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But even as the thought crosses my mind, something inside of me knows it isn’t true.
“It’s actually great news.” Mikhail smiles. Silver moonlight glints off of his teeth, turning them into fangs. “You and I are getting married. Tonight.”
32
CORA
“Married?” My hand shifts up to squeeze the locket resting against my collarbone.
The phone Ivan gave me is wedged under my mattress. There’s no way I can get to it and text Ivan in time.
Even if I did text him, I know what would happen.
He’d rush into the house to save me unprepared. He’d try to fight, but Alexander and the Sokolovs would be ready for that. He would die. And it would all be my fault.
So I can’t text Ivan.
But I also can’t leave with Mikhail.
Once we’re married, death will be the only way out: either his or mine. Divorce won’t be an option.
“You knew this was coming. Don’t act surprised,” he says.
“It’s the middle of the night. Of course I’m surprised!” I spit. “Plus, tonight at dinner you all said it would be a few weeks. You said—”
“We have new information now.”
It could be my imagination, but Mikhail’s face seems to sharpen. The angles of his face turn ominous. I’ve never enjoyed looking at Mikhail, but I’ve also never found him scary.
Right now, though, he’s terrifying.
He reaches for me, snagging the sleeve of my t-shirt just as I dodge out of the way. “Come on, Cordelia. It’s time to go.”
“No!” I crawl over the bed and make for the door, but Alexander is still there.
“You aren’t getting out of here, Cordelia,” he says. “Not until we let you.”
“Not until we drag you,” Mikhail amends.
I spin around and look to my mother. This is it: her last shot to be maternal. To take care of me. To save me.Please, my eyes beg.Please don’t let them do this.
Her lips purse. I can see her writhing under the uncomfortable pressure. She doesn’t want to be here doing this.
But then she looks away.
My mom doesn’t mind that I am in danger; she minds only that she is uncomfortable. Her entire life has been about taking care of herself. And that won’t change anytime soon.
Mikhail walks around my bed towards me. “Let’s go. It’s time to—”
Just before he can grab me, I turn and lunge for my bookshelf.
How many times have I practiced sliding the letter opener out of its hiding place? Countless. I’ve pulled it out just to make sure it’s still there. To console myself with the thought that I have a backup plan in case everything goes sideways.
Well, things aren’t just sideways—they are upside fucking down.
I crash into the white set of shelves, crying out at the pain in my shoulder. But there isn’t time to stop. To hesitate. Because Mikhail is on me.
His cold hands wrap around my ankle, tugging me back.
