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Declan
Yes, say yes. Say you are engaged to her sister."No, I’m not," I say through gritted teeth.
A breath whooshes out of her, some of the tension in her shoulders seems to fade. I glance down at the ring on her left hand. "You, however, are engaged to the man she loves."
She blinks, but other than that, there’s no other visible reaction on her features. Did she already know? Did she suspect that Olivia loves Massimo?
"You don’t seem surprised?" I place my palm flat on the table.
She looks away, then back at me. "I saw the way they looked at each other, so no… I’m not surprised."
"You’re still going to marry him?" Anger squeezes my chest so hard I see flashes behind my eyes. Jesus Christ, why is the thought of her marrying someone else winding me up so much?
"I—" She lowers her chin. "I’m not sure what to do."
"You still trying to do what your family asks of you?"
She jerks up her head. "They’re my family. I love them. Of course, I’m going to follow what they say. Besides, it’s not like I have a choice. I’m dependent on them. If I refuse what they ask of me, they’ll disown me."
"Would that be so bad?"
Something sparks in her eyes, lending them the brilliance that had entranced me from the beginning. Then, just as suddenly, it fades away, leaving a bleakness. "Yes. No. I don’t know. This was supposed to be the happiest time of my life—being engaged, planning my wedding, looking toward the future—now I’m not so sure."
Her eyes gleam with moisture, and my heart stutters. A hot sensation twists my insides and a hollowness yawns in my stomach. Goddamn her. From the moment I came across her fighting to get away from those men on the beach, a part of me has belonged to her. I knew her only for thirty-six hours, but it was enough to change the course of my life. I raise my hand and touch the jagged scar on my forehead. I wasn’t lucky that day. The injuries I suffered that day left their mark on me, in more ways than one. It’s why I’m here—to make her pay. And I can’t forget that—no matter how much her proximity affects me.
"Don’t bother with those fake tears. They don’t affect me."
"They’re not fake," she sniffles.
"They were fake that day when you thrust yourself between me and your brother, when you accused me of something I hadn’t done."
"Y-you’re never going to let me forget that, are you?"
"Nope." I make a popping sound at the end of the word. "Not as long as I live, babe."
She swallows, then locks her fingers together on the table. "I deserve that. What I did to you was wrong. But I was only fourteen."
"Old enough to have reached the age of consent in your country, so clearly, you knew what you were doing when you tried to climb me like a tree."
"It was teenage hormones," she bursts out.
"And is it hormones that’s making you want to continue your engagement with a man who’s in love with another?"
"Th-that’s duty." She sighs. "B-besides, what choice do I have? I can refuse to marry him, but that’s not going to make a difference. It’s not like I c-can run away."
It’s the first time her stammer is evident. I noticed it when I went to her room that day, but assumed she'd overcome it. Apparently, it only arises when she is in a state of high emotion, like now.
"And if you could?" I drag my thumb under my bottom lip. "What if I gave you a way out?"
"Eh?" She scrutinizes my features and asks, "What are you saying?"
"You wanted to become a singer, if I recall."
"Childish dreams," she scoffs.
"I heard you that day on the beach. You have a unique voice."
She raises a shoulder. "Lots of people are talented; doesn’t mean they all get to use it or make a career out of it."
