I watch him turn, watch him walk away. Pour himself a drink.
With the heel of one hand, I wipe my eyes as he looks back at me down on my knees. He swallows the contents of his glass. And when he stalks toward me, I press my back against the wall, as if I could disappear into it.
He ignores my whimper but leans down to cup my chin and he’s almost gentle when he tilts my face up to his and I watch him watch me for a long moment.
“You’re a sad little thing,” he says.
And I think he’s never been more right.
15
Gabriela
The papers I’m to sign are a petition for Gabe’s guardianship. And it would be a good thing. But there’s a catch. There’s always a catch.
How long has Stefan planned on taking guardianship of my brother? While he was lying on that beach with me? While he was kissing me?
A knock on my door interrupts my thoughts.
“Are you ready?” Miss Millie asks, peering her head into my room.
Does she know what happened last night? Does she know I don’t want this? That I’m being forced to do this?
I shift my gaze back to my reflection. I don’t look like I did the night of the engagement party. Not elegant and sophisticated. I’m wearing minimal make-up. Just some cover up, mascara and lip gloss. My face is pale, and I can’t hide the puffy redness from all the crying.
My hair falls loose to my shoulders, the bangs tucked behind my ear. I’m not wearing the pretty hat that comes with the dress Stefan chose but I am dressed. It was delivered this morning, my replacement wedding dress. And with it came a note:
Remember what will happen if you make me come up there to dress you.
S
No ‘x’ this time.
And I am dressed.
At least it’s not the hideous gown.
“Ready,” I say, standing, the skin of my thighs tight, a painful reminder of last night’s whipping. A taste of what will happen if I disobey.
No women to prepare me today. No need. Today is a decoy. A means to an end. Just like I am a means to an end. If I was forgetting that, he reminded me of it last night.
“You look beautiful,” Miss Millie says.
I don’t want to look beautiful.
I’m wearing a white lace off-the-shoulder dress that comes to my knees. Black would have been more fitting. A thick satin belt cinches my waist and the sleeves come to my elbows. A pair of high satin heels finishes the look.
It’s simple, I guess. At least compared to the other one.
Miss Millie is wearing a pretty navy-blue suit and for the first time since I’ve known her, makeup.
“Stefan is waiting downstairs,” she says and opens the door wider.
I nod, glance back at my reflection but I don’t recognize myself.
What a sham this is. What a sham my life has become.
I straighten my spine and walk out of the bedroom. I can see him waiting with Rafa in the foyer and they both look up at me. Stefan’s face doesn’t change. I don’t know if Rafa’s does because I’m only looking at Stefan.
Stefan.
Satan.
Stefan.
He’s beautiful, just like all fallen angels are. I thought so even that first night. The night he smelled of death. The night he risked death sneaking into my bedroom on my sixteenth birthday to give me that gift. To make me that promise that he would be back for me. That he would steal me away.
He’s dressed in a dark suit with a dark shirt and tie and never takes his eyes off me as I walk down the stairs, remembering last night, remembering his warning. The welts on my thighs burn but it’s good. The pain won’t let me forget what he is. What he’s capable of.
I am a means to an end. That reality was muddled a few nights ago, but now, it’s crystal clear.
I’ll marry Stefan Sabbioni today. Weeks earlier than planned.
And then we’ll petition for guardianship of my brother. Take him out of my father’s hands so he can’t use him as a pawn. Put him in Stefan’s hands instead.
And there’s that catch. Stefan will become his guardian. Not me.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
There I go again.
I didn’t think I’d be taking my brother with me.
“You look beautiful, Gabriela,” Stefan says, closing his hands softly around my wrists, his cheek brushing mine as he brings his mouth to my ear to whisper his question to me. “Are you going to behave?”
His body is just touching mine and he’s moved our arms so his are bent around me, the position just enough to denote possession.
“Last night’s warning stands,” he adds when I don’t answer right away.
“You mean last night’s threat?” I ask.
He grins, tightens his hold on me until I wince.
“Your answer?”