I nod, though I know it’s a lie. I’ll never feel proud of myself because I’m always falling short. It’s a never-ending cycle of failed attempts that only reinforces how truly miserable I am.
“How’s West acting?” she asks cautiously. “Is he giving you a hard time?”
Yes and no. I wish I could forget how he held my dress so I could pee without any trouble, but my stupid brain remembers every detail. I got drunk on purpose, and while I usually wake up feeling like I’m on another planet after a wild night, today I recall fucking everything.
“I don’t want to talk about him,” I say, clearing my throat to shake off the rasp. “I’d better start getting ready.”
It might feel good to talk to someone about him, but I don’t know what to say. West is the worst person in the world who, for a brief moment, managed to prove me wrong. I don’t trust the feelings he stirs in me, and I know that the moment we meet again, he’ll show his true colors. Yet still, a part of me keeps thinking about last night—the way he held me close, the warmth of his hands on my body, and how calm he acted.
‘It’s a fucking love language.’
For a moment, it really felt like he was in love with me. But I’m not naïve. I know who he is. He could kiss my feet and whisper the sweetest words, but I’ll never trust him. It’s only a matter of time before he pins me against the wall like he did in the elevator and starts choking me.
Marietta stands up, ready to open the curtains, but I cut in, “No. Leave them, please.”
She tilts her head, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “If I leave them closed, you’ll fall back asleep the moment I’m out of the room.”
Oh, God. It only happened once—the darkness felt too seductive for my sleepy mind, and I ended up being late for the business meeting. “I promise, I can control myself,” I insist. “I just need a moment alone.”
Marietta holds my gaze for a moment before nodding and turning to leave the room. “Hey,” she calls out, glancing over her shoulder. “You’ve got this. Okay?”
“Okay.”
She gives me one last warm glance before leaving, and as soon as the door closes, my strained smile fades. My body unwinds, and I find myself just staring at the door in silence.
I try to rise from the bed, but my muscles protest, forcing me back down. Setting the coffee aside, I grab the edges of the blanket and make myself comfortable, draping it over my head to hide from the outside world.
A moment of peace won’t kill me.
Tendrils of sleep begin to wrap around me, slowly pulling me back into the abyss. It’s so warm and cozy here that I never want to leave. I wish I could stay like this forever.
But my moment shatters when the door slams open, hitting the wall with a loud thud. Surprisingly, I don’t flinch. I already know who’s entered.
“Get up,” Dad grumbles, his tone firm and unyielding. I hear him walk to the window and fling open the curtains, letting golden beams of morning sun pierce through my silk sheets. “I said, get up!”
“A moment,” I mumble into the sheets, my eyes still closed. “Just a minute.”
He yanks the blanket from my body, exposing me to the biting cold. I press my knees to my chest, burying my face deeper into the sheets, staining them with fresh tears.
“For fuck’s sake, what did I do to deserve this?” he snaps, tossing the blanket into a corner of my room. “Stop acting like a child and get the fuck up right now!”
A sob tears through me as he pulls me down, and my bare feet hit the freezing laminate floor, the shock rippling up my legs. I cover my eyes with my hand, trying to hide my tears from him. “I don’t want to?—”
“Shut up,” he interrupts, kneeling before me and prying my hands away. “Just shut the fuck up, get up, and get ready for the meeting. Today is important. I’m taking you tohishouse so you can go together. You need to show off at his place more often. He’s a nice man, Venetia. Stop being so ungrateful.”
His words echo my mother’s from the moment she sold me to my ex-husband. The memory of her helping me prepare for that first meeting floods my mind, bringing a wave of self-repulsion so intense it makes me feel like I might vomit.
“I swear to God, if you don’t get up in twenty minutes, I’ll drag you out of here myself,” he threatens.
“Okay. But I need to run an errand first.” The words escape me before I can process them. If I’m forced to parade around like a trained monkey, maybe I can slip away for a moment to check on the new animals Harper keeps sending me pictures of.
“An errand,” he muses, a glint of suspicion in his dusky green pools. I’ve always hated that his eyes are so much like mine. “Don’t you think I know what you’re up to?”
Fear slithers up my spine at his question, and I shift in my seat. “What do you mean?”
He shakes his head. “You’re not as smart as you think you are. I know where you sneak off every time you have a free minute—changing yourself to the point of being unrecognizable, thinking no one will notice,” he snickers, a wicked laugh slipping past his lips. “You come back reeking of animals every time. It’s embarrassing.”
My mouth falls open, but no words escape. I’m rooted to the spot, the hard laminate pressing against my ass as I try to digest his words.
