I nod, wondering what he’ll show me.
I’m not prepared.
He pulls one picture after another up on his laptop.
“This is Leith, the current Captain. Married man, faithful to his wife, so he won’t be an option. Tate, the middle son, may be an easy target. And the last of the brothers is Mac.” He frowns. “There are two sisters, as well…” but I don’t hear the rest of his words.
No.
Time stands still as I stare at Mac’s picture. It's not a recent one, easily several years old. He's maybe eighteen or nineteen years old in this picture. But I recognize those blue eyes.
I look at my father sharply. Does he know about today? I don't think he could, because he would accuse me of betrayal in that vein as well.
I had no idea who Mac was. No idea.
Does he know who I am?
I focus back on what my father’s saying, hoping that he can’t see that I’m visibly shaken.
“You will find Mac. Befriend him. Do whatever it is that convinces a man to…fall for a woman.” He waves his hand vaguely, because he doesn’t know of these things. He’s never known love. He shuts his laptop, scowling. Meets my eyes. “And then I want you to destroy him.”
Destroy him.
The words replay in my mind in an endless loop, and I feel as if I’m going to be sick. I can see Mac’s bright blue eyes smiling at me, still feel his possessive grip on my neck, still hear his gentle voice.
Destroy him.
He goes on about what he expects, what I’m to do next. He’ll give me money, a car, and numerous resources to do this well. In the vague recesses of my mind, I’m aware that I can use these to my advantage, but I can’t seem to string logical thoughts together.
“All this to get out of being punished by you?” I stare at him, surprised that my betrayal was taken so seriously that he’s ready to levy such severe consequences.
“Aye, Bryn, and you ought to know that by now,” he says with a shake of his head. “But also because you’ve no choice at your age. Because like your sisters, your only option is to be wed to another family to strengthen ours. It’s your duty.”
Bile rises in my throat.
I manage to choke out a question.
“When do you need my answer?”
I hate the idea of betraying Mac.
But did he betray me?
Does he know who I am? How could he? And I thought he was just a nice guy, someone who actually showed concern.
“You can tell me tomorrow morning,” my father says, as if he’s making some type of benevolent gesture or granting me leniency.
I nod. “I’ll give you my answer then.”
I prepare for the evening in a sort of daze, horrified at the options before me. I have three, as far as I can see.
Agree to be married, sight unseen, to a veritable stranger. The very thought...
No way.
Seduce Mac. Make him fall in love with me. Then ruin him.
I shudder. That sounds possibly worse. How could I live with myself?
Or third. I could escape. Run away.
But where? How? And how would I prevent my father from finding me?
I will myself not to cry as I run a mascara brush through my eyelashes. My hand shakes, and the brush stains my cheek, giving me an almost macabre look. I stare at it for long moments before I clean it off.
The excitement I had from earlier has dwindled to nothing but a dull ache in my heart.
Tonight, I’ll see Mac again. And in a sick twist of fate, I have to accept that he either already knows who I am, or he’s going to. And when he does, what happens next will determine our future.
I can’t bring myself to destroy anyone, much less the one man who’s ever shown me attention and kindness. My father’s demand is sick and twisted, and I hate the very thought.
I consider standing him up, just not showing at all.
I actually even consider the arranged marriage situation. Ugh, I can’t. I don’t care if it’s to the hottest guy in the world. Men of the mob are cruel. They inspire hatred and violence.
God.
Mac’s one of them, too.
I look through my clothes, flipping through them disinterestedly. Everything seems dull and lifeless, and I have no interest in doing this at all.
I glance at the time, when my mobile dings.
Mac.
My heart doesn’t skip a beat like it did before. Now I stare at it with a mixture of dread and longing. I sigh, and glance at the screen.
Mac: Counting down the minutes. I’m here a little early. Can I order you a drink while I wait?
I glance at the time and swallow the need to cry. I feign excitement.
Bryn: You’re early!
Mac: Couldn’t wait any longer.
I sigh. God, he’s a charmer, though, isn’t he?