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“I made a mistake when we tried this the first time,” he says, his voice sharper now, tinged with an edge of vicious anger. “I was too easy on you. Your grandmother promised me you could be controlled, and I took her at her word. I thought you were going to see reason, so I didn’t break you properly. I’m not going to repeat that error, and I’m not going to tolerate any bullshit. Do you understand me?”
My chest goes tight at the way he sounds. There’s true malice in his eyes, something that makes me think of little boys who pull the wings off of butterflies just because they can. He sounds angry—he clearlyisangry—but a part of him also seems almost gleeful, as if he’s looking forward to breaking me like he just promised.
Our gazes lock for a moment, and he drags his tongue over his bottom lip, curling and uncurling his fingers as if he’s debating whether to hit me again. Or maybe whether to hit me with an open or closed fist.
But finally, he pulls his attention away from me and glances over his shoulder at one of his men.
“Cut the ropes,” he snaps.
A hulking man comes forward brandishing a knife, and I flinch back as he slices through the ropes binding my wrists and ankles. Before I can so much as move on my own, the same guy grabs my arm, hauling me to my feet.
Troy and his guards lead me out of the room and to a different part of the house. While we walk, I try to get my bearings, but I have no idea where we are. It’s not Olivia’s house, and I’ve never seen Troy’s before, so I wouldn’t know what it looks like.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to demand to know if he sent more men after the Voronin brothers. The image of Vic crumpling to the ground is etched in my mind, and every time I think of it, I feel bile rise in my throat. I don’t know if that gunshot killed him, or if Malice or Ransom got hit too. I don’t think the Jeep went back for them after I was yanked into it, but I have no idea what happened after I was knocked out.
But I bite the words back, keeping them locked behind my lips. The last thing I need to be doing is reminding Troy of his grudge against the brothers, and as terrified as I am right now, the only upside of the fact that he captured me is that maybe he’ll stop going after them now that they no longer have what he wants.
Beside me, Troy speaks again, and just the sound of his voice is enough to fill me with dread.
“After our first fuckup of a wedding, I decided that this one doesn’t need to be as lavish. Who really cares if everyone who’s anyone is here to witness it, right? And it’s not like you know anyone worth inviting. So we just have one other guest this time.”
He opens a door and we walk into what appears to be a small office. There’s a desk in one corner, and a small leather couch along another wall. Olivia is sitting on the couch with a cup of tea clasped daintily in her hand.
I haven’t seen her since the first wedding, and laying eyes on her now fills me with fear and fury in equal measure.
After everything, my grandmother is still willing to endorse this. She’s still willing to sell me off like a piece of livestock, just so she can get what she wants.
“Hello, Willow,” Olivia says, her voice cool and detached. “I would say you’re looking well, but…”
She sweeps her gaze over me from head to toe and lets the sentence remain unfinished.
My stomach churns just from looking at her. It’s hard to remember a time when her petite stature and perfectly styled gray hair fooled me into thinking she was a kind older woman. She’s probably been wearing that high society mask her entire life, and even though she still wears it impeccably, I know her well enough by now to see past it.
All the way to the monster underneath.
I take a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs. I know that appealing to any sense of humanity she has is probably useless, but I can’t stop myself from trying anyway. The wedding dress is tight around my torso, wrapping around me and only adding to the panicky feeling in my chest.
“Olivia, please,” I say, my voice shaking. “You don’t have to do this. You and Troy can make whatever deals you need to make on your own. You don’t need me for this. Just let me go. I’m begging you.”
Troy snorts, and Olivia’s passive expression doesn’t waver as she shakes her head.
“After all that’s happened, you still don’t understand,” she says.
“That’s not how things work in this world, sweetheart,” Troy adds, his lips curling into a sneer. “You don’t get something for nothing. Sure, I could bail Olivia out and help her crumbling empire, but what would I get out of the deal?”
I ignore Troy, because he’s a lost cause. Appealing to his better nature won’t work because he doesn’t have one. Instead, I focus on Olivia. My grandmother. Someone who’s supposed to love me.
“Please,” I murmur, tears stinging my eyes. “Don’t do this. You know what he’s going to be like. You know what he’s going to do to me.Helpme. Please. We’re supposed to be family.”
Olivia sniffs, taking a sip of her tea. “The time to do each other favors as family has long since passed, I’m afraid. If you had gone into the marriage I arranged for you willingly, it might have been a different story. I would’ve tried to help you learn how to survive and thrive in your role as the wife of a powerful man. But you ran. You made a mockery of everything I tried to do. And so this is what we are left with.”
I swallow hard at the note of finality in her voice. Even though I knew it was an impossible, last ditch hope, something in my heart breaks all over again at her callous words. It’s a brutal reminder that although we share DNA, this woman isn’t my family in any way that counts.
Looking away from me, Olivia fixes her attention on Troy. “Our deal is still in place.”
“Withthe adjustments,” Troy points out, sounding a little petulant. “You said it was going to be a simple marriage, and it definitely wasn’t.”
Olivia waves a hand, a hint of irritation passing over her face. “Yes, yes, with the adjustment. I’ve accepted the forty-five percent.”
