Page 4 of Taken to the Shadow Realm

Green. Pink. That’s all that exuded from the douche in front of me.

I fiddled with the hem of my dress under the table. Father had specifically reserved a seat at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, making this even more uncomfortable than it would have been if he’d just met me at my house.

He didn’t want me running away. Or acting out.

Forcing me on a date in public was a sure way to make me see the whole thing through.

But the man in front of me…

I tried to keep my face neutral and not show my disgust as he droned on about just how much money his family had. So far, we had been over his twelve cars, which he liked to switch up based on what he was wearing. Today it was the green Bugatti to match his gross neon green shirt.

Then we covered his collection of one-of-a-kind million-dollar watches.

And now his ski resort in Canada.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “Our personal cabin overlooks the resort, and on a clear day you can see the sun peeking over the summit. I’ll take you there on our next date.”

“I can’t drive in the snow,” I mumbled.

“Silly for you to think I drive in the snow,” he said with a laugh and took a healthy swig of red wine. I didn’t miss the grimace on his face as it went down.

“Oh yes, silly me.” I let out a sigh and turned my attention to the restaurant.

No one was really looking at us. Yes, the McMillans had a name for themselves, but everyone in here was just as rich, if not richer. They didn’t care about me.

How do I get out of this? My eyes scanned the room, but not a single waiter or waitress looked my way. As if Father himself had warned them not to help me out of my situation, whatever happened.

“Spa, facials, everything you can think of. They’ll give your skin a bit more liveliness. Maybe it’s the dim lighting, but it’s looking rather dull?—”

Fuck it.

I stood, cutting him off.

“Bathroom.”

I quickly walked across the restaurant as fast as my kitten heels would let me, almost bumping into a waiter with a tray full of drinks. With a muttered apology, I made it to the hallway of the bathroom and leaned against the wall.

I let out a forced breath. Father wouldn’t like this. All I had to do was be a good little girl. Charm him. It should be easy enough.

But the longer I stayed in the hallway, the longer my resolve wavered.

My eyes fell to the fire alarm in the corner. With a muttered curse and the last bit of bravery I possessed, I launched myself at it, pulling down the lever.

Sirens blared in my ears, lights flashed all over, and in seconds, water started sprinkling from the ceiling.

But I was out.

Iris

Father’s ringed hand came into contact with my cheek. The slap echoed through the empty foyer. My damp skin made it hurt ten times worse.

“I know this was you,” he hissed. The room was already engulfed in red. The anger threatened to choke me.

“There was a fire?—”

“Don’t lie to me! You have a duty, you ungrateful child! Our entire family line is dependent upon?—”

I forced his words to the background again and let my mind wander to what could be. Love. Warmth. A family who understands me. All I wanted was someone to see me and not the perfect shell of a McMillan daughter who only knew how to obey her daddy. The perfect housewife. Perfect baby maker.

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