I've been at this countryside estate for five days. Five days of throwing up every morning, of lying awake at night touching my still-flat stomach, of trying not to think about Axel.
And failing.
Now Dad wants me back?
Why?
"When?" I ask.
"Car leaves in an hour. Pack light. We're coming back tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Marco, what's going on?"
But he's already gone.
The drive back feels like riding to my own execution.
I'm wearing a black dress to fit how I feel inside, my hair pinned back, makeup covering the exhaustion I've been wearing for days. In the mirror, I look like myself. Put together. Composed.
Inside, I'm screaming.
What does he want? Why does he want me back for just a brief meeting?
The main estate looms into view as the sun sets, all lit up like there's a party happening. My stomach drops.
Thereisa party happening.
Cars line the driveway—expensive ones, the kind that belong to Dad's associates and their families. Through the windows, I can see people in formal wear, champagne glasses, the whole production.
"Marco." My voice comes out tight. "What is this?"
"Your father will explain." He won't meet my eyes.
The car stops, and one of the men opens my door. I step out into a nightmare.
Dad's waiting at the entrance, wearing a new suit, and the smile he uses for business. The one that doesn't reach his eyes.
"Aurora." He kisses my cheek. "You look beautiful."
"What's going on?"
"We'll talk inside." He takes my arm and starts leading me toward the door. "You're going to smile. You're going to be gracious. You're going to do exactly what I tell you. Understand?"
No. No no no—
"Dad—"
"Understand?" His grip tightens. “You have shamed me enough.”
"Yes, Papa." The word tastes like poison.
We walk inside. The foyer's packed with people I recognize—Dad's underbosses, their wives, business associates, all dressed like they're at a wedding.
Oh God.
"What is this?" I whisper.
"Your engagement party." Dad's voice is flat. "You're getting married, Aurora. To the son of my oldest friend. It's already arranged."