“There’s your prince charming.” Becca clapped happily as she looked in the direction of Conrad, who was seated at a beautifully decorated table for two in the middle of the garden. But I didn’t notice anything about him; instead, I noticed Bradley, who stood by his cart with food and drinks lining it.
They were making him serve us.
My heart ached as I walked toward the table and Conrad jumped up to pull the chair out for me.
“You are a vision, Demi,” he said as if he had not just threatened me the night before. “I was distraught that my father pushed our wedding back another month, but I suppose we have a lot of things to do in order to have the most beautiful wedding.”
“Bradley pour my bride her wine,” Conrad barked at him.
“Did you know this wine is freshly crafted with ingredients from our family vineyard in Napa, and our peonies are also blended into it?” Conrad lifted the glass to his lips as Bradley hesitated before pouring the blush-pink liquid into my glass.
“Drink it,” Conrad demanded as my eyes locked onto Bradley’s.
Taking a sip, I let the smooth liquid numb my mouth. I didn’t care if it was poisoned… I actually hoped it was.
Chugging the entire glass, Conrad smiled proudly. “Delicious, right?”
I nodded. It was the first time I’d ever had alcohol, so I pretended the bitter taste didn’t burn my throat. Or that I knew in a few minutes I’d probably be buzzed. Hell, I hoped it’d make me forget this entire day.
Bradley stood with his arms behind his back as we ate our meal, and Conrad talked about his dreams and ambitions. He rambled about his hobbies and his friends back at school he was excited to connect with when he was back at school.
“Am I going to be moving with you?” I asked curiously.
“Mother and Father want you to stay here if we conceive on our wedding night. They’d be able to provide you and our baby with the best care as I finish my medical training, sweetheart. We have exactly two months to conceive. I don’t doubt that I’ll be able to impregnate you on our wedding night or during our honeymoon. I’ll visit you every weekend and then, we will eventually take over the family business together.”
“Why do you need to become a doctor if you have this business?” I chose to pretend I didn’t hear a word about pregnancy and babies. I chose to pretend that he didn’t say those words to me. I knew my mind wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of carrying a child from this family and being bound to them forever.
“Because there will always be weak girls who need to be… well, put down. But, my love, we don’t waste our merchandise. The weak ones are perfect for well, fertilizing our soil or home décor. These peonies bloom from soil that is…” Conrad’s tone had shifted completely. “Pour my bride another glass, Bradley.”
“I don’t think she should—” Bradley began.
“I hope a bastard like you doesn’t actually think he has any say in what my soon-to-be wife does? Pour the glass or I’ll smash your face with it,” Conrad shouted violently.
“I don’t want one.” I looked at Conrad as Bradley poured a small amount into the glass.
“You will drink it, then you’ll come with me so I can show you something…” he snarled. Grabbing my hand in his, we walked toward the peony garden—the same garden I knew, without a doubt, I saw a young woman’s dead body bleed out in.
When we got to the garden, the swing was there, repainted in a fresh coat of white paint. I could see Misha’s body bleeding out with her body crumbled on the swing. But when I looked at the swing today, it wasn’t Misha’s face I saw… it was my sister’s. Stumbling back, Conrad constricted his grip on my hand.
“What is it my love?” He rubbed his thumb against the back of my hand as I stayed silent. “Bradley! Bring the plant!” he shouted again.
Bradley appeared, holding a small plant with tiny, closed buds and a bag of what I assumed were gardening tools.
“It’s time for our Ivory family tradition.”
What did he mean by putting the weak girls down? What did he mean by using their merchandise to fertilize the soil?
Bradley laid a small blanket down by the gorgeous blush-pink peonies. The heavenly scent of sweet citrus floated around us, and it felt like such a paradox to the darkest place in the world.
“Here, dig a hole for us, will you?” Conrad handed me a small shovel. I so badly wanted to bash his face in with the shovel, but this was survival. What would I do? Kill Conrad in front of Bradley, then sprint out of a house that every single door stayed locked in? What kind of torture would Ian Ivory put me through if I did something to his precious and only son?
I sat on the blanket and began to dig, brushing at the soft dirt with my freehand. “These are the peonies you just drank the wine from, beautiful,” Conrad said proudly as I continued to dig. He took the small plant out of the wrapping and suddenly, my shovel hit something.
Jamming the metal into the dirt again, I assumed it was a root, or maybe a clump of dirt that had grown cold and hard?
Brushing away the loose top layer, I let out the loudest, sharpest scream I’d ever heard leave my lungs.
“Oh my God!” I pushed away on my heels, flinging the shovel away and crawling on all fours like a terrified animal.