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I glance at Misha, and he subtly nods at me to continue.
When we walk to the sliding doors at the back of the mansion, and I see my father talking on his phone, I hook my arm through Aurora’s.
My father’s eyes land on us, and he mutters, “Hold on.” His eyes flick from me to Aurora to Misha, then he demands, “Where are you going?”
Smiling brightly, I answer, “I’m showing Misha the gardens.” I fake concern. “There’s time before the other guests arrive, right?”
My father stares at me, and when he’s satisfied that I’m not a flight risk, he nods. “You have ten minutes. Antonio will be here soon, and I expect you to receive your fiancé at the door.”
I want to receive Antonio with my fist breaking his nose.
“Thank you, Father,” I reply dutifully. “We won’t be long.”
The guards keep following us as we take the steps down to the garden.
Servants and catering staff are running around to get everything ready for the party. A big marquee has been erected in the middle of the garden, and tables are decorated as if there’ll be a wedding and not an engagement.
Fairy lights are being hung everywhere. There are white tablecloths, beautiful bouquets of lilies and baby’s breath, and the finest silverware.
Jesus.
Worry claws at my chest, and leaning into Aurora, I whisper, “It looks like a wedding. Tell me I’m wrong.”
I wouldn’t put it past my father to force me into marriage with Antonio at gunpoint.
There’s no way I’ll be able to say I do. Those words belong to Nikolai.
“Your mother didn’t say anything about you getting married today. Your father is just going all out to impress Antonio.”
God, I hope so.
I’m desperate to ask Misha whether he knows what time Nikolai will come, but not willing to risk it, I keep the question to myself.
Misha glances over the backyard, then nods at me.
“Let me show you the ground floor,” I say cheerfully.
My father watches us like a hawk eyeing his next meal when we pass him to enter the mansion.
I show my friends the dining room, the two lounges, and the kitchen, making sure Misha sees all the entrances, then he asks, “Is there a restroom I can use?”
“Sure.” I gesture at a hallway. “It’s on your left.”
He leaves Aurora with me, and when I look at her, she asks, “How are you holding up?” Her eyes widen slightly, then she whispers, “Don’t answer. Your father is coming.”
Smiling brightly, I say, “I’m excited. Have you seen the engagement ring?” I lift my hand, and Aurora pretends to fawn over the diamond.
“Antonio is here,” my father informs me. “Give him a warm welcome.”
Warm welcome, my left tit.
Like a good little girl, I walk to the open front door. Antonio comes up the steps, dressed in an immaculate suit. When he reaches me, he grips my arm and kisses me on both cheeks.
My skin crawls at the contact, and for a horrifying moment, the memory of the rape shudders through me.
I yank away from Antonio, my breath exploding over my lips.
“Abby!” my father roars. “That’s no way to greet your fiancé.” He shakes Antonio’s hand, then apologizes, “I’m sorry. She’ll come around with time.”
