Page 17 of Uprising

No wonder he outmanoeuvred me. Outmanoeuvred us. Roman and I didn’t stand a chance.

My mother smiles at me. She’s had surgery on her nose, she took the opportunity to augment it after our fight so now that it looks more perfect than ever.

Every time I look at her I’m dying to curl my fist up and break it all over again.

“So I’ve changed my mind about the flowers.” She says.

I blink in response. Does she really believe I give a fuck what flowers I have?

“I think we should do roses. Red roses. Every table can be scattered in red petals and it will contrast beautifully with the blush of the bridesmaid dresses.”

The bridesmaids I didn’t choose. All women I’ve barely spoken to. But then why would I? This isn’t my wedding. This is a show, a performance for the masses. We’re getting married in the damn cathedral. The President has an invitation as does several billionaires and the entire city’s elite.

It’s going to be livestreamed so all of Verona can feel like they’re there, watching their Governor, that they’re part of his family, one of us.

Just the thought of it, of standing before all their thousands of eyes, of having those cameras constantly on me while I have to not breakdown even once is why I think I can’t even accept that this is happening.

I’m too afraid. I’m too desperately hoping that something, anything might happen to put a stop to it.

But I know nothing will, short of my own death, I will be walking down that aisle and Darius will be the one, grinning, holding his hand out, forcing a ring onto my hand as I pretend this is what I want, this man is who I want.

I let out a snarl. I can’t hold it in anymore.

Darius tilts his head.

My father’s eyes practically sparkle. “I see you haven’t put a leash on her then.” He says.

Darius reaches across, putting his hand on top of mine, sending a message to me, a warning. “It’s a work in progress.” He says. “But we’re getting there aren’t we Rose?”

I gulp meeting his gaze and nod. I can’t speak. My voice seems to have dried up and my head is screaming at me to get a damn grip and stop being so bloody reckless all the time.

I’m putting Lara in danger.

My father lets out a laugh at that. “Maybe you should take a leaf out of Paris’s book? He was always good at keeping her under control.”

My fists clench. I want to snap back a retort. I want to dive across this table, claw his bloody face off.

But Darius doesn’t react. He just leans over, takes a sip of his bourbon and chuckles. “There’s a time and place for such methods. I’m hoping my Rose is beginning to prefer the carrot to the stick.”

My father meets my gaze and smirks more. “I guess we’ll see won’t we?”

Darius nods, moving his hand to my thigh, all but laying claim to my leg and then they continue on, talking about a new ‘shipment’, new ‘stock’, they have coming in that needs to be tested.

My stomach turns. I know what stock they’re talking about. It’s not clothes, it’s not products. It’s people. They’re selling people.

“So I was saying…” My mother waffles on.

I let her distract me. I let her high-pitched, nonsense fill my head and calm that spinning fear inside me. I don’t want to think about it, to think of others in a worse situation than me, to know that they are being kidnapped, forced into doing things they don’t want, forced into the sex trade and god knows what else just so Darius can continue lining his pockets. But then that’s exactly what I am being made to do too. I may not be walking the streets, I may not be forced to service multiple men but I’m as a much a sex slave for Darius as they are to their pimps.

She smiles at me, holding her glass of sherry that catches the light enough that it casts a red hue across her pearl coloured dress.

I don’t know how she does it. I don’t know how she acts like this isn’t happening and then I remember, what she said, all those months ago, about the good of our family, about ensuring our name lives on.

“We’re so proud of you Rose.” She says. “This union, this marriage will ensure our legacy continues.”

I gulp. That is all she cares about isn’t it? Our legacy. The bloody Capulet name.

“About that…” Darius says breaking off from his conversation. “I know Rose didn’t take Paris’s name when they married but I insist this time…”