“Of course, as I promised. I’m not my father, and I’m just doing what should have been done years ago. I’m sure that this alliance will be beneficial to all parties involved.”
My heart thunders in my ears and my vision darkens around the edges of my sight as I try to not have a panic attack, or crawlout from under this desk to tear my brother apart. Not that I could; Anthony is very different from my pàpa, I don’t think he would second guess raising a hand to me.
My only value to him is as a bargaining chip. I expected this, but it still doesn’t make it hurt any less. What could I have done differently? Is there any universe where Anthony and I are truly siblings, where he doesn’t hate me?
It doesn’t matter, because in this one he wants to sell me off for his own gain. I refuse to be used. This is my body, my life. This should be my decision. My father always told me I had a choice. I suppose maybe that’s the issue—Anthony was never going to let me make that choice. He was born and bred to take over the empire. I hate that I can still have empathy for him when he has absolutely none for me.
Anthony ends the call but doesn’t leave the room. I pray that he doesn’t round the desk and attempt to sit, only to find me hiding here. The clank of crystal against wood makes me jolt, but fortunately, I don’t make a noise as he sighs and leaves the room.
I stay under the table, not getting up as tears begin to flow down my face. I mourn my pàpa, the life I had, and the future that’s being ripped away from me. I pull my purse into my lap, gathering some tissues to clean myself up with, when my fingers graze the sharp metallic card Carmen handed to me.
I pull it out and flip it over to read the opposite side.
The name and phone number are written in bright red foil:Travis McConell, General Manager, 702-683-9831.The address is right on the boulevard, and I shake my head, tapping the card against my forehead before pulling out my phone to Google the address.
The website is fancy, and the description goes on about how it’s a luxurious club for members only, or by invitation of current members. It’s called the High Roller. There are no pictures ofwomen on the screen, but there is a promise that they have the most beautiful Omegas in the country working at the facility.
It’s a sex club?
No, it’s a high end fucking brothel.This is Carmen’s suggestion for me?This is where she thinks I’d be better off instead of beside my brother, or being shipped off to some pack who won’t even love me.
I’ve seen how arranged marriages work in this lifestyle, they’re sad and lifeless. I don’t want that for myself. I don’t want to be confined in a nest and used for breeding purposes alone. Many of these men aren’t faithful, and I can’t even think about some of the abuse that happens behind closed doors. I’m not against staying in the life—it’s all I know, after all—but it should be my choice. Who I decide to bond and spend the rest of my life with shouldn’t be in the hands of a man who barely knows me, let alone dislikes me.
I’m not a prude, not by any means. But am I seriously considering going to work at a club where I might have to do God knows what over being married off to some strange pack?
I absolutely am.
I’d rather enjoy myself, and make money while getting off than ever be used as a bargaining chip. I’m Matteo Amante’s daughter, and I think it’s about time I learn what that truly means.
2
ELENA
Knuckles rasp against my door.I know my eyes are blotchy from crying all night—it’s not a cute look—but I open the door anyway to find Logan.
His face searches mine, and he goes to reach for me but pulls back at the last minute.
“I have to go with your brother. Can we talk tonight? Everything will make more sense, I promise.”
My eyebrows furrow, but I nod my head. Obviously, Logan knows about me being married off, maybe Anthony tasked him with being the one to tell me about my arranged marriage. But it doesn't matter anyway because, by the time they get back, I’ll be gone already.
Logan reaches out, his hand pressing against the side of my face. My body responds immediately to him as I press my face against his warm hand. I’m going to miss him above all else.
“Everything is going to be okay, princess, I promise,” he reassures.
It’s a lie, because nothing is okay. A part of me wilts inside knowing that Logan is okay with me being married off, that this is unrequited. Can Alphas really just easily offer someone this much comfort without having any feelings involved?
“Okay, Logan,” I say, not wanting to say much else and risk him picking up on the fact that I have something planned.
“If I didn’t need to be there, you know I’d stay here with you, right?”
I nod my head, feeling a fresh batch of tears working their way up, but I push them down. Why couldn’t Logan just want me back? I have this fantasy where he stands up to my brother and runs away with me.
I don’t dare tell him my plan or even ask him to be my accomplice because I know he wouldn’t agree.
It’s selfish, but I lean forward and wrap my arms around his waist, inhaling his scent one more time. I memorize its richness and how comforting it is. I’ll never scent Logan again, and the thought is disheartening.
He holds me back, rubbing his large hand down my spine.
