Page 955 of One More Kiss

“One thing confuses me.” I keep my tone innocuous. “Why wouldn’t she want to marry Ludovit?”

Before my father can answer, Joaquin snorts. “Apparently, she’s afraid of him. We thought that was a lie to cover her liaison with you, but I don’t think that’s the case any longer. You aren’t acting like a scorned lover… seems she might actually be frightened of him.”

The disbelief that colors his tone doesn’t sit right. Ludovit confirmed his sociopathic tendencies years ago. My brother has taken delight in torturing anything weaker than him, since he was old enough to form his fingers into a fist.

One look at father, and I can tell he’s having similar thoughts.

Visions of Ophelia at tonight’s ball invade my mind. She’s tall, curved in the right places, but has an ethereal quality to her. The translucent skin and elegantly slim limbs she had on display in her show-stopping dress will prove a poor match for Ludovit’s brutish ways. I’ve been tasked with paying off enough young women after they’ve spent a night in his wing of the mansion to know the kind of painful proclivities my brother gets off on.

Suddenly, the collar of my shirt is too tight, and I can hardly breathe.

Allowing my father to see that I care about her would be a fatal mistake. I need to get out of here before the thought of my brother hurting Ophelia makes me break into a fit of rage, and I show them both just how much she affects me.

But before I go, I have one final question. “What’s my role in this?”

“The girl’s father is on board, obviously,” he hedges.

“Obviously.”

From the side of my eye, I spy Joaquin fighting off a grin.

My father ignores my sarcasm. “He has his wife under control, although she’s raised some concerns. The problem is the girl. I wouldn’t put it past her to run. She’s a bit of an oddball. Not interested in looking pretty or keeping her mouth shut. She volunteers at soup kitchens and fills their estate with mangy rescue dogs.”

As he describes Ophelia, the hollowness in my stomach turns leaden. She really is too perfect for this world; a girl born with a platinum spoon in her mouth who manages to remain kind. Another flash of protectiveness mingles with the dread in my gut. It expands until my chest feels like it’s trapped in a vise, and I can’t catch my breath properly.

“I want you to ensure the girl doesn’t run. Anyway. Anyhow. I don’t care. This is happening. The Rocafort-Porra’s have gotten too big for their boots and the head council has voted to consolidate our families.”

My mind races as the implications become clear—this isn’t his plan. He’s doing the bidding of the Catalonian Trinity. It’s the only council with the power to make a decision that effects another Trinity.

“If she doesn’t make it down the aisle, I’ll put a bullet in your sister’s head.” For some reason, Joaquin bristles in his seat, but I don’t have time to fully register the change in his demeanor because my father issues his final ultimatum, “Either the girl marries Ludovit or your sister dies.”

His voice is filled with the promise of retribution if I challenge his orders. He’s decided that I care about Ophelia. It’s the only reason he’d threaten my sister to ensure I complete this job.

Indecision plagues me. I don’t know if I can sentence Ophelia to a lifetime of abuse at Ludovit’s hands to save Elisenda.

The beautiful girl who plagues my dreams or my little sister?

It’s an impossible choice.

My mind frantically searches for a way out, and I keep coming back to the same point.

One Rocafort-Porra daughter. Two Noguera-Tomás sons.

Is the solution that simple?

Can I take Ophelia for myself and save Elisenda at the same time?

“Do we have a deal?” he demands.

“Yes,” I state with false assurance in my voice. “It’s a deal.”

---