“So, Miquel,” mom spoke up, ignoring my father’s glare her way. “What makes you want to marry my daughter?” I looked up, waiting for the answer. I kind of wanted to know, too.
“Why not?” he replied in return. His dark eyes hid his emotions, but I knew he was not the man that would hold my safety in his hands. He would easily be the one that caused the pain.
“Lynn,” father warned her, telling her to not continue on her questioning.
“She has the right to ask,” Miquel spoke. I wasn’t sure where he was originally from, but his voice had some sort of slight accent. “Your daughter is lovely, and would be an amazing person to have on my arm as I attend events and meetings.”
Ah, so there was so much more, but he wanted arm candy. I couldn’t help but smirk, not surprised at his words. There was more to it, I could tell. He was surprised for some reason when he first saw me, but now, he acted as though he had everything planned out.
“Although, she looks nothing like either of you,” he did point out. “Makes it so much appealing.” His eyes widened in thrill.
“She is my blood,” father spoke darkly. “Does it matter if she’s not like us?”
“Well, yes it does,” he said, setting down his fork he had been using to eat with. “I don’t want to step on toes if she’s not yours to give.” He talked as if I was a piece of property!
“She’s mine,” father repeated, trying to put an end to the topic.
Miquel looked between the three of us with calculating eyes, thoughts surely swirling in his mind of the possibilities. He was hard to read and almost seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind on if he wanted me or not now that I was in front of him.
“No, she isn’t,” he stated, sitting up straight with a pleased smile on his face. “Maybe Lynn’s, if she had an affair, but she looks nothing like either of you.”
“No such thing!” father shouted, standing up from his chair, a look of pure rage on his face. “How dare you question her lineage!”
“Then you either bought her, or stole her, and hope to regain any money that you have lost in doing so,” Miquel said in a near laugh. He looked over at me, my forearms upwards. As his eyes darkened and glared at my arm, Miquel knew. What would he do now? Would he leave the issue be? Walk away and never be here again? Or would he fight to take me?
“She is marked, taken already,” he said, roughly grabbing my arm and pulling me towards him, taking a closer look. I could feel his fingers dig into my skin, leaving his own temporary mark. I wished that I had not had to wear this dress, knowing I couldn’t hide the stupid mark forever but wanted to so badly.
“Of course, she isn’t,” father replied hotly, but yet confused.
“She is marked. No wonder why all the other men have backed out,” Miquel said, pushing me away just as roughly. Good thing I was sitting, or I would have fallen. Although, I was positive that no one really cared about my wellbeing in this house. Least of all father.
My father took that moment to stomp around the table and take ahold of my arm, inspecting the burn mark that was clearly seeable through the now red marks left by the man. I had yet to figure out what the design was. It was covering a capitalMwith swirls and loops. His expression turned from disbelief to furious in a matter of milliseconds.
“How dare you,” father hissed, his hold tightened as his eyes darkened further. I was used to his hands on me in such a manner. Normally, mom would stand in, and she’d take most of his anger. This time, I was alone in my sorrow, in my pain. “When did this happen?”
“I didn’t know,” I said, lying through my teeth. I shook my head as tears began to leak from the corners of my eyes. Surely, I could pass my lie easily enough.
“You never were able to lie well,” he seethed into my face as he neared even closer. “Disrespectful brat.”
“Cody,” mom said, her voice covered in unshed tears. Like me, she learned that tears were never a good thing in this household.
“Stay out of this Lynn,” father said, shooting a hot filled glare her way, instantly making her shut her mouth. Turning back to me, “No wonder why Zachariah was so intent on seeing you himself so soon. He marked you, didn’t he?”
“No,” I cried out, telling the truth. “He didn’t know, I swear.”
“That is his mark!” Miquel said in a way to egg my father onward. “I’ve seen it more than enough times to know. It’s no secret to who the Melendez family is.”
“Don’t lie to me!” father seethed in rage.
“Gemini,” I cried, begging my father to drop it. Begging for him to stop. “He . . . he did it. He planned to give me to someone else when he tired of me.” Tears fell from my eyes as I spoke the words.
“He’s dead,” father glared at me, squeezing my arm tighter with each second that ended as my mother tried, but failed, to contain her sobs from the other side of the table.
“He is,” I confirmed.
I was cut off from saying anything else as father quickly released my arm in a fit of rage, knocking me out of the chair and onto the floor. He had never been quite this rough with me before. What was going on in his head? Did I even want to know?
I stared up at him in shock, not sure what to do. He hid secrets just as much as I did, if not more.
