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I have to grit my teeth against a groan. I almost forgot about him. The man who’s supposed to be my father, a man now sneering at me, just barely keeping it together when it’s obvious he wants to laugh. I’ve heard his name used before. Alvarez.
“I never thought this day would come,” he adds with a snicker. Obviously, this is all incredibly hilarious to him.
Then I guess it would be. He’s getting a deal out of this, but I’m not even his daughter. Instead of barging in and demanding to hear the whole story from my point of view, he’s laughingly going along with it. “Why didn’t you tell them the truth from the beginning?” I whisper. “Please, I’m trying to understand.”
Like magic, his smile dissolves into something more sinister, something that goes with those cold, dead eyes of his. “Who says you get to understand anything? You’re the one who used my family name. I’m the one who deserves an explanation—not that I care much about you or your reason for doing anything.”
I can’t help but gasp at the sight of the gun he pulls out from his waistband, scrambling backward until I hit the vanity table. He points it at me, his handsome face cold and hard. “Where’s the product you stole? Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
That’s all he cares about? I should’ve known. I mean, why would he give a shit about me, anyway? “I don’t know! I really don’t.”
He advances on me, one slow step at a time. “Don’t lie to me. There might be a minister waiting outside and twenty guards wandering around, but I could kill you right now, and I wouldn’t feel a thing.”
I have no trouble believing that. I thought Enzo was bad? There is no life behind this man’s eyes. I can’t stop bouncing my attention between them and the gleaming pistol aimed at my chest. “I’m telling the truth. I don’t know what happened to it. And I wasn’t trying to steal it, either. I was supposed to deliver it.”
“I don’t want to hear your shit,” he barks with a wave of the gun, which he quickly aims again. “You’re going to give me what I’m looking for, or this white dress is going to turn red real fast.”
I don’t know what to do. It’s just like when Enzo first took me. The way he insisted on ignoring everything I said, so sure I was lying to him all the time. This feels like I’m in that nightmare all over again.
His eyes dart over my face, his jaw twitching. “Well? What’s it going to be? And let me tell you something, whatever your name is: nobody steals from me and walks away. Ask anybody, and they’ll tell you. I’m not a man who takes theft lightly.”
When he falls silent, I whisper, “I’m sure you aren’t.” After all, it seems like he’s waiting for something.
“So the fact that I’m even giving you a chance to tell me the truth says a lot.” His mouth twists in a nasty smirk. “But it should also tell you I’m not used to controlling myself when I’ve been betrayed. So I wouldn’t rely on kindness much longer.”
“I completely understand what you’re saying,” I whisper, praying nobody is standing right outside the door. Granted, I’m screwed either way, but if I’m going to die, I would rather it be quick, the way my supposed father is threatening. Something tells me Enzo wouldn’t make it quick.
All I can do is shrug helplessly. “I know you won’t believe this, but I would tell you if I knew. I really would.”
“So you’re going to go through with this marriage? Even though it’s all a lie?”
It’s a ridiculous question, but it goes to show how little this man understands my situation. He’s so busy worrying about himself, he hasn’t given me a moment’s thought—what a surprise. “What choice do I have? From the beginning, he was so sure I was a part of your family. I never said I was. He just assumed. No matter what I told him, he wouldn’t listen—any more than you’ll listen now,” I add because what the hell? I have nothing left to lose at this point.
He scowls, eyes narrowing. Would he seriously shoot me here in this house, with everybody waiting for us? Not that I think he would particularly care about our surroundings, but there are guards everywhere, waiting for him to walk me down the aisle. I’m sure everybody saw him walking in here, too. It’s not the kind of situation he could escape easily.
Once I look at it that way, I have the courage to lift my chin a little higher. “I don’t want to do this, but at least you made it possible for me to keep my life when you didn’t expose me. I guess I should thank you for that.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” he growls, looking toward the door over his shoulder before turning back to me. “Last chance. We both know you don’t want to do this. Tell me where the package is, and I’ll see to it you get out of here. I’ll take care of everything. You’ll be free and never have to see any of us again. But I need that damn package.”
I could weep. I honestly could. Not because I believe he would actually set me free. Men like him don’t keep big promises like that to people like me. He thinks I’m a thief. Why would he let me go? As soon as he had what he wanted, I’d be dead.
But then I’m dead either way, aren’t I? And I have been from the beginning. Anything else I’ve told myself was a lie, an illusion I only wanted to be true. My hopes of escape, all of it. One fairy tale after another.
“I would tell you if I knew,” I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion I can’t hide. “And I am sorry. Really. I never wanted to get mixed up in all this.”
He stopped listening as soon as I turned him down. “Very well. That’s what you want? You just dug your own grave.” He hides the gun again before grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me toward the door. “Then we’d better get you out there. Your loving groom is waiting.”
“What are you going to do?” I whisper in terror once we reach the hall. It’s empty, but guards wait at the foot of the stairs.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”
“Are you going to tell them?” He only responds with a nasty little grin that turns my stomach and brings tears to my eyes. I’ve never felt so completely alone and friendless in my entire life. I’m at the mercy of this maniac.
Then he flips a switch inside himself and turns into a doting father. I’m not sure which version of him scares me more. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he murmurs as we descend the stairs. “It’s time to get you married off.”
I force a smile, but it’s weak and teary. Well, don’t brides sometimes cry?
He walks me through the house and out through the side door to the yard. It’s simple, the setup, but strangely touching just the same. A single row of chairs sit at the end of a long, white runner, and at the far end stands an archway decorated with flowers.
