Page 140 of Bride By Coronation

My stomach flips faster. I grab a bottle of red, fill both glasses, and go back into the main area. I hold a glass out to her. " Here. Let's have a drink."

Her eyes widen, and the color drains from her face.

A shiver runs down my spine. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her gaze fixes on my neck. Her voice quivers when she asks, "Why do you have plastic wrap on your neck?"

My pulse skyrockets. I reach up and touch the plastic.

Mom's voice goes hollow. "Why would you do that to your neck?" She doesn't have to see it to know what's there. She knows what I did based on what Zara did to her own neck.

I swallow the lump in my throat, unsure how to respond.

She steps behind me and moves my hair, gasping. I don't have to look at her to know tears are falling from her eyes. She sobs, "What is with my children? Are you doing this to have your father haunt me? Is that what you want?"

I've never felt so bad in my life. I turn, replying, "No, Mom. Of course not."

"Then why would you, Sean, and Zara do this? I don't understand, and I want answers," she demands.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

She steps closer, closing the gap between us, and seethes, "Don't tell me you did this as a tribute to your father."

I lie. "I did. Just like Sean and Zara. Why is it such a big deal?"

Shocked at my response, she points out, "You were just as disgusted as I was when you saw what they did to themselves."

I shrug, attempting to play it off as not a big deal. "Yeah, but they healed. It looks cool on them."

"It does not," she cries out as more tears stain her cheeks.

I lift my chin and square my shoulders. "You can't blame us for wanting a permanent reminder of something our father created."

"Like hell I can't," she shrieks.

I cross my arms. "It is what it is, Mom. Let it go."

She glares at me. "I don't understand this, Fiona. You, of all people—you're levelheaded. Why would you run off and marry a Petrov? And he's nothing like the type of guy you normally date! I don't understand any of this."

I hate that I can't tell her everything, but I know I can't.

Mom adds, "You have to get this marriage annulled tomorrow. I'll call Kora. She'll know what to do."

"No. I told you I'm not divorcing Kirill!" I cry out.

Disgust fills her expression. "What do you mean 'no'? You cannot be married to a Petrov. You know this."

"Mom, I'm not divorcing him. Not now or in the future," I insist.

"I don't get it, Fiona. What does he have over you?" she asks with concern.

"He doesn't have anything over me," I quickly reply.

"He has to. You would never date a man like him," she claims.

Angrily, I reply, "Don't ever speak ill of my husband again."

She glares at me.

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