Alina Pov I hate this. I hate everything about this party. I don’t know a single soul in this room, and they were all here for me, or rather, the version of me my father wanted them to see. I was still locked in my room until this morning, when the key turned the lock I thought maybe, just maybe he’d come to speak to me like a father. Instead he stood in the doorway, perfectly composed and informed me of the party as if it was a business transaction. And now here I was, standing beside him in a dress I didn’t pick to wear, wearing jewelry I don’t want, presenting myself in front of people I don’t want to see. My father turned to look at me when he mentioned my name to the audience and I forced a smile on my face. “You will be on your best behavior.” Those were his words to me before he left my room this morning, leaving no room for discussion. “Ladies and gentlemen, friends, family, and all those who’ve supported us… tonight, we raise a glass to the safe return of my daughter, Ali
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