Thoughts of Mr. Stonewood tried to intrude, thoughts of how, blindfolded and scared, I’d never felt more free than I had when I gave up control to the mysterious stranger last night. I shoved them away.
I thought of how safe I felt with each of them, in different ways, and how dangerous that safety had become.
It would be so much easier if I could shrug and laugh and treat this like a game. If I could pick some huge ridiculous ring and play along like everyone else… but that wasn’t who I was.
My throat worked around words that didn’t want to come out.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Jacob’s brows drew together.
“What was that?”
His voice was softer now, meant only for me.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to speak clearly, to own the choice instead of hiding from it.
“Yes,” I said, louder this time. “If this were a real proposal… if any of this were real… I would marry you in a heartbeat, Seven.”
Silence crashed over the room like a wave.
Then, from somewhere to my right, someone scoffed.
“Oh, please,” a female voice snapped. “I don’t care how sappy that was. I would never marry a man who looks like that.”
The words sliced through the moment like a knife.
I jerked my head toward the sound. Number Eleven stood there, clutching a ring that could probably blind someone in direct sunlight, her lip curled in blatant disgust as she looked at Jacob.
Rage flared hot and instant in my gut.
“Then it’s a good thing he’s not proposing to you, isn’t it,” I growled before I could stop myself.
Her head whipped toward me, eyes narrowing.
Across the room, Henry’s expression cooled by about twenty degrees.
“Number Eleven,” he said, voice no longer warm. “You will return your ring to the table and collect your belongings from your room. You and your partner are eliminated from the Game.”
“What?” she sputtered. “For having standards?”
“For assaulting the dignity of a man who volunteered to help this game continue as it should,” he said flatly. “And for revealing that you are exactly the kind of viciously shallow woman our host doesnotwant to marry.”
Her partner shifted uncomfortably beside her, color rising in his cheeks. She opened her mouth like she was going to argue, but the look Henry gave her shut it fast. She all but flung the ring onto the table and stalked toward the door, muttering under her breath.
A low buzz of whispers rose and fell again.
I looked back at Jacob.
His gaze was still fixed on my face, like none of the rest of it mattered. Slowly, carefully, he reached for my left hand.
“May I?” he asked.
I nodded, unable to find my voice.
He slid the ring onto my finger.
It wasn’t a perfect fit — just a hair loose — but I didn’t think it would accidentally slide off. Something about it felt right, like the ring was waiting for me to grow into it, somehow.
