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a man he was, the horrible things he did, but she’d never

thought he’d visit that horror upon the members of his own

family. On his wife and his daughters. How wrong she’d been.

Her father’s ambition and cruelty could never be contained in

a neat little box like she’d tried to package it into in order to

try to understand him.

There was only one language men like her father

understood, so instead of releasing the tears that threatened,

she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek until blood

flowed, iron flavored, thick and salty, and she raised her chin

in defiance.

“I’d rather be dead than marry Vincent, or any man. I’m

nineteen. There’s more to life than being someone’s

trophy.

Unloved. A peace offering on the alter of your ambition. I

won’t do it. I’ll leave.”

“What?” Antonio hissed in the face of Cassia’s words. A

thin line of spittle sprayed out and landed on the right corner

of his mouth by his lower lip. “You thought you were special?

That you were above your sisters? That you’re above me and

above sacrificing for this family as I have? You do. I can see

that. You thought you were my pet, but you’re nothing more

than an asset. Your sisters are pretty, but you are a true beauty.

I knew your worth and I kept you as an investment, sheltered

and protected you as such. You’re like a rare stone, polished

up, a currency to trade or sell. If I can’t do those things, then

you have no worth. None of us have any use for you. Don’t

think your sisters will offer you shelter either. They won’t

expend resources on you. I won’t expend the effort to hunt you

down and make you regret your choice. I won’t take you back