Page 74 of The Favorite Girl


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Ian Ivory was leaning back in his slightly turned chair. His eyes were closed, and the secret glass wall was exposed. Blinking away tears and shock, I was breathing heavily into my palm. Officer Tate’s wife, Isabella, was strapped to a pole and the two men who took her away were… abusing her.

One was raping her while the other had his hands around her throat, choking her.

Taking one step closer, I saw the massive lotion bottle, tissue box, and… Ian’s hand moving up and down. He was pumping as he moaned in enjoyment. Stumbling back, I realized something.

The smell of popcorn… The popcorn machine in the corner had fresh popcorn popping. This was his form of enjoyment, like how a person goes to the movies or the way someone winds down with a book. Backing away slowly, with chills running across every part of my body, I felt numb.

Ian Ivory had to be stopped. He was the pinnacle of it all. Conrad could be manipulated, and I knew I could change his views. The man I met the first day I worked here had good in him.

I knew what I had to do next.

I have to be the favorite girl, because that’s the only way I’ll never be a caged girl.

“It’s perfect.” Mrs. Ivory clutched her hands together excitedly as I stood on the small platform at a bridal boutique. It felt strange leaving the Ivory estate. We even drove past Raina’s house. I hadn’t heard nor seen her since the time I called the police, and I couldn’t help but almost laugh at that. Now I knew why the police didn’t care. Who knew how many of the police officers had gifted wives in exchange for silence and protection.

“Mrs. Ivory, will the wedding be like Daisy’s?” I paused before turning to see my reflection.

“First of all, call me mother. In a few short days, you’ll officially be my daughter.” She smiled and immediately looked at the two women helping us, then waved them off to leave us in privacy. “Now, what do you mean?”

“Will it be with a bunch of those male… clients? And inside that room?” I held my hands together to prevent them from shaking.

“No. Absolutely not. You will both be wed in the peony garden, and no one will be there besides our family. This is a private, beautiful ceremony. I just can’t believe our time is coming to an end.” Daphne tugged out a small, embroidered handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. I didn’t see any tears, and I knew she was just being theatrical. Was she referring to the fact that Conrad and I were going to take her and Ian’s spots?

“Look at yourself, Demi. Turn around and see why Conrad always chose you.”

“But he didn’t? He chose my sister…” I blew out a breath of air as Daphne’s mouth dropped.

“Who… who told you that?” She looked stunned but didn’t deny it.

“It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t the favorite girl. I was just the next best thing to Layla. But she fell for Trent, her captor. Our captor. She was damaged merchandise, right?” I fought back my tears and held on to the sliver of courage I managed to muster.

Mrs. Ivory stood and walked slowly toward me. Click, click, click. I dropped my eyes to her feet. She must have changed into those heels in the car because I would have noticed the sound.

“Turn around, you ungrateful little bitch,” she hissed at me, forcefully moving me around on the stand.

Closing my eyes tightly, I took a deep breath and slowly opened them. Drawing in a long breath of air, I began to cry. Seeing myself in a wedding gown was something I never thought would happen. I never thought I’d get married. Well, I suppose at one point in time I did. I assumed when I was a very little girl I’d marry my prince charming, but that little fantasy dissipated as quickly as the summer sun soaks up the rain on a sidewalk.

The dress was one Mrs. Ivory had brought to the bridal boutique with us. It was worn by every bride in the Ivory family for generations. We were just here for alterations and accessories.

It was a stunning, yet simple wedding gown. Fitted at the top and flared out with the thick, sheen satin material. There was no beading, design, or anything extravagant about it. Just a clean, simple, exquisite gown. Tucking my short, blonde hair behind my ears I felt overwhelmed seeing myself this way.

Mrs. Ivory’s cold fingers ran down my exposed back before reaching the corset. Tugging the strings aggressively, she jerked them so hard, my upper body flung forward as I choked on my own air.

“Ow!” I slapped my hands on my abdomen as she tightened it to the point the material was cutting into my skin and causing me to cough.

“Listen to me, you unappreciative little girl. You are going to marry Conrad. You are going to be the best wife to him. You are going to bear his child and carry on this family’s name. There are two options for you, Demi.” She knotted the strings into a bow and dug her nails into my arms, pulling me backward into her.

“Option one, be planted in our garden and nurtured as an Ivory family member, or be buried and used as fertilizer. Either way, you’re going to bloom, sweetheart. You just have to decide how.”

My eyes widened at our reflections in the mirror as a smile grew across her nude-painted lips.

“Tell me, what will it be. I need to know if we’re going to need to pick up soil on the way home or not.”

“Option one.” I trembled as my oxygen felt like it was being cut off.

“Smart girl.” Mrs. Ivory’s lips brushed against my skin before she planted a kiss on my shoulder. “Now, let’s pick a veil, shall we?” She clicked her tongue and slid off from the podium.

CHAPTER

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