Closing the sketchpad, I walk to the bed and shove it under the mattress.
Another knock sounds.
“Violet?” my mom says. “Open the door, honey. Please.”
I don’t want to, but even now, even with what’s happening, I’m indebted to her. Turning the key, I open the door a crack.
“Honey,” she says, pushing the door open wider and cupping my cheek.
I pull away. The last thing I need is her pity.
“Leon Hart is a very handsome man,” she says.
“Like Gus?”
She winces. Gus is also good to look at, but on the inside, he’s rotten.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not certain for what I’m apologizing.
“Gus is going to make him a partner. You’ll make a good marriage.”
Meaning I’ll live in a big house and never go hungry or ever be cold, but I’ll have no say in my life. I’ll always have to dress up like a doll to be arm candy for a cruel and dangerous man. I’ll have no value beyond looking pretty. Only, I’m not even pretty. In this case, my only value is sealing a deal.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, betrayal burning like acid in my stomach.
“If I’d told you, would you have come down for dinner?”
I cross my arms. “No.”
“How would Gus have reacted?”
Not well. He would’ve dragged me down the stairs by my arm if he had to.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” I say, meaning not only tonight, but also all the other nights when I had to hide in the back of a car.
“Everything will be fine,” she says.
I can’t listen to more lies. Not tonight. “Night, Mom.”
“Have a warm cup of tea.” She smiles. “Tomorrow, everything will look better.”
Does she believe herself? Has she been lying to herself for so long that she can tell the lie convincingly?
For the first time in my life, I close the door in my mother’s face. Immediately, guilt for my behavior swamps me. In its wake follows regret. Guilt, regret, and betrayal aren’t conducive sentiments, but my life is built on those emotions. Fear and pain are ingrained in my being. I’m never at peace. Sometimes, I think I’m chaos reincarnated.
I hate my stepfather and his business. I hate my body that made my mom do what she did. I hate Leon Hart. I hate his handsome face and powerful body. Most of all, I hate that he’s using me. It doesn’t make stealing right, but hating him does make me feel a little better about the crime Elliot is blackmailing me to commit.
CHAPTER 15
Leon
After my future wife has stormed from the room with her mother hot on her heels, I make to follow, but Gus gets up and lays a hand on my arm.
“Give her some time,” he says, sucking on his cigar. “The idea needs to grow on her.”
I don’t care that this is his house and that I’m the trespasser. I free my arm and continue to the door. Violet has run out on me one time too many already. Running away and burying her head in the sand isn’t going to help either of us in our new future.
“Leon,” Gus says to my back. “I’m no expert on women, but I can tell you no woman wants to be seen like that.”
I turn around. “Like what?”
He smiles. “Let’s just say—How shall I put it?—Violet isn’t looking her best right now. No woman wants to be confronted when at such a disadvantage. It’ll knock a dent into her pride. Give her time to gather herself.”
“Or at least to clean her face,” Elliot says with a snicker.
Balling my hands, I advance to Gus. “Was it necessary to break the news to her like that?”
Gus blows a circle of smoke into the air. “Does it matter how she found out?”
“It does,” I say, clenching my jaw. “I would’ve preferred to prepare her at least. Then I would’ve asked her properly.”
Gus raises a brow. “Would her answer have made any difference?”
My reply is curt. “No. But that’s not the point.”
“My stepdaughter can be strong-willed and hard-headed if not kept in her place. You won’t do yourself any favors by pampering her.”
“I hardly call that pampering. Common decency, maybe?”
Gus takes a step toward me. “For the moment, she lives under my roof. I’ll deal with her as I see fit. When she moves in with you, you can do as you please.”
I close the last centimeter of space between us, putting us chest to chest. “As she’s my future wife, her wellbeing is my concern.”
Gia walks into the room, shutting me up, but her presence doesn’t stop me from engaging in a stare-off with Gus.
She sighs, sounding tired. “Violet offers her apology. She has a migraine, and her hip is aching. She won’t be joining us for coffee.”
With a sudden bout of laughter, Gus pats my arm. “Lighten up, will you? You make it seem as if a few tears are the end of the world.”