“Did you want to take the bikes out?” Pyotr and I like to off-trail at the back of the property on the KTMs.
He slows to check his phone when it vibrates. “I can only stick around for an hour. Some family thing tonight I have to be at.”
“I think you will be interested in what I have to offer.” We stop in unison when we hear a woman’s voice filtering out from Father’s study, but it’s not Mama’s.
The door is slightly ajar, and I quietly venture closer. Peeking through the vertical slit, my obfuscation grows when I discover the last person I’d ever expect standing in front of Father’s desk.
Aoife’s mom.
For a brief second, excitement lights me up. Is she here with her?
Caroline Fitzpatrick’s elegant face burns with fury, her heels rapidly clacking against the polished wood floor as she paces an agitated line back and forth.
“My husband is out of his damn mind if he thinks I will stand by and allow that deranged psychopath anywhere near my daughter.”
The leather executive chair creaks when Father sits forward and rests his elbows on the desktop. “You know there is nothing I can do, Caroline. I have no power or influence with the Council. It’s James’s decision to decide who Aoife marries.”
Marry?
Being nosy, Pyotr pokes his head over mine, eager to eavesdrop. “Who’s getting married?”
“Shut. Up,” I whisper-hiss.
Caroline turns sharply, the sunlight coming through the floor-to-ceiling window turning her light-blonde hair golden. “She can’t be promised to Tristan if she’s already promised to someone else.”
Hearing my half-brother’s name, that he’s the person Aoife will be forced to marry one day, sends a fire of rage shooting through me.
“Who—” Pyotr starts to ask, and I reach up and cover his mouth.
Father steeples his fingers and taps his forefingers together. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
Taking out a manilla envelope from her carry bag, Caroline slaps it down onto the desk. “I already had the papers drafted. All you have to do is sign.”
With a shrewd, calculating gleam in his eyes, he opens the envelope and pulls out the contents, quickly scanning each page.
“You’ve always wanted a seat at the table, Nikolai. This is your way in.”
Father glances up, a sly curve to his lips that wasn’t there before. “Other than your daughter, what does Aleksander get out of it?”
Me? She wantsmeto marry Aoife?Holy shit.
“Holy shit!” Pyotr parrots my thoughts, but I’m too dumbstruck to tell him to be quiet.
Caroline removes the gold Montblanc pen from its stand and holds it out to Father. “As Aoife’s husband, he will get to rule an empire by her side, and there will be nothing anyone can do to stop it.”
Father slips the pen from her fingers. “James could have you killed for this.”
Caroline fiddles with the pearls on her necklace as she stares out the window. “James would never hurt me.”
“Can you say the same about Francesco?”
Pyotr and I duck out of sight when she twists around. “Just sign the fucking papers,” she snaps.
Lowering into a crouch, I take a chance and peer around the doorjamb again. Time suspends for one breathless, unbelievable second as I watch Father’s hand scribble out his signature, forever binding me—to her. To Aoife. The girl who haunts my every thought, whose laughter I can recognize in a crowdedballroom, and whose smile unravels me with its heart-stopping beauty.
My heartbeat pounds in my ears with disbelief and something dangerously close to happiness. Fate has decided to alter my path, and for the first time, my destiny doesn’t feel like a chain shackled around my life, intent on drowning me.
For the first time, I look forward to the future.
