Page 70 of Pretty Little Princess

“Silvia,” he presses, his tone demanding my attention as he steps confidently into the room.

I flinch.

It’s reflexive, though entirely different from any response I’ve had to my brother in the past.

“What happened?” Nico demands, his voice coarse now as my reaction confirms that something went wrong.

Tentatively, I turn my head and raise my eyes to meet my brother’s. They’re filled with worry, a rare emotion for him. I glance toward the doorway of my room and the door that still sits open.

I can’t just talk freely. If I do, someone in the house might hear and take the information back to Father.

My brother understands the silent communication and closes the door before returning to my side. Taking my shoulders, he pulls me down onto the edge of the bed as his hazel gaze studies me intently.

“Talk to me, Scout. What really happened in New York? Because I know you didn’t give Father the whole story.” My brother gives my arms a reassuring squeeze before he releases me.

I can’t lie to Nico. Though I’m terrified of what will happen if I tell him the truth. Telling my brothers what goes on between Pyotr and me has only led to more trouble, more suffering on my end–even if they have the best intentions.

Still, when I look my big brother in the eye, I can’t bring myself to tell him anything less than the truth. Because I know he loves me. He wants to protect me. And while my father’s house doesn’t really feel like home,Nicodoes. Cass and Lucca do. They’re my brothers, and they mean everything to me.

I can feel the tears coming as soon as I open my mouth, their salty presence stinging the back of my eyes. I blink furiously, trying to chase them away as my gaze drops to my hands in my lap.

“Things were going so well,” I murmur. “Pyotr took me around New York City. I got to see the Met.” Nico knows how monumental that museum has been for me. I’ve talked about visiting it countless times. “We went to his house in Upstate New York….” I continue, prolonging the good stuff to postpone the bad.

Nico chuckles. “The one we riddled with bullet holes?” he jokes.

Humor’s the only way we can get past the horrible fact that we almost lost Cassio there. He could have died a hundred times over trying to help Bianka and Lucca’s girl, Ellie, escape.

I force a smile, though it feels strained. “They must have really good contractors up there. I didn’t see a single bullet hole inside the house or out.”

Nico releases a low whistle, trying to ease my tension as he pretends to be impressed. “Then what?” he urges, gently extracting the story from me.

“He taught me how to ride a horse, and we rode all around his property,” I gush, the memory of my sweet gray mare bringing my first sincere smile to my lips. “I could see it, Nico. I could really see my life in New York. I thought I might really be happy there.”

My brother’s face clouds as I clearly hedge what comes next. “And then?”

“Well, the Matron threw a party yesterday, a ball really, to celebrate our engagement.”

Nico stills, his jaw clenching, and I fall silent at his sudden anger. “She announced you into society as her son’s fiancée. It’s a bold move, one that would make it much harder to break your engagement, because now everyone knows. They’ve seen it publicly.”

I hadn’t really considered that.

Nico’s right. She had countless guests at the estate, congratulating us on our engagement.

“Well, things were going so well,” I continue, my stomach knotting painfully. “And I… thought that Pyotr and I had found a true connection. So when he walked me to my room… and he kissed me….” Hot embarrassment floods my face, and I can’t bring myself to say it.

Memories of Pyotr’s hands burning passionately against my flesh make my pulse quicken. I can’t stop the images from flooding my mind, his intense gray eyes so full of hungry desire. The feel of his arms wrapped around me as he fingered me. The overwhelming sensation of his lips caressing my most private spot.

“Did he…? Are you not…? He fucking went all the way, didn’t he?” Nico rasps, horror in his voice. “That motherfucker!” he snarls.

I jump, startled by my brother’s profanity spoken with such vehemence.

“Don’t breathe a word to Father about losing your virginity,” he states flatly. “He would be furious and might even insist the Matron push your wedding forward.”

I hadn’t even thought of that, and anxiety roils in my belly as I realize my cage has suddenly gotten so much smaller. “That’s not all,” I murmur, unable to look Nico in the eye.

“What?” he demands, tension vibrating from his body. He stands roughly from the bed to pace in front of me. “It wasn’t enough for him to violate you?”

I look up at him now, disturbed by his turn of phrase. “It was my choice, Nico. I… wanted it. He didn’t force himself on me or anything.”

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