Page 36

I expected Lev to return and give me grief, but I don’t know if he came home last night. I don’t care. Last night was a small moment of reprieve.

Tonight, however…

Well, that may be another story.

Tonight will be our wedding night, and the monster I’m about to marry has already painted very dark colors in my mind about what that may look like.

A slight knock on the door snaps me out of my stupor. The handle turns and the door opens.

Relief floods me when I see my mother’s face, but then my stomach twists violently when my gaze falls on my father in a wheelchair behind her.

Bruises mar his face and he looks as if he’s aged by at least a hundred years.

My breath catches and my brain stalls. I look back at Mama, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the puffiness in her face. God knows how much she must have cried and lost sleep to look like that.

Lev did this.

They come in. Mama first. Papa has one of his guards pushing the wheelchair. Behind them is Roman, one of Lev’s senior guards.

No one speaks.

Roman cuts me a sharp glance. “You have twenty minutes. I’ll be back to get you, and we’ll head to the hall together.”

He doesn’t even wait for my answer before he leaves. I’m not even offended. Two days around these people, and I’ve learned my words mean nothing to them. They only answer to the one man who’s about to own me.

Papa’s guard leaves, too, closing the door behind him.

The moment I hear that godawful sound of the lock clicking in place, I throw myself into my mother’s awaiting arms, then we hold each other and cry.

“My darling daughter,” she mutters against my hair, holding me so tightly I can hardly breathe. I don’t mind the feeling. The comfort of being in her arms means everything to me. “Thank God for keeping you safe.”

I stay there, pressed against her chest, listening to her heart beating and absorbing her calming scent. Lavender and magnolia. The scent of my mother was one of the things that steadied the horror I experienced after Gabrielle and I were kidnapped. Here we are again, but I feel like I need that scent more than ever.

“Are you hurt?” Papa speaks, cutting into the moment. He would almost sound like the caring father, but he’s far from it.

I lift my head and stare at him. What on earth should I say? There are so many answers to that question. But he means physically.

Mama kisses my forehead and releases me.

“I’m not hurt. Not physically. What happened to you?” I take in my father’s bruises and the weakness in his legs, as though they have no life. “Did Lev do that to you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll bounce back. This is temporary.”

Translation: yes. Lev put my father in that wheelchair. The realization pushes ice through my veins.

“What did he do to you, Papa?” I feel like I need to know.

Papa waves me off and shakes his head. “Like I said, don’t worry about me.”

God. He doesn’t sound like himself at all. The father I know is… well, I always thought Papa was untouchable. Whatever the hell he did to Lev must be so bad he can’t fight back. And he knows it.

I look at both my parents. “Am I really going through with this wedding?”

“Yes, child,” Papa answers.

Mama hugs herself and glances away, choking down a sob.

“Papa, what did you do to Lev? What power does he have over you?”