I hate the man, yet he still haunts my dreams. It’s been years since I’ve seen him, but he’s only gotten more beautiful.
Life is truly unfair, and it’s especially cruel how devastatingly handsome he’s become.
I roll over in bed, hair shoved across my face, reach blindly for my phone on the nightstand, and check the time.
Instead, I see a text.
I freeze so hard my breath cuts out.
Lorenzo: Hope you slept well. You have a long day ahead of you.
My hand goes numb, and my phone almost slips through my fingers.
How does he have my number, but worse . . . how is his number programmed into my phone?
I sit up so fast the duvet tangles around my legs, all while my heart slams into my ribs like it’s trying to break out of me.
I stare at the words again, like maybe they’ll rearrange into something sane.
But they don’t. They sharpen.
What does he think I’m doing today?
“Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening,” I whisper into my empty room, voice cracking.
My palms begin to sweat, and my stomach churns.
I hit the call button for my mother.
She answers in one second—too fast, like she’s been pacing the phone for hours.
“Victoria . . . we have a long day. I need you ready—”
I stand, pacing the edge of my room with the phone pressed to my ear. “I know, Mother. Don’t you think this is crazy? I can’t do it. Don’t make me . . . ”
I stop mid-step when she doesn’t say anything. Did she hang up? “Mom?”
Her exhale comes out broken. “Come downstairs.”
“Mom—”
“Come now.” She hangs up.
My legs nearly give out. She dismissed me without an explanation. Why should this be surprising? It’s basically the story of my life.
Do this, Victoria.
We expect this, Victoria.
For my whole life, I’ve been bossed around and moved around like a pawn. Why should this be any different?
I throw on the first clothes I find in my old closet, a sweater with a stretched neckline and jeans that don’t fit right. I shove my hair into a claw clip with shaking hands.
My mother will loooove my appearance . . .
Within a few minutes, I know today is going to suck. Because before I leave the room, I step toward a window and see the staff rushing across the back lawn carrying white roses and a giant arch made of more flowers.
What the hell is happening?
