Page 3 of Ashes
“But you can’t!” I curl my fingers into fists, shooting him a glare as rage courses through my veins. “That family is the reason why Alex is dead! You can’t possibly want to—”
“Quiet!” my father snaps.
“No! I’m not marrying a Santarossa!” I raise my voice. “I’m not!”
He crosses the distance between us and slaps me hard across the face. His fingers wind into my hair, gripping tightly.
“You will do as I say,” he hisses. “Santarossa and I have reached an agreement. We’ve been enemies for too long. It’s hurting our business. A peace treaty will change everything for the better. You may not be able to understand it, but it’s a wise decision.”
“It’s only been three years! How can you do that to Alex? How can you do that to your son?”
“Alex is dead. Now get out of my sight and go to your room! My decision is final. You won’t ruin this. I won’t let you. And next time you open your mouth, it will only be to sayI do.” He shoves me toward the door.
It’s pointless to argue with him, and I’m so angry I can barely think, so I storm out of there.
My mother waits in front of the door to my room. Her head is bowed, a photo in her hand. She could stand like that for hours and not show any discomfort.
She looks up at me.
“Do you know?” I ask. “He wants me to marry—”
“I understand you’re worried, but you don’t have to be. Your father knows what’s best for our family, and if you do exactly what I taught you, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble with your husband. He’s not going to hurt you.”
Yes, because him hurting me is the only fucking problem here.
I despise that family.
I want them all to die.
And Victor...
I want to rip his heart out of his chest.
“Here,” my mother says, handing me the photo. “Your future husband is very handsome.”
I stare at her. “But Alex—”
“Alex’s gone, honey.” She gives me a sad look. “We all miss him, but I’m sure he’d want you to do this. Peace is what matters, and we need to forgive our enemies. We can’t be angry forever. It would destroy us.”
Oh yes, we can be fucking angry forever, and if it destroys us, so what? It doesn’t matter as long as we take our enemy down with us.
I glance at Victor’s photo.
His dark brown eyes stare back at me. His face is expressionless, his full lips pressed together. His short messy dark brown hair looks as if he just ran his hand through it when he got out of bed.
Handsome, yes, but cold, cruel, and unfeeling too.
A monster.
I scrunch up the photo and throw it to the floor.
“No,” I say. “I won’t marry him.”
My mom licks her lips. She hates arguing, or even raising her voice.
“Things could be much worse,” she says. “He’s only twenty-three. I’m sure you’ll learn how to love and take care of each other.”
Like my father takes care of you?
