By the time the clock struck eight, my nerves were strung tight. Selene had returned earlier with another dress, simpler than the first, but elegant enough to remind me that nothing in this house was casual. She helped me change, silent as always, then left me alone with the weight of expectation.
Now I stood in the dining room doorway, my fingers curling against the frame. The long table gleamed beneath the chandelier, set for two. Daniel Voss sat at the head, one hand resting against a glass of red wine, the other idly tapping against the polished wood.
His gaze lifted the moment I entered. "Sit."
The single word carried the weight of command, and my legs obeyed before my mind could protest. I sank into the chair opposite him, the air heavy with silence.
No food had been served yet. Just water, wine, and the pressure of his eyes on me. I wished for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
Finally, he spoke. "Your father owes me more than he can ever repay. Money, influence, favors. His name is practically dust in my hands."
I swallowed, throat dry. "Then why… why me?"
"Because he offered you," Daniel said without hesitation. "And because I accepted."
His calmness chilled me. "You could've said no."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me as though I were missing the point. "Refusing a gift would have been… impolite."
My chest tightened, anger and fear tangling together. "I'm not a gift. I'm not property."
His mouth curved faintly, not quite a smile. "No. You're just here as payment. But things will change."
I hated the way my pulse jumped at those words, hated that a part of me wanted to understand what he meant. "Change?" I asked, cautious.
Daniel leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass. "Marriage," he said evenly, as though the word was no more significant than a business contract.
The room seemed to tilt. My hands tightened around the edge of the chair. "Marriage?" I repeated, incredulous.
"Yes." He set the glass down, eyes never leaving mine.
The words knocked the breath out of me. "You can't be serious---"
"I am always serious," he replied calmly. "It will formalize everything, make it binding. I'll speak with your father about it."
Heat rushed to my face. "No. You can't. He has no right to decide that for me."
His gaze was steady, unyielding. "He already decided to hand you over. You belong to me now. The marriage is just a way to make things seem less complicated."
My father's words replayed in my head: she's all yours.
I shook my head, struggling to find air. "That's insane. I don't even know you."
It was beyond insane. I couldn't imagine getting married to someone I just found out about days ago. Someone I was handed over to like some property.
"You will."
I stared at him, searching for a crack, a flicker of weakness, anything human beneath the cold command. But his face was carved from stone, unyielding.
Finally, food was brought in—plates set before us by silent staff who left as quickly as they came. I couldn't touch mine. My stomach was too tight, too twisted.
Daniel cut his food calmly, unbothered by my silence.
I sat frozen, my heart hammering against my ribs. The taste of iron lingered on my tongue, fear mixing with disbelief. My life had gone downhill in just a few days. A few days ago I was thinking about how I was going to start my own business—Mara's Deluxe Boutique. I had been head over heels discussing my plans with my best friend, Trish. Crazy how things can turn around within a blink of an eye.
The rest of Dinner continued in absolute silence.