My heart stutters in my chest.
What does Connor want withme?
I take the envelope and it’s heavy.
I swallow.
Whatever’s inside, I’m not going to like it.
I break the seal and pull out the letter, my eyes scanning the words quickly.
Then slower.
Then again, because I can’t possibly be reading this correctly.
But I am.
Is this a fuckingjoke?
It’s a proposal, but not the romantic kind that comes with flowers and a bent knee and declarations of love.
It’s a business proposal. A marriage alliance.
Me to Cillian Brennan, sealing the peace between our families once and for all and ensuring the truce holds.
Binding Santoro and Brennan together through blood and marriage and the children we’d be expected to produce.
I…what? Am I being Punk’d?
I look up at Cillian, searching his face for any reaction.
Is he in on this?
Did he know?
Is this why he’s really here?
He’s stone-faced and unreadable.
But there’s something in his eyes that looks like fury or resignation or even both.
“Did you know about this?” I hiss out, unsure how I’m still breathing.
“I found out this morning.” His jaw clenches. “Connor handed me the letter at breakfast and said he was sending a copy to you tonight.”
The letter is damp in my palm. “And?”
Cillian’s brow furrows in confusion. “And what?”
“And how do you feel about it?” I ask impatiently. “About being ordered to marry a Santoro?”
His full lips curl into a disgusted sneer. “I’m as thrilled as you look.”
Anger rises in my chest, consuming me.
I’m not a pawn.
I’m not some bargaining chip to be traded between families.