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But I can’t help the growing premonition in my chest. What if the guards told him about my late return yesterday? They don’t usually do that, but if they were in a bad mood…well, it’s not too bad anyway. I’ll just have to tell him that I spent a couple of hours in a bar. Father won’t like it, but it’s better than the truth.
When I reach the heavy dark door of his cabinet, I take a deep breath and knock on the door. Father hums something that sounds like an invitation, so I push the door open and carefully step inside.
“Did you want to see me, sir?”
Father looks up at me from the stack of papers on his desk and waves his hand. “Come in, Alexandra. I have a couple of questions for you.”
A couple ofquestions? Shit. I swallow and walk closer to the desk with my heart immediately picking up its pace. If he wants to ask me something, it means that I’m not here to get another task. I’m here to answer for whatever mistake he knows about.
“So first, tell me where you were last night.” He gets up from his chair with a quiet huff and slowly walks toward me as if I don’t know what he’s gonna do next.
I instinctively tense up from inside, ready for a strike at any moment, and respond as calmly and confidently as possible, “I went to a bar in West Town and had a couple more drinks than—”
Father’s palm lands right on my cheek, and I tighten my lips and swallow the rest of the sentence. Okay, I guess he knows more than I expected. But he doesn’t stop there. As soon as I turn back to him, Father swings his palm and slaps my other cheek, and this time the diamond on his ring tears my skin. The sting brings tears to my eyes, and I bite my lip, trying to keep them in.
“How dare you lie me in the eyes?” Father hisses, grabs my shoulders, and shoves me into the wall. My shoulder takes the impact, so it’s not that bad. I only hum through my tight lips, but he seems to catch it nevertheless. “What, does it hurt? You should be thankful I didn’t break your bones, you damn whore.”
Oh, I am. I push myself up against the wall and look at him, breathing through my nose. I’m so fucking thankful.
“The Messinas called me this morning,” Father says with a calmer tone, turning around as if nothing happened and walking to his desk to grab a pack of cigarettes. “Riccardo said they’d offered you a deal, and you dared to refuse.”
I look away and purse my lips, clenching my hands into fists. Has Louis told Riccardo about his offer? What an asshole. His stupid ideas could cost me my life!
“Now, you, Alexandra, should be glad that Riccardo decided to reach out to me.” Father turns on his heels and lights up a cigarette, looking at me with a pleased squint. “We had a lovely chat, and the matter has been resolved.”
Resolved? I frown and push myself off the wall, holding onto my sore shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that your wedding is next Friday.”
What the fuck?
For a moment I can’t even move or say anything, frozen in the wave of shock. It must be a joke. What is he talking about? But when I see a smirk on Father's face, I realize that he’s more than serious, and something inside of me bursts.
“No, I’m not gonna marry him,” I raise my voice, stepping toward him with a rush of agitation.
“Alexandra,” Father says with a quiet threat, giving me a cold look with his lips turned downward. But screw that, he can’t scare me now. We are talking aboutmy life!
“No, I don’t care if you or anyone else thinks it’s a good idea.”
I point my finger at him, storming forward, unable to slow down even when I catch a glint of maniacal anger in his eyes. But my heart is raging, the ground under my feet is shaking, and I feel like the whole world is against me. I don’t want that, it can’t be true! He can’t just…give me to Louis like a toy!
“You can’t do that to me, you can’t force me to sign the papers!’
“You’re right,” Father says in a dangerously quiet voice, and I stop in my tracks, unsure what to think of it. Is he agreeing with me?
Using my surprise, Father moves forward and snatches my hand in the air, squeezing my fingers so hard that they hurt. I’m not ready for it, and unconsciously I allow my genuine reaction to slip through: I wince and instinctively try to pull my hand back. I hate giving Father the pleasure of seeing my pain.
“I can’t force you to marry Louis Messina,” he hisses, pulling me closer to him and twisting my finger so hard it feels like it’s gonna break any moment. “But I can force your son to spend his days in the basement until you, my dear, come back to your senses.”
What? No, he can’t do that,not again! I look at him with wide eyes while a wave of terror runs through my entire body.
I remember Misha’s face when Father let him out of the basement, dirty from dust and swollen from tears. He did it to punish Misha for failing his exams in second grade, and I still can’t forgive myself for not being able to stop him.
“So what?” Father chuckles and breathes a puff of smoke into my face. “Do you still want to test my patience?”
Chapter 7 - Louis
God, I still can’t believe that this is happening. Being married has always been an idea so far removed from reality—but here I am, in a tailored suit, a boutonniere in my jacket, watching guests arrive for my own wedding.
