“You’re the one who sold me off like I’m some property.”
“Watch your mouth, Rosalie. Your marriage was always going to be with the man I choose,” he harshly retorts. “You will fulfill your obligation and marry Nova without causing any ruckus to ruin our name. Do you understand?”
“What happened to hating the D’Cruz family?” I reply, flabbergasted. “That they’re scum, cheaters, and liars.”
“The wedding’s whole purpose is to put the bad blood to rest. The damage done is enough. Times are changing. It’s best for our businesses if we merge instead of compete against one another.”
Power.
That’s all these men want.
Everything always boiling down to it.
My whole life feels like a lie. All the hatred he’s fed us over the years. Suddenly, he wants me to forget it all.
“Then merge the companies. Form a joint partnership or something,” I suggest, hating having to plead to him. As a minor, my options are limited. “Anything is better than—”
“Enough!” His tone is cutting. I flinch, old wounds surfacing. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore. It’s not as if we’re marrying you to just any family. Be glad they didn’t object.”
“Why me, Dad?” I whisper. “Why can’t Jasmine marry him? She’s close to his age.”
Guilt flares as I throw my older sister under the bus but my panic overshadows it. He’s literally sending me to a den of wolves. Who’s to say they wouldn’t torment me to get their vengeance for all these years of rivalry and sabotage we caused them.
“Because it’s your mother’s wish for it to be you.” His tone is dismissive. “Mine too.”
The underlying meaning—he doesn’t want to sacrifice his favorite daughter. I’m already invisible, so he might as well get rid of me permanently. I’m finally valuable to him.
However, it’s my mother’s betrayal that’s cutting deep.
Why didn’t she tell me?
“How convenient of you to say since she’s not here,” I taunt in disdain, making him narrow his gaze in warning.
“Go to your room, Rosalie.” Glaring, he says menacingly, “Or do I need to lock you in there so you’re reminded of your place?”
Darkness swarms my vision and I barely hide the shudder.
When I remain silent, he sits back in satisfaction.
Dismissed, he puts on his reading glasses, switches on his computer, and begins typing away rapidly. I stare at him blankly, not at all surprised at how easily he goes back to ignoring my existence.
I’m fuming as I slam the door to his study and make my way to my bedroom. I yank out my phone from my pocket as I speedwalk down the hallway. Desperate for the sanctuary of my room.
I dial Mom’s number. Of course, it goes straight to voicemail. God knows which part of the world she’s traveled to today. I try again and receive the same annoying response. So, I leave her a message to call me back as soon as possible.
Flinging open the bedroom door, I throw my phone on the bed in frustration. My hand pauses in midair as I come to an immediate halt. I suppress the hot shiver fighting to run down my spine.
The very first thing I notice is the stench of nicotine.
Then the dark, rich, and suffocating energy in the room. The blinding source—sitting comfortably on my reading chair in the corner, christening it as his throne.
Nova fucking D’Cruz.
All six feet and four inches of him is in my bedroom, making my heart climb up to my throat. It takes me a few lingering breaths to recover from the initial shock of seeing him—my fiancé—in my territory.
How did he even find my room?
Years I’ve spent surrounding in his orbit, yet I’ve never been privy to his attention. Or deemed worthy of his presence. Today I’m sucked right into his path.