Page 10 of Torn Souls

While I don’t know what my father gains, I’m sure it’ll all become clear soon enough. Speculating without enough information is useless. And I don’t have time for it.

My heart is racing along with my thoughts. I can wish I had more time to plan all I want, but the reality is that I’m not going to be able to avoid going to dinner.

“You will be on your best behavior this evening,” he commands. Not waiting for a response, or not wanting one, his words keep coming. “Not only will your manners and attire be above reproach, but you will be charming. You’re only of use to me if you are on Volkov’s arm.”

The lump in my throat grows with his words. As much as I know my father will never be who I wish he was and I’ll neverknow his love, it’s not easy to hear how little I mean to him. He only sees my worth in terms of a man.

Indignation flares in my chest, but I swallow down all the words trying to claw their way up my throat. Talking back to him would not be welcomed.

“Once Volkov has agreed with the terms of your union, I expect you to keep in contact with me.” I suck in a breath, the dread in my gut growing. “If you overhear something pertinent, you will tell me.”

“Pertinent to what?” I can’t stop the question from slipping from my lips and I feel the way my face drains of color.

The chuckle that rumbles from my father’s chest feels like tar slipping along my skin as if teasing me with pulling me under. “That’s not for you to understand,” he sneers.

My father sits back in his chair, his hawkish gaze fixated on me. His eyes weigh me, analyzing everything.

Every breath.

Every twitch.

Every moment stretched between us as his silence blankets the room. If this were any other day, if we weren’t having an important dinner, I have no doubt my father would be expressing his displeasure at my impertinence with his hands and strength.

He’s not muscular, but he’s remained fairly fit. I have no doubt the only reason he’s exercised at all is for the chance of being able to remind me of my place.

As if I could ever forget.

“You will make sure you are tied to Volkov as tightly as you can. A ring won’t be enough.” I stop breathing, the reality of his expectations washing over me.

“What?” I breathe out the question.

My mind is screaming at me, trying to convince me that my own father is not suggesting what I think he is. He wouldn’t.

But I know the truth. He would. He has.

“Trap him. Get pregnant as quickly as you can after the ceremony,” his voice is cold and calculating.

The feeling of my heart sinking, something I should be accustomed to when it comes to the man in front of me, is nothing new. But still.

His command has nothing to do with wanting a grandchild to dote on. All he’s concerned about is what my body can gain him and who he can barter me to and for what.

“Use whatever,” he pauses as if searching for the right word, “charms you need to. I expect you to insnare the man. You will do whatever it takes to keep Volkov. If it means a baby, then do it.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’re worth more than that anyway.”

My heart sinks. Popping out a few babies is all I’m good for. If only this were the first time I’ve heard something like that.

“Yes, Father,” I murmur softly, my lips barely moving.

Exhaustion threatens to pull me under while my shoulders desperately want to slump. I don’t move though, not yet. I can’t.

His eyes are too calculating. Showing him even a little sliver of weakness would be a mistake right now.

It’s almost ironic. He wants me to be weak, malleable, submissive. But he also expects me to stand strong while faced with everything he’s laid at my feet.

I want to scream in his face and beg him to tell me how he demands so much from me without giving me anything in return. But I’m not stupid. Losing my cool would not be a good idea right now.

He wouldn’t hurt me, not before dinner, but there’s always after.

Who knows what will happen to anger my father at dinner? The myriad of unknowns has my stomach flipping and tensing. My life has always been a minefield.

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