Page 122 of Wicked Brutal

“I do.”

“Then behave like it. He shouldn’t have to wonder whether his future wife is happy to see him. You won’t pull away when he touches you. You won’t make him feel as though his affection is unwanted, and you certainly won’t embarrass him by doing either in public.”

“No, sir.”

“You’re eighteen now. Graduation is approaching. This arrangement isn’t something years away that you can continue pretending doesn’t exist.”

“I understand.”

“Today, I expect you to behave like his future wife.”

I swallow. “Yes, Father.”

His expression finally relaxes. “Good.” He picks up his phone, and I’m dismissed as easily as that.

I stand. Mom is still at the counter. Our eyes meet briefly. She heard every word. Of course she did. Neither of us says anything.

The doorbell rings at ten fifty-eight. Dad checks his watch as he crosses the foyer. Two minutes early. Of course Victor Tremblay is early.

I’m reaching for my purse when Mom steps beside me. Dad has his back to us while he unlocks the door, and her hand closes around mine. Something small and hard presses into my palm. I look down. A portable charger.

My eyes snap to hers. “Mom?”

“Put it in your purse.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. "If plans change, I want you to be able to call me.” Something about her expression makes my chest tighten.

“What plans?”

“I don’t know.” The lock turns. Mom glances toward Dad. “Just keep your phone charged.”

“Okay.” Her fingers squeeze mine once. Then the door opens, and she lets go.

Victor steps inside. His attention finds me immediately. “There she is.”

I remember everything Dad said less than an hour ago. Pleasant. Attentive. Happy to see him. I smile. “Hello, Victor.”

He crosses the foyer and takes my hand. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” His gaze moves slowly over the dress before returning to my face..

Victor’s hand moves around my waist and draws me closer. I go without resisting. His mouth touches my cheek first, then the corner of my mouth before he kisses me properly. Brief. Chaste. Entirely acceptable with my parents standing only a few feet away. I make myself return it.

When he pulls back, his thumb brushes my cheek. “I’ve been looking forward to today.”

Dad picks up his coat. “We should go. The reservation is at noon.”

There was never a question of my father coming. A man like Victor Tremblay doesn’t take another man’s unmarried daughter forty-five minutes into Boston without her father accompanying them. That would be improper. Unbecoming. Never mind that Victor decided he wanted to marry me when I was thirteen. Apparently there are rules for these things.

Victor places his hand against my lower back and guides me outside. The town car is waiting in the drive. Dad gets in first. Victor holds out his hand to me, and I take it. Because that’s what a proper future wife does.

The drive into Boston takes around forty-five minutes, and Victor spends most of it with some part of him touching me. My hand stays in his while his thumb moves over my knuckles. His arm stretches behind me when he shifts closer. Eventually his palm settles on my knee. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing anyone could point to and object to. That’s almost worse.

“How is school?” he asks.

I give him a small smile. “I’m ready to graduate.”

“So am I.” His hand tightens around mine. Dad looks over from the opposite seat. Victor smiles. “You can’t blame me, Roman. Five years is a long time.”

“You agreed to wait.”