“This dress is unreal,” Chloe says, her eyes glued to the shimmery blue fabric. “I can’t believe you get to wear a genuine Raven Windsor couture gown. That’s crazy.”
I smile at my sister, glad to see the light returned to her eyes. To say that my father was furious about the photos of Maria and Dion would be a gross understatement. I’d been prepared for the pain that normally would’ve followed, and though it came, it wasn’t in the shape I expected. All week, he’s dragged either Abigail or Chloe in front of me every single day, making me watch as he punished them for my inability to keep Dion in check. He’s never touched Chloe before, and knowing that I’m the reason he’s started to has left me feeling empty and broken inside.
The helplessness that’s swarmed me has been sickening. I’d rather he break every single bone in my body instead of this. He’s the one that kept me away from the Windsors for so long, only to get mad now that I’m not close enough to them. For years, he was scared I’d do or say something that would result in the engagement being called off, yet now I’m somehow supposed to know Dion well enough to keep him invested in me. I can do no right in his eyes, and it’s exhausting. I’m tired of trying and failing to keep my family safe.
I take a deep breath and stare in the mirror, barely recognizing myself. The color of my dress is a near-perfect match for my eyes, and even I have to admit that it’s a true piece of art. The fabric highlights my curves beautifully, and with each move, my left leg is exposed right up to my thigh. I’ve never worn something quite this revealing, and I’m somewhat surprised the Windsors would send me this at all. It seems borderline scandalous.
Would things get easier if I do as my father asked and at least attempt to keep Dion’s attention on me? In this dress, that might just be possible. I bite my lip as my head fills with memories of his hands on my body and the way he told me to be good for him. I hate to admit it, but I don’t entirely resent the thought of being with him. Not as much as I used to — and I should.
“Do you think they’ll photograph you in this the way they always do with the Windsors? Maybe they’ll put you in the gossip magazines!” Chloe asks, her excitement palpable. I was scared she’d hate me after the way Father hit her, but things between us seem unchanged, thankfully.
“I doubt it,” I answer carefully. “The only photographers allowed at the Windsors’ annual charity gala all get their cameras checked before leaving the venue. Even if they take photos of me, they won’t be allowed to keep them. Windsor Media won’t let that happen.”
The Windsors have always kept my engagement to Dion quiet, much to my relief and my father’s annoyance. I doubt that’ll change. From what I understand, they’ll wait to make a formal announcement until we’re married, to keep the press away from our wedding.
Chloe nods in understanding and runs her hands over the straps of my dress. “This is so pretty. I really want to wear it to prom,” she murmurs. “That’d be wicked. We’ll have to get it tailored, though. Or maybe once you’re married you can just get me a new one.”
I take a steadying breath, a hint of unease running down my spine. She’s young, so I understand how easy it is for her to be blinded by the luxury that comes with being a Windsor. Still, her comments don’t sit well with me.
I’m always careful not to show the girls my trepidation, my fears, but she knows this isn’t a real marriage. I won’t be able to give her whatever she wants, and I’d hope she wouldn’t ask that of me. I’d hate to let her down even further. It’s bad enough that I can’t protect her the way I thought I could.
Chloe leans in and smoothes out the fabric of my dress while I touch up my lipstick. “It’s so unfair that you keep getting these nice things while we’re left with your hand-me-downs,” she says, her expression souring. I tense, helplessness washing over me. “You’re literally about to dance the night away at an event that most celebrities can’t even get an invite to, and I have to sit at home. As if that’s not bad enough, now I also have to suffer because of your mistakes, and I don’t even get anything in return. At least you got all kinds of things from the Windsors out of it, but what about me?”
Guilt and shock render me speechless, and I lower my gaze. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I never meant for any of this to happen. I thought… Father has never hurt you before, so I thought you’d be safe if I just kept trying my best. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make sure he has no reason to be angry with any of us.” I wish I could promise her that I won’t let him hurt her again, but that isn’t a promise I can keep. Father’s anger has become volatile and unpredictable lately.
She nods, looking unconvinced and bitter. “If you’re really sorry, then let me come to the charity gala. I really want to go, Faye. Why is it that only you ever get to attend these things?”
My heart sinks, and I gently shake my head. “You know I’d bring you if I could,” I murmur. “I don’t… I don’t hold any sway with the Windsors. The guest list is carefully curated, and if I ask them to make an exception for me, it could upset them or make them feel like I’m taking advantage of their kindness. What do you think would happen if Father heard about me making such a request?”
I’ve always been told to keep my head down and speak as little as possible. I wouldn’t dare ask anything of Dion. Besides, had it been up to me, I wouldn’t even have gone myself. I always feel out of place at these events, and every single time, it’s clear that Dion doesn’t want me there. It might look glamorous from the outside, but I’m always concerned I’ll do or say the wrong thing. Attending these events feels like being on stage to play chords I’ve never even seen before, while an entire room anticipates my failure.
I tense at the sound of a sharp knock, and we both fall silent, the two of us instantly straightening our backs in the few moments before Father walks into my room.
The relentless anger in his gaze makes my stomach twist, and I draw a shallow breath as he pauses right in front of me. He’s convinced Dion is trying to get out of our arranged marriage, and if he succeeds, I’m not sure what he would do to us.
Father’s gaze roams over my body, calculating, analyzing. “Faye,” he says, his voice soft. “From what I understand, Dion only just came back this morning. He stayed in London until the very last second.” His tone is accusing, as though I have any influence over Dion’s choices. “He didn’t come back alone,” he adds, his expression turning ugly. “His secretary, Maria, is moving back with him.”
My heart clenches painfully, and I lower my gaze as the photos The Herald posted flicker through my mind. Father moves past me and grits his teeth. The malice in his eyes makes Chloe whimper, and that only further agitates him.
He reaches for her and firmly wraps his hand around her hair before yanking on it so hard that she falls to his feet. She begins to cry, and I force myself to keep my breathing steady, to stay calm.
“You’ll need to keep an eye on Maria. He’s with her every second of every day, and he has been for years,” he says as he places his shoe on the side of Chloe’s face, pressing her into the wooden floor harshly.
I try my best to keep my heart intact as my sister’s sobs fill my bedroom. It pains me that I can’t defend her against him. The first time he hit her, I tried to jump in front of her, and he warned me that he’d only double her punishment if I ever tried it again. With Dion being back, he doesn’t want to risk leaving any bruises on me, but this is far worse. Chloe doesn’t deserve to be punished for my inadequacies, yet there’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening.
“You need to steal Dion’s attention away from Maria and keep him happy. In that pretty dress, even you should be able to keep him enticed for a night,” he grits out. “Every single year, he takes you home within an hour of you arriving at the gala. Tonight, you need to make sure he keeps you around until the end of the night. If you dare come home before then, you can sleep outside, you hear me? I’ll give both Chloe and Abigail a new bruise for every minute you’re home early.”
His expression hardens then, and he kicks Chloe’s shoulder as she curls herself into a ball. “Do you need another reminder of what’s at stake?” he asks, his voice soft.
Fear runs down my spine, and I shake my head. “No, Father,” I reply instantly. If this engagement were to end, years of sacrifice would go to waste. We need the money we’ll get once I’m married. My father’s debts mean we’d lose our home if this marriage doesn’t happen, but that’d likely be the least of our worries. Chloe is still a minor, and Abigail won’t leave. If my father loses his last hope, he’d take it out on all of us, and I’m not sure I could save them.
“If you can’t get to Dion, you will need to start charming everyone around him. By the time you walk down that aisle, you’ll need to be entrenched in his life so thoroughly that there’s no way out for him without letting down his family.”
The thought of manipulating Dion and the Windsors in that way sickens me, yet I nod demurely. Is this what the rest of my life looks like? Endless manipulation and facades?
