I strolled over, brushing my fingers over the top of her antique vanity, letting them bump against the worn wood. It was the only piece of furniture that wasn’t pristine. It’d been the only thing she had left that had belonged to her own mother after she’d passed away.
If she were alive, she’d be sitting right here at this vanity, makeup and perfume strewn around as she got ready for the party tonight. She loved parties. They were where she would shine. Her gracious nature and pleasant personality were a magnet to anyone who encountered her.
Of course, she didn’t need any of that makeup. To this day, I can’t fathom how Franklin Benoit, a repugnant, pug-nosed Frenchman, managed to get Yasmin Santos, a Brazilian beauty queen, to marry him. The only thing I could think of was coercion. He’d forced her somehow.
I also understand why he thought she cheated. I was pasty white. I got her dark wavy hair and her eyes and nose—thank goodness, but that was it. I had Franklin Benoit’s strong cheekbones and his height. My mom had towered over him, and when he’d look at her, it was a Cheshire cat grin of power and possession.
Franklin Benoit refused to see me as his. It was as if genetics didn’t exist. My mom had an entire library of pictures of her parents. Her father was as white as I am. My grandfather met my grandmother while he was on holiday in Brazil. They fell in love and were married six months later. I wasn’t sure why, but he’d gotten into his head that I should have favored her more since Yasmin’s complexion was darker like her mother’s.
I loved my mom, and she loved me. Despite my father’s cruelty, she’d retained all of her kindness and compassion and made sure I kept mine.
We’d often held long discussions of what we would do if we were ever allowed to be free of him. One of the many things she’d wanted to do was volunteer—to help the less fortunate—at a women’s shelter, clothing closet, soup kitchen, anything really that would give back, but no wife or daughter of Franklin Benoit was going to lower themselves to be servants. He had a reputation to maintain, and he threw money at things, not labor or time.
What he didn’t know was that right after my mom died, I’d started volunteering at a soup kitchen. This spring, when I set up my Northwestern University class schedule, I’d included a window of time to devote to helping the community in memory of her. It’d been a little overwhelming at first, all the suffering, but I dove in and loved it. Seeing those faces, watching them fill their bellies, gave me a sense of purpose.
With one last exhale, I left her room, shutting the door behind me. I wish I knew how long I’d ache for her. How long the pain would radiate at the mere thought of her. She was all I had.
Being the daughter of a wealthy elitist had left my options for friendship a shallow, empty pool. I never knew if someone was befriending me because of the money or my father. Either way, I didn’t trust them because I didn’t trust my father. Ten years ago, he’d irrevocably broken it and me.
When I reached my room, I found a glittering red dress with a low neckline draped across my bed. It was nothing like what I would have picked for myself. There’d only been one other time he’d picked a dress this revealing for me, and that night still haunted me.
Most people would have told me to run, but most people didn’t understand my world. There was no running and no place to hide. I could give up everything, change my name, and I’d live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. I couldn’t do it.
As much as I hated it, I knew I needed to get ready. My father had standards, and if I didn’t meet them, he’d punish me as soon as he could. I went to my bathroom, and turned on the water in the shower, letting it get warm while I stripped. Once I stepped inside, I lowered my head, letting the water cascade over me and soaking up the warmth. If only I could pre-scrub whatever horror awaited me, it would be perfect.
My thoughts drifted back to Lucas. He possessed a raw power and presence that mirrored the monster I lived with, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something…different. A flicker of something ignited a confusing warmth in my chest. Was it hope? Attraction? Or a desperate yearning for something more? It was probably just my hormones making a feeble wish that a man like him might want me and protect me.
I blinked at the idea. It was something I hadn’t even considered. Being forced to…I involuntarily shuddered. Now, those succulent lips and large hands were weapons, and I wanted nothing to do with him.
The timer on my phone went off, chasing any further thought away. For the next two hours, I took my time making sure every aspect of my appearance was meticulous. Not a hair out of place.
Once I was sure I would meet my father’s expectations, I went downstairs. Of course, he was waiting for me. He wanted enough time before we needed to leave to demand changes if he saw fit.
“You look lovely, Claire.” His eyes raked over me. The dress made me feel exposed and disgusting, like I was on display and being sold to the highest bidder. Chances were, that was the plan. My future husband was likely going to be in attendance, and he was getting a solid look at the goods.
My hand came to my stomach. “The dress is gorgeous. Thank you, Daddy.”
His head tilted. “You know, these last six months have been a delight with you, Claire. Your attitude has been refreshing. I hope you extend that same attitude to our guests tonight. There’s one in particular I want you to pay attention to: Lucas Kalantzis.”
Did he see the hard swallow? The flit of fear in my eyes? “Lucas Kalantzis?” Maybe his fear of Lucas pushed him to seek out an alliance with the Greeks. Did that mean Lucas told him about my proposal?
My heart hit the floor. I’d spend the entire evening wondering how severe the punishment would be for my disobedience. That was almost as bad as the violence I’d suffer later. I only needed to be healthy enough to say I do.
He took a step forward. “Is that a problem?”
“No, Daddy. I just don’t know him. I thought…”
“My previous choice decided he wanted to double-cross me. I think a marriage that will unite the Kalantzis and our family will bring a better result.”
If Lucas Kalantzis was willing to work for my father, that meant my father’s arrival at the restaurant prevented me from making a terrible mistake. Now, even more than before, I needed to find a husband. Someone who could keep me safe long enough to receive my trust fund. After that, I didn’t care.
Chapter Four
LUCAS
I leaned back in my office chair, facing my brothers and sister. The only person missing was my aunt. She didn’t have much to do with the business, but I kept her informed about the more important things. Her days were busy at the charity she managed, and laying all this on her would only stress her out, especially with things up in the air as they were.
Getting Dimitris, Ari, Thea, and Alexander all in the same room on such short notice was a Herculean feat, but I was grateful they’d dropped what they were doing and agreed to meet. I’d told them about my conversation with Franklin, every word. The disbelief and mistrust on their faces mirrored my feelings.