Chapter 16–Seven Days

Natasha’s POV. 

My father sat on the couch, slumped slightly, his usual flawless appearance completely undone. His shirt was wrinkled, stained faintly with blood near the collar. A fresh bruise darkened the side of his face. There was a small cut just above his brow, dried blood trailing down toward his temple. 

Victoria stood nearby, pacing, her hands trembling slightly despite how composed she was trying to look. 

“What happened?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. 

My father straightened immediately, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Natasha—”

“You happened!” Victoria snapped at me. 

My steps slowed. “What do you mean?”

Victoria laughed. A dark, twisted sound. “Like you don’t know. I’m sure Father has told you everything. If you had just thought about anyone but yourself for once.”

That was when I realized she knew. A dry laugh escaped my lips. “Wow,” I said quietly. “So you knew?” I dragged a hand down my face. “Why am I even surprised?”

“You know what,” I said slowly. “I don’t have it in me to argue with you.” I faced my father. “What happened?” I asked, slower this time. “And we need to get you cleaned up.”

I didn’t wait for him to respond. I turned immediately, heading toward the cabinet near the hallway where the first aid kit was kept. My fingers fumbled slightly as I pulled it open, grabbing the box and shutting the door harder than I intended. 

When I returned, my father was still on the couch. Victoria had stopped pacing, watching me with folded arms. 

I dropped the kit on the table and sat next to him without thinking, flipping it open. 

I soaked a cotton pad with antiseptic. The sharp smell hit immediately. For a second, I hesitated—my eyes lingering on the cut above his brow, the dried blood along his temple. “This might sting,” I said. 

Then I gently pressed the cotton against the cut. He sucked in a sharp breath, but didn’t pull away. 

“Sorry,” I murmured, even though I didn’t stop. 

I cleaned around the wound carefully, wiping away dried blood in slow strokes. The more I cleaned, the clearer the damage became. Not deep—but not something that came from a little fall either. 

My jaw tightened. 

I reached for another piece of cotton, this time moving to the bruise along his cheek. I had seen a tiny bruise two days ago, but this… was deeper. 

I swallowed, focusing on what I was doing. I cleaned the blood near his collar next, unbuttoning the top of his shirt just enough to see where it had spread. My movements slowed slightly—not out of hesitation, but something else entirely. 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” I said, still attending to  his wounds. 

He exhaled slowly. “The syndicates got to me,” he said. “They said enough time had passed and I needed to pay them what I owed.”

I reached into the kit again, pulling out a piece of clean gauze and taped it carefully above his brow. My fingers brushed against his skin as I secured it in place. 

“I told them I needed more time,” he continued. “They weren’t having it. They seized my car. Beat me up. Told me the only reason they hadn’t put a hit on my family was because of the rumors about my alliance with Tristan.” He tapped his fingers against his leg. “They weren’t sure—just rumors, but they’re giving me fourteen days. After that, they’d strike.”

The room fell quiet again.  

Victoria was already seated on the couch across from us. 

I stood slowly, not sure of what to say. I paced the living room, then stopped. I looked at my father. Really looked. What exactly was going through his mind when he had promised investors high returns? What the hell was he thinking? Now we were all paying for it. 

I let out a quiet breath. “So what are we going to do?” I asked the only question that mattered. 

Victoria scoffed. “What are we going to do? Are you seriously asking that right now?”

I turned to her. “Please, Vic, what was I supposed to ask? Enlighten me. Because from where I stand, this isn't looking good for either of us,” I said, my voice rising. “And if you’re talking about Tristan, I don’t know, Victoria. Father probably ruined that part too. As much as you both try to blame me for it, he brought this upon us.”

“You probably know that by now since I’m always the last person to find out about everything.” 

Victoria stood, walking toward me. “Sure, dad didn’t tell Tristan the whole truth. He did what he had to do. But you… you had the chance to say yes to the agreement. The chance to make things right.”

I shook my head. “Sometimes, I wonder if you think before you speak, or you just choose to be stupid,” I fired back. Her face twisted in rage, but I didn’t care. “Would it have changed anything if I’d agreed sooner? Wouldn’t Tristan have found out about any of it? It still doesn’t change the fact that father lied! He got into businesses he wasn’t supposed to,” I paused, trying to contain my anger, “We should be looking for ways to save this family.”

“Enough!” My father’s voice cut through the room. I hadn’t even noticed he was still seated. 

“Can’t you girls go one day without being at each other’s throats? We have bigger issues at hand, and all you can think of is arguing.”

“And you’re right about one thing,” he said, his attention shifting to me. “We should be looking for ways to save this family—which is why you’ll be meeting Tristan tomorrow.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t know about that, Dad. The same way you sold me off is the same way you should speak to him. Didn’t you say I should get in line and you’d handle Tristan? Well… now is the time.”

“I’m not exactly his biggest fan right now,” my father said. “He mentioned something about his grandmother liking you. We could use that to our advantage.”

A hollow laugh slipped past my lips. “Classic Marcus. Always looking for the easiest way out. You never cease to amaze me.”

“Can you just cooperate?” Victoria hissed. “It would take nothing from you—”

“Oh, please, Victoria!” I cut in quickly. “If you care so much, why don’t you do us all a favor, hmm?”

My father pushed himself to his feet, his hand pressing tightly against his stomach. “Natasha—fuck.” He winced. 

I moved closer to him without thinking, guiding him back down. “Easy, father.”

“This is all I’m asking for, Natasha,” he said. “Just meet with him—or his grandmother possibly, at least. If he  doesn’t—”

A phone rang, sharp against the silence. It was my father’s. He reached for it in his pocket. His face twisted slightly. “It’s Tristan,” he announced. 

My heart tightened at the sound of his name. 

He hesitated, then straightened before answering.  “Hello, Tristan.”

“The wedding is in seven days.” 

The air in the room suddenly felt heavy. My pulse thundered in my ears. I knew I had agreed to do this for my family.

But I didn’t think he’d go through with it. Not this fast. It made no sense. 

Seven days? Married to him? To a man I didn’t love? No. 

I wanted to scream. To call it off. To do something—anything. 

But then I thought about what was at stake. The company. My family. And the cost—my happiness? 

I didn’t know when the call ended. I didn’t hear what was said. My head spun. Tears burned my eyes. 

“Natasha.” The voice sounded distant. I couldn’t tell if it was Victoria or my father. 

Victoria snapped her fingers. “Hey!” 

I looked up, not even sure when she had moved in front of me. “I need a moment,” I said, turning and taking the stairs two at a time. 

I stepped into my room and shut the door. Tears streaked down my cheeks. 

“I can’t do this.”

My voice broke on the words. The truth settled heavy in my chest. 

Seven days. 

That was all I had left… before I became his.