serious. There are all those people waiting for us. Can this wait until later?”
I look up at him, ready to spit in his face if that's what it comes to—until I really take a look at his face for the first time since he entered the room. He looks exactly like Christian. The same features, the same eyes, the curve of his jaw, even the same ears.
But there's something different. I can't put my finger on it, but I know for sure that while he looks exactly like my husband, I've never met him before.
The breath catches in my throat when I realize it. “You're not Christian.”
He lets go of one of my arms, grinning, before drawing a pistol from his waistband and hitting me over the head. Before I can scream, everything goes black.
22
CHRISTIAN
I lose track of how long Siân has been gone. My father finished his little speech, and everyone proceeded with the festivities as one normally would. Now, people are talking amongst themselves, and more food, drinks, and desserts circulate from table to table.
Two courses have been swapped out when I pull myself from my thoughts and stare at the empty seat beside me. Cynthia’s eyes are focused on the crowd, her body rigid with unease. Nothing less than expected. She doesn’t want to be here any more than I want her to be.
Throwing my gaze around, I crane my neck to look over everyone to get a better view of the back of the house. A tingle pricks through my fingers, and I inadvertently fist the arm of my chair.
Where the fuck is she?
I catch a glimpse of my father’s expression when I settle back into my seat. He’s staring at me. Leaned back in his chair, with his legs wide and discriminating smug. A chill settles in my bone and the hairs at the nape of my neck rise. I can feel the cool, tingling sensation of nerves making their way through my body.
Why is he looking like that? His eyes are boring into me as if he’s trying to get a read on me. Almost as if he knows that there is a shift in the air. As if somewhere deep within, he knows Siân and I have conspired against him.
I roll my shoulders back, putting the thought to the back of my mind. He doesn’t know shit. This is what he does. Use his presence in an attempt to intimidate. It’s useless, and he knows it. One thing he’s hated about having me as a son is that while I may follow his orders, he’s never been able to instill fear in me.
I stay in line out of respect for the hierarchy. The dark glares didn’t affect me as a child, and they certainly won’t affect me now. Especially when I know that today will be his last night breathing.
He disrespected Siân for the last time. She’s my bride now, which means that from this point on, she’s my world—my everything. And she wants him gone. So I’ll make it happen if it means making her happy.
A server cuts across my view, blocking me from my father for just a second. That’s all I need to clear my mind and hold my head high. When the coast is clear, Samuele catches me staring this time, my scowl more menacing. I know my father, and when he gets this look in his eyes, he’s up to something. For a moment too long, we share a silent disagreement.
From the corner of my eye, I see another one of the servants scrolling by and reach out to grab his arm without breaking my gaze from Samuele. Something tells me that I need to keep an eye on him.
Siân has been gone way too long, and all of a sudden, I feel as if dear ole Dad has been watching me for a reason. I tug the man down so that I can whisper in his ear.
“Trovala.” Find her.
He needs no other explanation and rushes off with a curt nod. With one eye on him and the other on Samuele, I somehow manage to watch them both. When the servant disappears inside the house, I focus solely on Samuele again.
Until Cynthia leans over and taps me on the shoulder. “I’m worried. Siân has been gone a long time.”
