Running from hell isnʼt easy. Especially when thereʼs someone dragging you back down into it.
Belligerent, brash and always in shades of black, Freya is hardly a lady. Hidden away by her father, sheʼs lived a normal life despite being born into the...
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BRIGHT LIGHT floods mylids, and I blink them open painfully, rustling in the sheets before releasing a groan. Next to me, Ana is still tucked in, looking annoyingly perfect. Before I can look to the source of the light, I’m painfully yanked out of the bed by my arm.
“What the—”
“Get up!” Mama’s voice seethes in my ear.
I pull my arm out of her grip, rubbing on the sore muscle with a frown on my face. “Why?”
Mama glares at me with an irritation. “They are coming for you today. And I don’t want any trouble, do you hear me? You Papa is still not fully recovered. You need to be ready when they arrive.”
Still half asleep, I trudge into the bathroom, slipping out of my clothes before stepping into the shower. The warm water soothes my skin and nurses me back to reality and when I come out, Mama’s supervising as the maids pack away my things.
She fixes me with an unimpressed glare. “Don’t look at me like that, you ungrateful girl.”
I clear my features of any apparent emotions, averting my gaze.
She crosses her arms. “You were supposed to pack your things, now I have to do it.”
Technically, she isn’t actually doing anything, the maids are, but I’m not in the mood to start another one of her tantrums. I shift on my feet, supressing a sigh. “Well…thank you.”
“No need.” She waves a dismissive hand. “That d’yavol choosing to marry you has made me the happiest I’ve been in a while.”
I press my lips together, but somehow the words still fall from my mouth. “I thought you wanted Ana to marry him.”
She lifts her chin. “I did. But then I cut my losses and raised my ambitions. Ana will find someone better than Torren Costa. He is perfect for you.”
Right. She doesn’t care that I’m moving out. In fact, it’s what she wanted. I swallow, looking around. I’ll miss everything about this home. Even being chastised and berated by Mama makes my heart ache. And thinking about leaving makes me want to start crying, but I hold back the tears.
The maids carry my bags downstairs, and I hold as much as I can in my own arms as I follow them down. I can feel Mama’s presence lingering as she descends the staircase behind me.
Suddenly, the tall wood front door of the house opens. Torren’s cousin, Luca, stands on the other side with his hands in his pockets. Instead of chastising him for walking into our house like he owns it, Mama looks mildly surprised. “I thought you would send a driver.”
