Page 9 of Ensnared
"You don't understand," he interrupted, his voice cracking. "If my father chooses you – and he will – he'll suck all the good out of you. He'll twist you into something you're not."
I pulled back, searching his face. "Why do you care? You’ve done nothing but made my life miserable for the past fifteen years."
Vaughn's laugh was hollow. "Because I've seen it happen before. And you..." he trailed off, his hand ghosting over my cheek once more. "You don't deserve that."
As I stood there, caught between Vaughn's unexpected vulnerability and the looming specter of tomorrow's party, I felt more lost than ever. The peace I'd sought in the garden was shattered, replaced by a storm of confusion and conflicting emotions.
"I have to go," I whispered, backing away from Vaughn. As I turned to flee, his voice followed me into the darkness.
"Remember what I said, Joey. It's not too late to run."
I ran back to the house, my mind reeling. Vaughn's warning echoed in my ears, mingling with the memory of his kiss. As I slipped back into bed, I knew sleep would be impossible now. Tomorrow loomed before me, full of more questions than answers, and the terrifying possibility that Vaughn might be right.
I stared at the dark ceiling, time slipping away unnoticed as my mind raced. The weight of my decision pressed down on me, suffocating in its intensity. If I left, I'd be throwing my family to the wolves. If I stayed, I might end up as Colson's bride—a fate that filled me with dread. There was no easy way out of this labyrinth, and I clung desperately to the notion that I was doing this for my family. It was the only thing keeping me from running.
As the dark blue light of dawn seeped through the blinds, I finally succumbed to exhaustion. When I woke, just before 11 a.m., the house was eerily quiet. Saturday—my parents wouldn't be back until noon, and Logan was probably still dead to the world, dreaming of whatever adventures he'd have with his friends later. Friends. What a foreign concept.
My gaze fell on the dress hanging over my closet door, the heels placed neatly by my desk. In mere hours, I'd be transformed into a vision of elegance—a carefully crafted illusion. I'd sip champagne and mingle with Windmere Haven's elite, all while waiting for my turn to be paraded before Colson like cattle at auction.
The whole process felt cold, mechanical. I couldn't help but wonder if Colson took such painstaking care with the other women he'd invited. Was Evelina Kournova making house calls to all of them, or was I receiving special treatment? Were they all being primped and prodded into perfect little dolls, vying for the chance to become his wife?
A wave of nausea washed over me as I contemplated whether the other women were excited about this prospect. I certainly wasn't. My head throbbed, a dull reminder of my almost sleepless night. As I sat up in bed, the reality of what was to come in the next few hours settled over me like a shroud. Soon, the hairstylist and makeup artist would arrive, ready to mold me into someone I barely recognized.
I stumbled to the bathroom for the third time, my stomach churning as I heard my mother walk through the front door. The tea and toast I'd forced down earlier had done nothing to settlemy nerves—they'd only given me something to throw up. Now, perched over the white porcelain bowl, I was reduced to dry heaves that wracked my entire body.
A soft knock on the door was followed by my mother's concerned voice. "Joey, are you all right?"
"Fine," I managed to croak out, the lie tasting as bitter as the bile in my throat. Another wave of nausea hit me, and I gripped the toilet bowl tighter.
When I finally emerged, pale and shaky, my mother was waiting. Her face was etched with worry, her eyes searching mine. "You don't have to do this," she said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my clammy forehead. "We discussed it. You can say no."
I met her gaze, trying to muster a strength I didn't feel. "You know that won't end well for any of us," I replied, my voice hoarse. I leaned against the doorframe, suddenly exhausted. "We're not financially prepared for Colson's wrath."
My mother's teeth worried at her bottom lip, a habit she'd had for as long as I could remember. She knew the truth of my words, even if she didn't want to admit it. We had nowhere to go, our closest relatives a world away in Iowa. Our old Chevy wouldn't make it halfway there.
I straightened up, squaring my shoulders. "And I have plans for the future," I added, a hint of defiance creeping into my tone. "I didn't work my ass off at Yale just to end up doing menial labor for the rest of my life. I want better than that. You and Dad deserve better than that."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken fears and dreams. My mother's eyes glistened with unshed tears,and for a moment, I saw the weight of guilt settle on her shoulders. But I couldn't back down now. This was about more than just me—it was about our family's future, about the life I'd fought so hard to build.
She nodded and her gaze faded far away. I’d always felt there was something from her past, from both my parents’ pasts that kept them here. We didn’t fit into this place and it was like we didn’t belong, ever.
As we stood there in the hallway, the ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder, reminding us that time was running out. In a few short hours, I'd be stepping into a world of glitz and glamour, playing a part in a game where the stakes were higher than I'd ever imagined. And despite the fear gnawing at my insides, I knew I had to see it through.
Chapter 4
As the doorbell chimed at 4 p.m., I took a deep breath, willing my stomach to settle. The nausea that had plagued me all day seemed to recede, replaced by a strange, nervous energy. I opened the door to find two women laden with bags and cases—the hair stylist and makeup artist sent by Colson.
"Miss Shaw?" the taller one asked, her eyes appraising me. "I'm Mara, and this is Tessa. We're here to work some magic."
I nodded, stepping aside to let them in. "It's Josephine," I corrected, leading them to my bedroom. Until I was ready for my reveal, I would be Josephine. "And I'm not sure how much magic you can work with what you've got."
Tessa laughed, a warm, tinkling sound. "Oh honey, you'd be surprised. Now, sit down and let us do our thing."
For the next two hours, I sat still as they worked, transforming me from the girl I knew into someone I barely recognized. Mara's fingers flew through my hair, twisting and pinning it into an elegant updo, while Tessa's brushes danced across my face, accentuating features I never knew I had.
As they worked, I closed my eyes, trying to center myself. "You nervous, sweetie?" Mara asked, her voice gentle.
I opened my eyes, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "Terrified," I admitted, surprising myself with my honesty.
