Victoria
By the timethe grandfather clock in the hall chimes, indicating it’s seven, I’ve already changed outfits three times and fantasized about faking my own death twice.
Apparently, neither plan is acceptable.
Which sucks.
Unlike Juliet, I have no way of making it look believable, and with my luck, I’d one hundred percent accidentally kill myself for real.
Running away is another option.
If I jumped out my window, it’s a straight shot to the backyard. I bet I could be miles away before anyone realizes I’m gone.
Who am I kidding? This place is probably locked down like Fort Knox. I won’t be able to make it out of my bedroom, let alone the house.
Take my mother right now . . .
She currently stands right in front of me, fussing with the sleeves of a black silk dress I don’t remember owning. “Stop slouching,” she smooths a wrinkle that doesn’t exist. “He’ll be here any minute.”
“He,” I echo, catching her gaze in the mirror. “You mean the monster who bought my life like he went online and ordered a bride?”
Her fingers pause. “Victoria, please.”
I arch a brow. “Which part am I supposed to be polite about? The financial collapse or the arranged marriage?”
Her mouth flattens in displeasure.Sorry, I don’t feel bad for you, Mom.“We need this dinner to go well. Lorenzo insisted it be . . . civil.”
I snort. “His version of civil involves arson and threats. Or did you forget he apparently works for the Mafia now?”
A hollow laugh escapes her. “And that is why you have to play nice.”
This is all too much.
I’m pissed and angry, yet I can't do anything about it.
Not unless I want my fiancé to put out a hit on my parents.
Well . . .
No. I don’t want that. Even if they suck as parents, I’d never wish them harm, nor would I sell them, but I digress.
With a shaky breath, I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
I might look pretty, but I want to gag. Even though I recognize the girl in the mirror, she’s not me.
A knock sounds at the bedroom door.
Helen’s voice floats through, tight and formal. “Miss Victoria. They’ve arrived.”
They.Who the hell is they? Did he bring the rest of the mob? I hope not. I’m not sure I can handle that. One criminal is enough for me.
My mother grabs my shoulders. “Remember your manners.”
I shrug her hands off. “He ruined us. You sold me. What’s the etiquette for that, exactly? Do I curtsy?”
Her jaw clenches, but she doesn’t respond.
Good.
