4

Solana

I didn't speak with my mother. Verbally though. But I could feel her eyes as they followed me about, the grief in them shinning so bright, it was heart wrenching to meet her gaze as I faced Abel Montes, the new Lord of my life. She'd been against the idea of caving in to Norman Stravkos' outrageous demands, stating that she'd already lost a daughter and couldn't lose the other. But her words hadn't been reasonable. Surely, the contract I'd signed together with Abel would hold no water in any court of law, but I very well knew the consequences if I hadn't signed it. If I'd ran away, just like Helen had done. They would all pay with their lives — and Norman Stravkos would hunt me to the ends of the earth. He wouldn't rest until he'd successfully eliminated every single member of the Williams family.

Every single one of them.

I swallowed hard, turning slightly to glance at Helen and her son again. At Mother, my uncles and cousins. At the family I'd grown up in. The people who nurtured me.

I was like a thin thread, keeping them all alive. They were all counting on me.

I have to make them proud. I have to put an end to this madness, once and for all.

Abel straightened to his full height as I approached, pulling open the limousine's door. Standing at the other side of the square, he appeared taller than his six foot eight. He watched me come over patiently, trying to be polite and act civilized in front of the reporters no doubt. I wondered fleetingly if his hesitation six years ago was borne out of a genuine concern, or if he was simply faking it. If he relished seeing me like this. Seeing me suffer, against my will.

I'd always viewed the Stravkos men as psychopaths. He wasn't any different from his father. They always wanted to dominate. To own. It made them go nuts.

I glanced back at Helen for one last time, and regretted not holding her hand when she'd reached out. But I had every reason not to. For the last six years I'd been shut away at a Catholic girls school I hated more than anything. After I'd gotten my high-school degree, Norman Stravkos had me placed in an Elite college located in the outskirts of town, and totally cut off every communication I had with my family. While studying, even though I'd been closely monitored once in a while, I'd been free. I was my own companion and only friend. I could do whatever I wanted, at whatever time I wanted, without having to answer to anyone.

Not once did she visit. Not once did she ask of me. She left me to suffer a fate that was rightfully hers, and didn't have the decency to know how I felt. To know how I was holding up.

Now I was done with schooling it was time to assume my position in Abel's life. As his wife. His property. His possession. I couldn't do as I pleased anymore, and I had to answer to him because he was my head. My Lord. Sometimes I pinched myself to check I wasn't in a bad dream. A lot of times, I wished to wake up and find out this was all a terrible nightmare, and that I was still home, with Helen, Mother and Father — everyone I held dear to me complete. That I could tell Mother about it, and she would assure me it would all be okay.

But it was reality, and now I would move into the Stravkos mansion, and bear their name. Perhaps, bear a heir as well for Abel. My life would be theirs and my presence would always serve as a fond reminder of their victory of my father. Over my family.

Surely, Abel would expect me to be a model wife. To cower at his every command.

God, this is so sickening.

Taking a deep breath, I crossed the square, my wind tossing my veil over my head, exposing my face. Eyes shot at me from all corners, the crowd watching me go to him. His face was still expressionless as I neared. I wasn't sure if he'd ever smiled once in his entire life. I didn't care too. Reaching him, I halted, setting a few inches space between us, our eyes locked.

“Solana.” He breathed, his eyes skimming over every little detail of my face. A cold shiver ran down my spine, my knees wobbling.

I was blank, not knowing what to say. I'd spent long nights practicing, perfecting a cold pep talk for this moment. Years. Yet, now it was here, I stood, tongue-tied like a fool.

From the corners of my eyes, I sighted Norman Stravkos approach, grinning from ear to ear. A surge of disgust and hatred spiked in my chest. Abel's brow creased in a slight confusion. “Is everything all right?”

His tone was formal, his words guarded. I shook my head, clearing my throat. “I wrote a letter asking you not to come. It wasn't necessary.”

“Nonsense, girl,” Norman chuckled as he reached us now. “Your father was a dear friend to me in the latter days of his life. We came to pay our condolences. It's the right thing to do.”

I resisted the urge to snort. “You're sure that's the only reason you came?”

He smirked, truimph brimming in his eyes. He didn't even have the decency to behave himself at least until my father was placed in the ground. Leaning in, he whispered gently. “I didn't want to deprive myself the opportunity to bid my long-time rival a hearty farewell. Sad he was being kicked out of the chess board a little too soon, don't you think? Now I can easily take control of everything he owns. Everything that should've been rightfully mine.”

Something snapped within my chest, my fists curling, fluid anger coursing through my veins, rage sizzling beneath the surface of my skin. He sensed the shift in my demeanor and promptly backed away, but it was too late. I'd already gotten him across his cheeks, my acrylic nails digging fiercely into his skin and drawing blood. He cussed, twisting further away. When I looked up at a shocked Abel, Norman had already recovered — reddening with fury, just like the colour of his blood that stained his cheek.

I stood my ground, my gaze unwavering, though my heart thrummed wildly against my chest. I expected him to hit me. To pull my hair or threaten to make my life miserable.

But instead, Abel gripped my arm, his face tight as he ordered. “Apologize.”

“In a parallel universe, perhaps I would,” I retorted, glaring right back at Norman.

Andrew and Andre, Abel's brothers who stood watching the scene from a few metres off, came running. They shot the crowd zeroing in on the drama with warm smiles — Andrew throwing an arm around Norman's shoulder, and Andre taking his hand. Beside me, Abel bristled.

“What the hell is going on here? Everyone's watching,” Andrew surveyed me with his signature haunting eyes. “It'd be in your best interest to keep your claws to yourself next time, Miss. You wouldn't be so lucky.”

“Apologize,” Abel repeated, gritting his teeth. His hold tightened.

I cocked my head to the side. “Since you're so he'll bent on making me apologize, well then here's my apology. I'm sorry I got a cheek, instead of an eye. Next time, I wouldn't miss. I promise.”

Andrew recoiled in horror, and Abel muttered a curse under his breath.

“Ignore her, Father,” Andre pleaded, just when I thought Norman would explode. “We've got plenty of time to deal with her later.”

“You're a menace. In.” Abel huffed, his other hand gripping my waist as he pushed me into the limousine.

“Don't touch me,” I growled, trying to shake him off. He climbed in after me and shut the door. The driver started the engine, and Abel pinned me down on the soft leather seats, his weight crushing me. My hands pushed against his chest, but he was much more stronger than I was.

“You're digging your own grave going against my father like that,” he bit out, his minty breath fanning against my cheek harshly. “If he wanted, he could've shot you and your family down right there.”

“I'm not afraid,” I spat out, shaking violently. “I'm not scared of him. Let him do his worse, I won't let my father be insulted like that.”

At last he relented, lifting off me to sit. I gasped in relief, scooting farther away from him, a sob threatening to escape my throat. No. I wouldn't cry. Never.

I felt his gaze linger on me, a new admiration seeping into his features. He admired my courage. He admired how determined I was not to be cowered by a man as powerful and dangerous as his father.

It was all the motivation I needed. I refused to be at their mercy. I refused to be a slave to their whims.

I refused.