I repeated the mantra over and over in my head until my breathing levelled out. A few deep breaths and I had myself under control.
This was all for a reason, a desperate purpose.
Thinking of which, I wondered what Nikolai would have said if he’d seen me in this dress. I hate that he was missing such a sight. Would he have laughed at my silly dress or would he have smiled and made those eyes at me - the ones that I’d come to recognize as his ‘kiss me’ eyes.
But, I also hated the dress. While fantasizing was nice for some, glamour was not something that I fantasized about. While its beauty was unrivalled, the dress wasn’t me, or who I wanted to be perceived as.
Fixing my posture and sighing one final time, I plastered on a smile and pulled the curtain open. Just as I had expected, Rachel and Sara were settled on the edge of their seats. After squeals and a few more alterations, Sara promised to deliver the dress personally when it had been perfected.
As we stepped out of the shop, I sucked in a deep breath, I didn’t realize how much I needed the fresh air. Rachel tugged my arm in an effort to increase my speed. I sent her an apologetic smile but it went unseen as she began talking a million miles a minute.
She seemed so excited about this party. Her and Kaleb both. I had started to feel the guilt set in about three hours ago. They were putting in so much effort for a welcome home party for me. For a girl that would rather be anywhere but here. For the daughter that thought her childhood just might’ve been better with the man that kidnapped her.
It was true, and after that realization, I had begun to think long and hard about Anton’s death. I had hated him anyway, but then I sunk to a deeper sort of loathing for him after reading Carol’s letter. After less than a week here, I’d begun to think he’d done me a favor. He didn’t deserve my anger. If he stood in front of me right then and there, there was a very good chance that I would have forgiven him.
With Rachel and Kaleb keeping me busy enough that my feet seemed to barely touch the ground, the days passed quickly. I had feigned as much interest as I possibly could until a few hours beforehand.
In my room, the air was quiet around me as Rachel’s make-up artist worked on me. After spending the afternoon following Rachel’s primping regime, which was a headache on its own, Rachel had also found a way to fill those hours with meaningless conversation. It had impressed me how much the woman could talk… but it felt forced, as though she had been trying to fit the last two decades into one afternoon.
I closed my eyes, insisting on relaxing through this portion of the evening…until Rachel blurted out something that piqued my interest. For the first time all day, I willed her to keep talking. And the subject that had perked me up, Marco Bellucci, my soon to be husband. She had finally shown her hand, this party was less about me being welcomed home and more about me meeting Marco - and his entire family, of course.
Marco Bellucci.
My betrothed. Eww.
I couldn’t believe my supposed ‘parents’ had sold me off like a piece of property. Who even did that? And who the fuck still arranged marriages in this day and age?
Like...What. The. Actual. Fuck.
The complete situation made me wish for my simple life of death threats and kidnappings.
Completely hidden behind the sparkle of my dress, the layered makeup and a ridiculous updo it was finally time. I thought I would’ve felt nervous, meeting Marco, meeting his family. But I didn’t.
I made my way downstairs with Rachel as she led me to the ballroom. The hallway was a hubbub of beautiful dresses and sharp suits - the beautiful people. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if these were Nikolai’s kind of people. While he didn’t seem to have many high society friends, I pondered if that had changed since I’d come along.
I longed to know more about his past, his work. I knew Nikolai down to the bone but it was rare that I’d been with him outside of his estate or around anyone other than his brothers. I planned to rectify that as soon as I returned to him.
I loved that man more than anything else in the world, but he needed to know that if he wanted to be with me, he had to give me every part of himself. Not just the good and sweet, his tender side. I wanted it all, I craved it. The longer I’d known him the more I could start to see that he wasn’t giving me every part of himself.
I saw the cage inside of him that kept his true darkness hidden. I saw the beast that was waiting to be released. I saw through it all.
As we came to a stop, Rachel tapped on the shoulder of a sharply dressed young man. Upon turning he greeted her fondly and exchanged pleasantries, and I knew who he was immediately. “Marco Bellucci, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Anastasia Varela.”
His eyes roamed me, up and down, up and down like a fucking see-saw. His smirk and leering eyes were enough for me to make a snap judgement.
I didn’t like him.
But really, was I ever going to?
Fortunately for me, I could see right through him, and I didn’t like what I saw.
“Anastasia, it’s so lovely to finally meet you.” He flashed me his pearly whites as I reached out to shake his hand. I gave him a tight-lipped smile as I continued to assess him.
He was handsome. He had the typical prince charming good looks, but he reeked of money and privilege. His blonde hair was trimmed respectably, his skin clear
