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“I need a break. Emilia is helping them, and I know she could use the help, so …” She nodded at her nail polish. “I’m going to get back to this.”
I grumbled and went into the kitchen, sitting next to Emilia, who was helping Mia with her letters. She was sixteen, and I thought she was so cool. The most mature person I’d ever met, even more mature than Mom sometimes.
“Can you believe Mom?” I said to Emilia quietly. “She wouldn’t even explain anything to me.”
“Are you surprised? She never does.” She smiled down at Mia, who was the cutest six-year-old at the time. “That’s how you write the word ‘dog.’ D-O-G. Got it?”
Mia nodded and tried writing the word herself, even though her handwriting was sloppy and practically illegible.
I looked at Emilia with more interest. “Do you have any sex advice?”
Antonio snickered as Cecilia said, “You’re not supposed to say that word.”
I made a face at her. “What word? Sex?”
She shuddered and turned back to her homework. Francesca didn’t even look up from her book.
Emilia sighed. “Gemma, come on. You know I don’t know any more than you do. When I’m married, I’ll get to experience it, and so will you. Then you’ll know if sex is fun or not.”
I sighed, slumping in my seat and letting my head drop back. “But that sounds miserable. Why do I have to wait until I’m married? I won’t marry until I’m old!”
“When do you think that will be?” Emilia didn’t even look at me as she helped Mia write the word “dog” in a more eligible script.
“Like—like … twenty! I’ll be ancient.”
Emilia laughed and flicked a scrap of paper at me. “Just stop complaining and do your homework. Or, if you don’t, you’ll have to help Antonio with his.” Antonio gave me a wicked grin, cackling loudly. Antonio was notoriously bad at math homework.
I huffed. “Fine. I’ll do my own.” Emilia was the only person who could convince me otherwise.
* * *
I smile at the memory.Life was so much simpler back then. Just my siblings and me goofing around, doing homework, having sleepovers, desperately craving candy. The only thing I had to worry about was what was on my next exam. I never thought I’d have to worry about being forced into a marriage with a fucking psychopath.
And I definitely didn’t think I’d have the hots for said psychopath. Because that’s the truth. Viktor turns me on. I hate it, but it’s how I feel.
I’m not sure how I’m going to survive any of this.
CHAPTER8
Gemma
Itake a deep breath as I try the doorknob. It turns, and the door opens. Viktor didn’t lock me in after he left. He either forgot or is playing a game.
Most likely, he’s playing a game.
Well, two can play it.
I clench the scissors in my hand as I tiptoe down the hallway. It’s dark out, so there’s no natural light coming in from outside, and I don’t dare turn on the lights in the hallway. I can’t alert Viktor I’m coming for him. Because Iamcoming for him.
If he thinks he can force me into a marriage, then he can think again. I’m going to kill him and escape and run away. I miss my family, but I can’t risk going back to them, not with Franco and Mom intent on marrying me off to a stranger. I’ll go to Emilia and get her help, then I’ll be free, making my own way in life. I have no clue how I’m going to do it. I’ve haven’t gotten that far. But I’ll figure it out.
I’m scrappy. If I can survive at the hands of a psychopath for this long, I can figure anything out.
Now, it’s just a matter of finding Viktor’s bedroom. He has to sleep at some point, and it’s the perfect time to strike. He’ll be at his most vulnerable.
My breath catches when I step on a creaky floorboard. I wait for a moment, straining my ears, but there’s no other sound. Viktor doesn’t come running after me. Calming my breath, I continue.
I try the first door on the left, only for it to reveal a bathroom. Disappointing. The door on the other side leads to a closet full of cleaning supplies. That leaves the last door at the end of the hallway. Viktor has got to be in there.
