Page 5

“As long as you behave until after the wedding, then I don’t care.” Have you ever cared?

I nodded, took the last bite of my sausage, and stood, unsteady on my feet but with a methodical mind. I needed a way out of this sham setup they had planned. My father and brother won’t win this one.

My nerves danced against my skin as I made my way to my bedroom. Every step of my heels clicking on the marble floor was an alert to my whereabouts. My skin tingled as I passed each of the family’s guards. It explained the sudden and dramatic shift in their attention this morning. I was being sold off to someone, and they all knew it. I had no allies willing to stand up to my father, but I’d find a way out of this fake marriage.

The moment I closed my bedroom door, relief didn’t come like I expected. I thought by breaking away from my guards and family that the tension in my chest would lighten, but it had only intensified. The pressure sent me to the carpet, knees buckling as my back rested on the door.

I sat there as my heart pounded, thoughts a complete mess as I tried to understand I had less than seven full days left of my freedom. Then I would be tied to a total stranger who obviously made some corrupt deal with my father. Knowing the bastard, my future husband was at least twice my age, probably three times as long as he got a good price.

Price.

I was a sale item. I scoffed. “Would he have to pay taxes on the sale?” I shook my head as my tears coated my cheeks and a biting laugh escaped my throat.

I pressed my head against the door and closed my eyes, letting the weight of my lids calm me down. Slowly my heart rate settled and my shoulders relaxed. All the tension in my muscles eased. The shock of today still sat front and center, but at least my body calmed down.

I stood up and nearly fell on my ass, but I caught the wall and stabilized myself. My legs had fallen asleep, so I braced myself as they woke up, tingling and tightening with that uncomfortable pain. Anxiously, I walked over to my bed that wouldn’t be mine for much longer and plopped my body face down, groaning as I hit the mattress.

Sleeping suddenly felt like the best idea in the world. I rested for several hours before the housekeeper knocked on my door.

“Mari, your father wants to speak with you.” He can fuck off.

“Tell him I’m sleeping.”

“He said he didn’t care what you were doing. He needs to speak with you.” I huffed and slinked out of bed and then made my way downstairs.

She followed behind me; she cleared her throat several times as if she was going to say something. Still, she hadn’t bothered saying a word. The house felt eerily calm, sending a chill down my spine.

“There you are. Do you think you can lie about all damn day?” he barked out as I stepped off the last step.

I no longer felt any sense of familial loyalty or love for the man, and my attitude showed. “No, I was deciding how I’d look in my casket.”

“You better stop with that talk.” I rolled my eyes. Was he going to knock me out for talking like that? I was trying to sleep away my fate; a quick nap from him might do the trick.

“Why—is the engagement off?” I asked with a smirk etched on my face.

“No. Don’t act up.” His fists balled up like he wanted to send me into next week, but he held back. I’d gotten smacked down for an improper good morning. Maybe he couldn’t damage the bride before the ceremony.

“Should I be jumping for joy?” I continued. “Or maybe we can throw an engagement party.”

“Girl, you’re testing my patience. When did you become so defiant?” I rolled my eyes again.

“What do you want me to say? You’re selling me off to a stranger, and you expect me to be happy? You’re lucky I haven’t slit my wrists or jumped off of the third-floor balcony.”

“Enough. You are always so damn dramatic.” There was that word again. Two times in one day. I’d been traded to a man I didn’t know, and I was supposed to be thrilled about the sale.

“So, you summoned me?” I asked, wanting his ridiculous questions to stop.

“Yes. Tomorrow you meet with the planner sent over by your husband. He expects everything to be ready by next Saturday.” I nodded.

“Anything else?” He huffed and glared, lips turning into a slit. My backtalk wasn’t appreciated.

“Stop being a little cunt,” my brother said, walking up behind me.

“Stop being a fucking loser.” My reply came out faster than any of them expected.

“That’s not the language of a young lady. You’re a Rosetti lady; I demand you remain proper.”

“No, I’m no more than one of your stocks, or all the shit you traffic.”