No, I fucking didn’t, but I couldn’t deny it now. Not with his glare burning into the side of my face.
As Gaven backed away and released my hand, the hard, beckoning stare of my father told me what I already knew. This was all a farce. Gavin's request was merely an illusion. Thereality was that the choice had already been made for me, so I gave the only answer I could, the words feeling like acid on my tongue.
“Fine,” I snapped. “Yes. I’ll go to dinner.” And that was where I’d start to make him regret his choice.
Chapter 3
Angel
Dreams were fragile creatures, so easily damaged, so easily cast aside. I was beginning to learn that. My dreams of going away to college and leaving behind this life—a life bathed in crime and secrets—seemed as far away as ever as I walked through the estate to the front, where I would wait to be picked up by Gaven Belmonte.
After the meeting in my father's office the day before, Jackie had stormed off, her mood having turned foul for some unknown reason. She'd been perfectly amused to hear of my arranged marriage, but now she seemed more upset by it than even I was. And I wasplentyupset over it. The man my father had chosen was handsome, and a part of me felt as though I should've been grateful for that small consolation, but it couldn't erase the fact that I didn't know him or that I would forever be tethered to this family and its cruel intentions.
I closed my eyes and sucked in a harsh breath as I contemplated turning my ass right back around and going back up to my room to lock myself inside. It would be a child’s tantrum, but I felt like throwing one right now. All of my carefully laid plans were being ruined, and the man—Gaven—didn’t seem all that concerned with the fact that I had no interest in marrying him.
"Miss." My eyes opened as Bruno, one of my father’s closest men, approached me. "Mr. Belmonte's here. He's waiting in the sitting room."
“I see..” I glanced down at my dress before smoothing the slightly wrinkled sides, the movement giving me something to do. Unlike Jackie, I didn’t wear dresses too often—much preferring jeans and shirts to her tightly fitted designer outfits. Right now, I felt out of place in the dress even though it wasn’t nearly as tight and flowed down my thighs in light folds of fabric. I reached up and touched my curled hair. I hadn’t wanted to make any more effort than necessary, but Gertrude wouldn’t hear of it, so she’d spent the better part of a few hours styling my hair into soft curling waves and painting my face with far more makeup than I usually wore.At least it was all natural looking, I reminded myself. I’d rejected any harsh colors and gone for neutrals.
The fidgeting and adjusting allowed me to hide the slight tremble in my hands that Bruno would probably report to my father, to note how theengagementwas developing. Swallowing the lump that formed in my throat, I forced my gaze back on him. "Thank you, Bruno."
Bruno nodded, his eyes following me as I moved past him. The place where Gaven waited was a room my father often invited guests. Gaven was different, in any case. Just as my father had said, he was no guest. He would soon be the next head of the Price Family. This man knew what that meant. He knew who my father was, knew what he did, and I could only assume that meant he was just like him.
Since my mom passed and I discovered what the family business actually was, I’d kept careful watch over who my father invited into our innermost estate—some he seemed to care forand some he seemed to despise. I’d come to learn that he invited them all, whether they were friends or enemies, because the best way to deal with enemies was to keep them just as close, if not closer. My only question now was …Which one is Gaven Belmonte to me?
I remembered how my father spoke of him the day before. He’d called Gaven afriend, but it was hard to know anyone’s true motives in this life. If he was a potential enemy, then he'd just been offered the keys to the kingdom, and I was part of the consolation prize.
As I entered the sitting room, Gaven turned away from the window and offered me a smile. It was a careful smile, one meant to reassure, but the only way he could have reassured me was by calling this whole farce off. I doubted that he would, though. That would be all too easy for me, and I’d come to know that life was anything but easy.
"Hello, Angel.”
"Hello..." I let my reply drift as I lowered my eyes. He’d worn a suit similar to the one I’d first seen him in. Dark colors to his lighter skin with a black button down, yet no tie. My eyes scanned even further down to the black box he held in his hand, and a jolt of worry constricted my chest at the sight of the package. "What's that?"
His smile deepened into one that felt more real as he held it up. "I thought it'd be nice to bring you a gift for our first date since your father couldn't be here to see you off."
"He's working. I'm used to it," I said with a small shrug, trying to soothe all the ridiculous ideas my brain conjured that could have been hisgift. Still, curiosity had me reaching for the box as he held it out to me. "Can I open this now?" I asked, lifting my gaze once more to meet his as I fingered the top of the mysterious package.
He nodded. "I'd like it if you could wear it while I search for something more suited to your tastes." He paused, and almost as if he couldn't help himself, he added, "And mine."
Frowning, I pinched my fingers under the lid of the small box and then opened it. My lips parted when what was inside was revealed. I stared down at the diamond choker with surprise. It was a single slender gold chain so finely woven that the links were almost indiscernible. Every inch or so was a diamond, and from the way they glittered—perfectly clear and unclouded—I could tell that they were real, as real as anything my father might have given my mother.
I glanced back up at him, my chest tight. "This is too much," I said uncomfortably.
More than that, it was clear what this was. A declaration of ownership. I shuddered at the thought but couldn’t pinpoint whether or not I was put off by it or intrigued. Perhaps if Gaven and I had met the old-fashioned way, I’d be more keen to accept, but that wasn’t how our relationship had come to be. I tried to hand the box back. “I’m sorry, I can’t accept this.”
"It's not enough," he replied, never losing that careful mask of his as he pulled back without taking the box. “I should have known you wouldn’t care for something so simple. Please keep it and I will look for something better.” His words were almost enough to make me want to scream. I was being forced to marry this man, an elusive and secretive stranger, and yet he acted as if he’d known me my whole life. Or, at the very least, as if he could guess my likes and dislikes without having spent so much as a singular week in my presence.
"I'm sure it's very expensive," I said, trying again to return the box to him. "But I don’t think it’s appro?—"
"Think of it as an engagement gift.” A scowl formed on my face at his words. An engagement gift? He couldn’t be serious. "I haven't been able to go shopping for a ring yet,” he admitted.
A ring. For me. Because that's what a couple who were engaged to be married did—they exchanged rings. I'd probably have to look for one for him too. I stopped trying to hand the necklace back to him.This is really happening.
Not only was I really going to marry someone who my father had chosen to take over the family, but it was also becoming an inevitability that the rest of my life would likely develop into something like this. This man bringing me gifts, commanding me, watching me with those … penetrating eyes of his.
"Here." Gaven moved closer. "Let me help you put it on."
Without an excuse for why he shouldn’t, I found myself standing silent and frozen as he removed the diamond choker from the black box and lifted my hair. His fingers brushed my skin, shockingly warm as he circled my neck with the jewelry and clasped it into place. The gold and diamonds felt cold against my skin. Somehow, it became heavier the longer it rested there—weighted and meaningful.
