I watch him as he takes two more steps away from me, rubbing the bridge of his nose to gather himself. “I’m not going to do this with you,” he says finally. “This arrangement is not and has never been up for debate. You will stay with me if I have to keep you locked in this room. Do you understand me?”
I don’t say anything. I just stare up at him, wondering what he’s going to do to me next. Without another word, he leaves the room. I hear the locks click in place right afterward.
Bastard. He can’t keep me locked up in here forever, no matter how much he wants to pretend that he can. I’mstillmy own person, dammit. He doesn’t have the control over me that he thinks he does.
I get up and try the door, half thinking that maybe he didn’t actually lock it. The knob doesn’t budge under my grip. I yell out, “You can’t keep me in here forever!”
I don’t hear any response from the other side. I swear, I’ve got a good mind to clock him with one of these night table lamps when he does decide to open this door.
It’s about mid afternoon. I go to the window and open it, looking out onto the skyline of the city. From up here, I can see the lines of the streets below between the buildings all around us. In the distance, I can almost make out the little boxy houses marking the beginning of the suburbs.
I should be on my way to the airport by now. Or maybe I would be standing at the information counter, deciding which city I would escape to. By this evening, I could have been in Paris. OrItaly. Oh, there’s an idea. I have family in Sicily I haven’t seen since I was small, but they’d remember me. They’d take me in and keep me away from all this madness.
I think. For all I know, they could alert my father right away and the next thing I know, I’d be back in the States.
I sit down on the bed, watching the day slide away from me while I’m stuck in this bedroom married to a man I didn’t even choose. This is so fucked up. I hope Annie’s happy wherever she ran off to.
I take my phone out of my pocket and try to call her. I’ve been trying to call her off and on since she left. And since I was shoved into her place, my calls to her have petered off to every couple of days. Before, I was calling to beg her to return. Now, however…
Now, I just want to talk to my big sister. I feel like a stranger in a foreign land right now and I need a friendly voice. Even if she just answers and saysHi, it’ll be enough.
She doesn’t answer, however. The phone rings until it goes to her voicemail, and just as always, it’s automated. I don’t even get a representation of the sound of her voice anymore.
I hang up and try again, only to get her voicemail once more. I hang up, holding the phone in my hand for an impossible amount of time. Then I decide to text her.
“Hey. So… I miss you. I mean, I know you can’t come back. Not that it would matter anymore if you did. Alexei’s father pinned Dad into a corner and they decided that Ishould be the one to marry him in your absence.”
I pause, wondering if she would be interested at all in knowing that. I go on.
“We’ve only been married a day and I’m already looking for a way out. Although I don’t really see one at the moment. You did the right thing splitting when you did. I still miss you, though. I miss my big sister so much.”
My eyes start to sting with tears. At least if she were here, I wouldn’t feel so completely alone. I feel like I’ve been left to die by my family.
I lie down on the bed and set my phone down on the nightstand. If I ever get out of this, I swear I’m going to go as far away as I can from Fortune.
12
ALEXEI
Ican’t fucking sleep on this mattress.
The pullout in my study has always been too thin. I can feel every bit of the steel structure underneath it, including the bar across the middle. It sits against my lower back like I’m sleeping on a jungle gym.
I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I should be in my own bed. Instead, I had the misfortune of being married to a willful little escape artist.
It’s been a week or so since I pinned her to the bed with the threat of fucking her into submission. I’m not proud that I came so close to losing complete control of… well, not just my temper. She pushes all my buttons so effectively, but at the end of the day, she’s a willful little brat who thinks her actions don’t affect the rest of us.
She’s also a brat who cut off all her hair. An interesting choice of rebellion, that was. Her hair wasn’t nearly long enough for my tastes and now it’s shorter than ever. I don’t know what Anyawas thinking by letting her do that to herself. I’ll have to discuss that with her later.
I look over at the clock on my desk. It’s three in the morning. I’ve probably gotten only a couple of hours of sleep so far, I think. I’d have better luck if I’d just opted to sleep on my couch.
Down the hall, just past the open door of my study, I can see my bedroom door. I’ve resorted to keeping the door locked only at night since that day, but I still feel the need to check on her. She hasn’t made a peep since this afternoon. But then again, she’s barely speaking to me otherwise.
It’s not lost on me how very archaic this whole thing has become. This week, I’ve resorted to having Anya come by every afternoon to look after her. I’m always sure to get home before she has to leave now that I know what Isabella is capable of. It’s like we’re coparenting a child. It’s ridiculous. Clearly, Isabella doesn’t have the same sense of loyalty to her father as I do to mine. Or maybe she just doesn’t give a fuck about any of this.
Either way, we can’t go on like this and I’m lost as to how to keep her with me. If she were more of a willing participant, maybe we could strike a deal. I could make sure all her needs were met in exchange for her staying put and available for me.
Available. Hmm. That’s an interesting choice of words.
