Page 34 of Blackmailed to the Altar

At first, I was going to ignore what she said, but again, curiosity won out. “Deal.”

“You go first then,” Nonna said.

I didn’t argue. Better to rip off the bandaid, and show her how uninteresting I was. Then maybe she wouldn’t want me married to Sebastian, and could stop it. I looked at Nonna and the other women. They were older than me, and seemed happy in this life.

“Well, I grew up in the Roxbury slums of Pennsylvania, and I pulled myself out of that area, by being the first in my family to go to college.”

“Ah, Mya, you are perfect, even though you aren’t Italian.” Nonna beamed, uncaring that her compliment was backhanded, clasping her hands together as if she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment. “When Sebastian was a baby, he used to swirl his hair on his head to fall asleep.”

I frowned. “What’s so embarrassing about that?”

Nonna chuckled. “He still does it as an adult, to soothe himself to sleep.”

I laughed, too. I couldn’t imagine Sebastian using something so sweet to help himself fall asleep.

“Back home, I’m a world renowned psychiatrist, but here, no one knows me, and that’s actually pretty nice, you know?”

Nonna agreed. “However, you are still special. Otherwise, my grandson wouldn’t have chosen you. You’ll keep him in line, eh?”

“I mean he kidnapped me, but semantics, yeah.”

Nonna dropped the pen she was using to write on the invitations in fancy calligraphy. “Yay, I always love a good kidnapping.” She started clapping.

My eyes bugged out of my head in shock. “You say that like it’s normal,” I hissed.

She waved away my concern. “In this world, it is normal. I mean, what would a good arranged marriage be, if you weren’t kidnapped.”

“And warring families who needed to become allies,” an aunt chimed in.

“Don’t forget the marriages of convenience,” the maid muttered.

“Right you are. There are so many of those nowadays, I miss a good old fashioned kidnapping,” Nonna said.

“Don’t forget, forcing them down the aisle,” one of the aunts said, her glasses falling down her nose as she peered over them. “Are you being forced, honey?”

I nodded my answer, and the women giggled, and fell into a frenzy of similar stories. It showed me how unhinged this family was. The women were brainwashed, or had Stockholm Syndrome.

I couldn’t help all of them. There was only one of me. Nonna pulled out some drinks, and we all drank to the future. I didn’tmake a toast, and I stayed silent. My only wish would be for peace.

Who could have that when the man who consistently made me miserable, would never give me the peace I deserved? We drank, and I sat back quietly, while the wedding I didn’t want was planned.

Maybe I could fix him. Maybe I was foolish for trying.

I hoped I could get out of this, but it was looking bleak. No matter where I turned, someone was in Sebastian’s pocket. Not only that, but if I went back home, and he released whatever information he had on my prison reform program, I’d be headed to jail.

There were probably a ton of prisoners who wanted a piece of me; men and women. I dealt with the worst of the worst, and I was their judge, jury, and sometimes, even their executioner. Without me, many of them would backslide.

The most notorious being Eden’s Uncle Darren.

When the women left, and Nonna said her goodbye to me, I headed back into the office I was using. I opened my emails, and my heart sank when I saw the first unread one in my mailbox was from the parole board.

I scanned the document, and my breath caught. They were releasing him. Even though my drug wasn’t working permanently, the parole board decided to release Darren early. This was all my fault. If only I hadn’t told the board before my kidnapping that he was not only remorseful, but a changed man. I even leaned on family image, and his belief in God.

All so I could run more experiments while he was on the streets. I was no longer there to oversee his therapy, which meant he was still a danger to society. A menace to women and children. An unrepentant serial killer with a fuck-ton of rage.

It was one thing for him not to have any sexual attractions or predilections in prison, but when he went out into the real world,that would be the test. With temptation on every street corner, I was planning on following him to see if he backslid.

Now, I not only wouldn’t be able to test my theory, but I may have put unsuspecting women and children in danger. I held my head in my hands. This wasn’t good. Not at all.

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