VIOLA
Istare at the windswept trees and the green and yellow rolling hills. I stare at the stagnant pond in the middle of a wild English garden, plagued with reeds and scared floating lilies.
I stare and listen to the conversation between Dante and Adrien….
And nothing makes sense anymore.
Adrien is not my father.
The buzzing under my skin is back with a vengeance. Did it ever go away? No, my love, I’m here. I’ve always been here. Keeping you safe, protecting you from everything….
As long as you kill for me.
“Are you ready?” I glance over, ripping my gaze from the window. Saskia is standing there, in her bridesmaid dress, skirts in one hand, clipboard in the other, with one of those earpieces over her head. “The guests are waiting.” She tilts her head, looking withdrawn. “So are the boys.”
The boys.
“V, you know what needs to be done,” Dante says in my ear, speaking directly to the microphone in the necklace. “We have a deal,” he reminds me.
You fucker, D. He knew I’d be listening. He knew telling me this would make me pause. That’s why he left it so late. He waited until the moment before I was about to get fucking married to reveal everything in my fucking life to be a lie.
This whole thing…is a setup.
A betrayal.
A stab in the heart.
Just like you did to him.
Edrei Savino is Adrien Harper-Black. And he’s not my father.
“Viola, are you coming?” Saskia asks me, her face pale as the white flowers adorned in her raven hair.
White.
So much white.
I should have worn red so you couldn’t see the blood.
I drag in a breath and nod. “Let’s just fucking get this over with.” It has to be now. I’m primed for it. Everyone is here and exposed, just waiting to be plucked. They’ll all go into hiding when Adrien, my so-called father, dies. Every fucker, whoever had any connection to him. I can’t afford to lose the advantage.
I’ll have to deal with him first.
Then I’ll deal with Dante later.
Ave Maria begins to play the moment I step into the vestibule. Adrien is waiting with his hands folded, one over the other. His dark eyes sweep over me as he offers me his arm.
I stop and look at it, willing my body to take the last step.
But I’m frozen in place.
“Daughter, do try me today,” he grimaces, “I’m not in the mood.”
I take his arm, and he grunts approval.
Then he turns to face the front and doesn’t look at me again. I’m just a possession that he’s selling off for a price.
A broodmare.