Page 239
“Prove that you’re sorry,” I say. “For trying to force yourself on me.”
When Edwin hears that, he steps closer to Toby, ready to kill him on the spot. I pull back Edwin’s elbow until he lets go.
As soon as he’s free, Toby holds his arm against his chest to massage his hand. Then he looks up at me, fighting to swallow all that pride and anger.
Slowly, as if he really has to think this over, he gets on his hands and knees in front of me. Then he leans in to kiss the toe of my black pump.
“Please. I’ll do anything you want.”
Standing above him, I turn my attention to the crowd of people. Some have noticed him on the floor. Others pretend not to look, which only makes it more obvious that they’re looking.
And then I spot them.
Across the ballroom, my parents stand with two other couples, drinks in hand, laughing at something my father said. He’s in a tailored tux that tries to scream money. My mother wears a red dress that begs for attention.
They look untouched by grief.
It’s been two months since I was taken from my bed and dragged into the night, terrified and wondering if I would ever see home again. Wondering if I even cared.
Two months since I lost Asher. I hope that somehow he knows how much he changed my life by sending me to Edwin.
I step on Toby’s hand as I pass him without an answer. My feet keep moving when he tries to pull my attention back. I focus on the click of my heels and let the rhythm carry me straight to the people who tried to ruin me.
My father notices first. His smile dies in the middle of a laugh. Then it resets automatically, the way all his expressions do when he remembers he has an audience. He steps forward with his arms opening as if I’m a miracle.
“Zaiya?” He injects emotion into his voice. “Oh my God, Zaiya! We thought…”
He wraps me in a hug, pressing me against his chest. My arms stay at my sides. I look past his shoulder at my mother with a blank face.
She stares at me like she’s seeing the ghost that’s been haunting her. Then her face rearranges itself into the correct expression for the occasion.
“Zaiya,” she breathes, stepping in to take over the hug I refuse to return. “I can’t believe it. We got news that… well, that you had…”
“That I had killed Asher and myself?”
Her eyes drag over my dress. Over my skin. Over the version of me standing here like something expensive that no longer benefits her.
“We don’t need to talk about that right now.” She glances around the room nervously. “I’m just thankful to have you back.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
She notices Edwin. The change in her is subtle enough that most people might miss it, but I don’t. A flicker of calculation. A sting of jealousy. A hunger for powerful men she can never hide.
“And who’s your friend?” she asks, too brightly.
Edwin takes her hand like he’s greeting a stranger, not a woman who helped build my cage.
“Edwin Crotavere,” he says.
My father’s face tightens. He knows that name.
“My love,” I say, looking up at him with a sweet smile.
My mother swallows hard, unable to say what I know she’s thinking with so many people around. Her eyes stay on Edwin as if she’s imagining him next to herself instead of me, wishing the universe offered her a man like that rather than the one she chose.
A man beside my father leans in with curiosity. “This is your daughter?” he asks before addressing me. “It was all over the news that you were in an accident with your brother. Are you alright?”
My father’s animated face overcompensates. “Yes, yes.” His hand clamps onto my shoulder, right over a scar left behind by the dagger. “Where have you been? What happened?”
