She's smart not to say anything. She hasn't breathed a word since Christian left us alone again so I could continue preparing for this nightmare of a ceremony.
“We must arrange your hair,” one of the maids murmurs.
I meet her eye in the mirror, finding her over my shoulder. “Another few minutes, please.”
“We mustn't keep them waiting.”
Until now, I've been meek. Grateful for even the slightest bit of kindness or communication from anyone in Samuele Russo's sprawling home. I've gone where I was supposed to go, when I was supposed to be there. The fear of retribution was enough to make me dance to everyone else’s tune.
Today, that's changed. There's been a seismic shift inside me, and I see everything clearly now. Or maybe that's shock dulling my natural reaction. Either way, I couldn't care less about keeping anyone waiting.
“Another few minutes.”
She lowers her gaze, and I wait a bit before going back to my work. If I'm going to be forced into marriage, I may as well look my best. I will at least have that much going for me.
My hand shakes. I have to stop what I'm doing for a second before I end up making a mess. Focus. You can do this. As heartbroken as Cynthia's lies have left me, I can't fail her. I have no doubt Christian is desperate enough to make good on his promise of what he'll do if I don't give him what he wants. Like it or not, Cynthia saved my life all those years ago.
Now, I understand why. I understand everything. As I apply my makeup, I think about it all as my thoughts fade into the distance.
“Tell her.” Christian held the gun to her head, unflinching. Unblinking. “Tell her, or I’ll do it. And I suspect you'll make it sound a lot nicer than I will.”
Cynthia’s eye crinkled at the corners like she was in pain, while my mind raced in a dozen different directions, scrambling to figure out what she could possibly have to tell me. Whatever it was, it took having a gun to her head to get it out.
“I love you,” she whispered. “From the day you were born, nothing in the world has mattered more than you. I need you to remember that. I would have agreed to anything, no matter the terms, so long as it meant keeping you safe.”
“I don’t understand,” I whispered back.
“And I know this is going to hurt you,” she continued. Her voice shook slightly, which was somehow the worst of all. If there was one thing I could count on from her, it was strength. Whenever we had to run, she always came up with a plan while I panicked and freaked out. Nothing could touch her. Nothing could shake her.
“Whatever it is, just tell me. I'll try to understand.” I could barely string a sentence together with the gun’s muzzle pressed against her temple so tight.
“Siân, your father and I were in love. We didn't mean for it to happen. I tried so hard to turn away from him. I know he did the same. But it was impossible.”
I thought I could find a way to understand anything but this. “You had an affair with my father?”
“Come on.” Christian nudged her with the gun. “No half-truths. Tell her all of it.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked him, but he only snickered.
“I only want to provide context,” he explained. “Trust me. It will motivate you.”
“You're exactly the monster I knew you would be.” Cynthia trembled, but I knew it wasn't from fear. I'd seen her enraged whenever my stalker—Christian—found me and announced his presence.
“Get on with it. There's a wedding to be performed.”
“Tell me,” I insisted. “Please. Get it out.”
Our eyes met. Tears welled up in hers. “I am your mother. Your biological mother.”
Immediately, everything in me pushed this away. “No,” I whispered, even though my heart knew it was true. “That can't be. I would have known.”
Christian sighed. “You know it's true. If there's one thing I would change about you, Siân, it's your inability to accept the truth when it stares you in the face. If you're ever going to survive, you need to stop wasting time denying what's so obvious.”
No matter how I wanted to ignore him, there was no use. I saw the truth in Cynthia’s eyes.
I shake my head, my vision blurring from the tears pooling along my lashline. “I don’t understand. All this time. This—” I glance from her to Christian and back. “You’ve known all along that he would come to take me. How could you agree to give me to him?”
Christian huffs, but I don’t acknowledge him. I need to hear this from Cynthia—my mother. How could she hide me away yet lie to my face day in and day out?
“All I wanted was to keep you safe. I've loved you your entire life. I'm so sorry I failed you.”