The study smelled of cigar smoke and Woody Cologne.
I stood in front of my father's massive oak desk, my fingers digging into the polished wood until my nails threatened to splinter it. The weight of the diamond engagement ring on my finger.
"You can't do this." I said while in a kneeling position, My voice was raw, stripped down to desperation.
My father didn't look up from his ledger. "It's done, Penelope."
"No." I slammed my palm down, making the crystal decanter tremble. "You don't get to sell me to a monster and pretend it's business as usual!"
Finally, he lifted his gaze. His eyes—the same shade of hazel as mine—were cold. Unmoved. "Vincent de Rosa is the most powerful man in this city. You should be thanking me."
A hysterical laugh clawed up my throat. "Thanking you? He's a drug lord. A murderer!"
"He's your fiancé now," my father corrected, his tone final. "And you will stand beside him at that altar tomorrow, or so help me God"
"Or what?" I interrupted, my voice breaking. "You'll disown me? Cut me off?" I leaned in, my next words a venomous whisper. "You've already done both."
For the first time, something flickered in his expression, guilt? But it was gone before I could seize it.
"This marriage secures our family's future," he said, as if that justified everything. "Vincent's empire protects us now."
"From what?" I demanded. "From the mess you made? From promises you've broken?
His jaw tightened. "Enough!."
"No!" I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look at me. "I'm your daughter. Please Don't make me do this."
For a heartbeat, I thought I saw his resolve crack. Then he pulled away, straightening his cufflinks with a sigh.
"You'll learn to love him," he lied.
And just like that, I knew there would be no mercy here.