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The sharpness of her words seem to cut through my sullen daze, because suddenly, I find my tongue again. “What does that mean?”
“It means what it means,” Anna says cryptically. “Put on a big smile and play by Dante’s rules—” she stops herself before she can go on. I can tell there’s more, but Anna seems to already be kicking herself for saying too much.
“Anna, please, tell me,” I beg. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing,” the young seamstress blurts out. “But, if something does happen, find me quick.” Her hand reaches down into the pocket where she just stashed her threading needle. “I won’t wander far, but it’s not like they’re going to let me escort you down the aisle.”
A sudden flash of hope catches in my throat.
I don’t dare consider it any further; I’m sure it will only lead to more devastating disappointment... but it might not.
Suddenly, the door to our bridal suite swings open and three huge body guards march in. I recognize them as Dante’s men. The hope in my throat fizzles out, and it’s in the pit of my gut by the time I’m being pushed to my feet.
“It’s time,” one the burly goons announces.
I take a deep breath of my own and claps my hands together as I’m shrouded in the shadows of my captors. They flank me on all sides, leading me from the privacy of my suite and down the hall of the twisted building.
This is no mansion or palace. I haven’t seen the outside yet—I was brought here in a blindfold—but the insides resemble more of an elegant state building than a home.
It only serves to make the whole ceremony seem all the colder and more oppressive. The whole country is involved in my captivity. Every government official, general and crooked chief of police; they’ve all come to see something they know is wrong, without any thought to stop it.
Our footsteps echo down the tall wide marble halls as I’m led across the building and then down an epic fantail staircase. A massive white chandelier glitters above my head and the opulence of it all only serves to make me all the sicker.
And to think, I once wanted to be a part of this dirty world—hell, I once desperately needed to be a
part of this sham. Now, I know better, but it’s too late. I’ve been caught, and now I’m about to be forced to go through something unthinkable...
I see the flashing lights of the cameras before I hear the low rumble of the large crowd gathered outside. For a split-second, I’m transported away from this gilded hell and back to simpler times. The memory of my first date with Angel fills me with a sorrowful nostalgia—would I go back in time if I could?
No, not if it meant giving up Ozzy.
Be strong, Catalina. For him. For your son.
The guards push open huge floor-to-ceiling glass doors and I’m nearly knocked off my feet.
A hot humid wind smacks me in the nose and lifts my wedding gown up so high that, for a moment, it feels like I might be lucky enough to float off and escape this whole hellish charade.
But my feet stay firmly planted on the ground and my vision quickly returns as my goonish escorts grab hold of my gown and pin it down.
Gale force winds swirl around the expansive hedged-in back lawn as I’m pushed forward. Around me, cameras flash and well-fitted socialites stand and stare. Despite the veritable hurricane that surrounds us, no one budges.
All these prim and proper people who would usually never be caught dead in such weather must be so afraid of Dante that they’re willing to brave the elements just to watch me be forced into his arms.
A little seed of anger finds its way up through my dread from the disgust I hold for them. Do something, you cowards! Don’t you know you’re all next!? Dante isn’t going to stop his cruelty with me, the more powerful you all allow him to get, the further this country will fall... and no revolution will be able to stop it.
I want to scream out loud, but it’s no use. No one would even be able to hear me over the chatter of the wind.
I sulk forward as servants crouch at the feet of the esteemed guests, holding table cloths down and catching any wayward cutlery. The onlookers let the workers worry about the wind; their eyes are only for me.
The bastards. All of them.
It’s almost comical, to see people like them flap in the wind. I’m sure every woman here spent all morning getting their hair done just right, every man picked out their best hair-piece, all for it to get ruined by nature.
I wonder if this is what Anna was getting at? Maybe a hurricane is coming, and in the resulting chaos I’ll be able to escape with her...
A girl can hope.
But then my beefy escorts close in even tighter around me and all hope is lost. They’re holding down my gown just like they’d hold me down. I’m not going anywhere.