Chapter 11
NOVA
“Consorting with the enemy. What will your parents say?” Vesper grinned at me over her coffee cup, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders as she tilted her head forward, taking a delicate sip of her latte.
Liana rolled her eyes. “You’re not the enemy. You just happen to be…”
“Enemy-adjacent?” I suggested, borrowing one of Daniel’s phrases.
“Good one.” Vesper pointed at me. Her smile faded quickly, though, her lips curving downwards. “Anyway, don’t remind me. Whelford Uni is… Everyone’s so…rich.”
“You’re rich,” I pointed out. “And you’re better than them.” It was a conversation we’d had several times, and although I did my best to cheer her up, it was difficult when she was feeling down about it all.
“I know. But being the supposed mafia princess in a place full of elite, snobby people who think the world revolves around them, and I’m not even worthy of being the scum on their shoe—” She cut herself off with a sigh. “You’ve heard it all before. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Look on the bright side.
At least you don’t have to sleep in a prison cell,” Liana said, shooting Vesper a teasing grin as I squeezed her arm.
“You’d think after a year we’d be used to it, but no.
Me and Nova didn’t even get to move into the nicer accommodation like certain other people did. Mentioning no names.”
The hockey team, I mouthed to Vesper. She laughed.
“Still hating on the hockey boys, I see.”
“Yes. Especially Kane Worthington. Violent, dickhead, asshole,” Liana gritted out.
“I dunno.” Vesper tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. “Daniel’s pretty violent. Ryker too. Oh, and your goalie.” Her gaze slid to mine, an apology in her eyes at the inadvertent reminder of my future fiancé.
I shook my head. It was fine. The engagement party was still a whole week away. I had seven full days of being free.
Who the hell was I kidding? I’d never been free.
The fact was, even here and now with my friends, I was aware of the app on my phone tracking my movements.
My pre-approved list of friends. “It’s all for your own safety,” I heard my mother echo in my head, but I highly doubted anyone would be stupid enough to try anything with Guillotine Graham’s daughter, not to mention the whole marrying into Bratva royalty thing.
No, it was about control. Control of my life, despite the fact that I was legally an adult.
I sighed, redirecting my thoughts back to our conversation.
“Daniel only really gets violent when we play against Whelford, and we all know that’s because Lincoln Bellingham winds him up like it’s his full-time job.
My brother…he actually restrains himself quite a lot on the ice.
You know what he’s like off it. And as for Anton…
again, that’s a Whelford-specific thing. ”
“And mostly with Enzo,” Liana cut in, glancing at Vesper. “I know you have a family rivalry with the Volkovs. Enzo should just fight Anton in the yard. Get it all out of their systems.”
Vesper and I both shook our heads. Anton Volkov would never stoop to fighting a Fontana. Old rivalries were tricky. The sins of the father passed to the son, with feuds sometimes lasting for generations, in our world.
Liana swirled her straw around in her iced coffee before lifting it with a grimace.
“Paper straws,” she muttered, rising from her seat and crossing to the area next to the counter to get a fresh straw.
When she returned, she dragged her chair closer to me, lowering her voice.
“Speaking of Anton…how are you feeling about this all now it’s so close? Now it feels…real?”
I looked between my two friends. The hours we’d spent sprawled out in my bedroom at Thorpe Manor, teenage girls with teenage dreams, talking about what our adult lives would be like.
I’d known, even then, that my future had already been decided for me, but it was easier to pretend when everything seemed so far away.
“I don’t…” I began. A face flashed in my mind.
A hot mouth. A sweep of inky black hair, brushing against my forehead as he leaned in.
Dark eyes glittering with contempt. Get the fuck out of my head!
I screamed internally. Glancing around the small coffee shop to make sure no one was listening in, I continued.
“I don’t know Anton any better than I did the day our agreement was announced.
He’s so…cold. I don’t— I’m trying not to think about it. ”
Liana’s brow furrowed. “You don’t think he’ll expect things of you, do you?”
“Things?”
“You know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Sexual things.”
“Oh.” My cheeks heated. “Um. No. I don’t think so.
I mean, he barely even kisses me. In fact…
the only time he kissed me when we weren’t in a public setting was on my eighteenth birthday.
I don’t think he’s interested in me that way.
” I was almost certain of that fact. Anton’s attention towards me always seemed mechanical, like he was going through the motions.
I never saw his gaze dip indecently low, or heat in his eyes when they met mine, not like Jay—
I swiped my mocha from the table, taking a large, frustrated gulp, and immediately regretted it. When I’d recovered from the subsequent coughing fit after I’d accidentally inhaled way too much coffee, I took a deep, clarifying breath.
“Anton will do what the men in our world always do. Marry me and sleep with whoever he wants.”
“They don’t all do that,” Vesper said softly.
I sighed. “Okay, that was unfair of me. But I mean…you know my parents. And Anton’s not exactly discreet with his flirtations. We both know this isn’t a love match.”
“I hate that you had to have your first kiss with a man who’s not even into you,” Liana bit out. “And I hate these double standards.”
My first kiss.
They both knew that the night of my eighteenth birthday had been the first time anyone had ever kissed me.
How my mother had drummed into me the importance of waiting, to sweeten the deal, and my dad had tasked my brother with keeping interested boys away from me.
But they didn’t know who the first person to kiss me had been.
And they didn’t know that he’d kissed me again in my sanctuary, the one that I’d kept secret from everyone, even those closest to me. Everyone except for Aleksi, who was a hundred and fifty miles away.
“It is what it is.” I drained the remains of my mocha. “And on that note, I’d better go. My mother’s expecting me.”
When I entered the small boutique, the little bell above the door jingling to announce my arrival, I found my mother seated primly on a plush ottoman, clasping a flute of champagne as she flipped through the glossy pages of a bridal magazine. “You’re late,” she said without looking up.
“Sorry. I got caught up with Liana and Vesper.”
Her mouth thinned, but she refrained from commenting, which I was grateful for.
A woman in a lavender shift dress appeared in front of us, a professional smile stretching across her lips.
“Miss Thorpe. Congratulations on your betrothal. Your mother took the liberty of pulling some dresses, but I wondered if you’d like to take a look around and see if anything catches your eye. ”
“This should have all been dealt with much sooner,” my mother said sharply. “If you hadn’t kept putting off the appointment—”
“I’m here now. Let’s just get on with it.
” Turning to the woman, I glanced at her silver name tag before pasting on a smile.
“Thank you for the offer, Julia. I’d like to have a quick look around.
” Ignoring my mother’s huff of disapproval, I stepped over to the closest rack, letting my fingers trail over satin and lace.
Of course, I had to be dressed appropriately for my engagement party, which meant that I’d inevitably end up in one of the dresses my mother had already chosen, but that didn’t mean I was going to make it easy.
Selecting a handful of dresses, all daringly cut in the front or the back, I carefully added them to the wheeled rail alongside my mother’s choices.
Unusually, she didn’t comment on my clothing choices. I studied her, taking in the barest hint of dark circles under her eyes beneath her makeup. “Mum. Is everything okay?”
“Of course. There are always whispers of dissent in the ranks. You know how it is. Nothing to worry about.” My mother was examining herself in the mirror as she spoke, prodding at her face with a delicate fingertip. “Nisha did a wonderful job with my filler this time.”
I jolted at the mention of Jay’s mum. Licking my lips, I nodded. “She did.”
“I’ve already taken the liberty of scheduling a series of appointments with Priya for you in the run-up to the wedding to get your skin in tip-top condition.
If you’d like, I can schedule in a little Botox treatment.
You’re already starting to get frown lines, and it’s never too early to prevent them. ”
“No, thank you.”
“Hmm.” She swept her critical gaze over me. “I suppose the skin regime will do for now.”
When I couldn’t even muster up a smile in response, she sighed, something startlingly genuine flashing in her steely gaze before it was gone again. “Darling. I sometimes feel as if you think I don’t care.”
Yes…there was a reason for that. I remained silent, and she huffed pointedly before continuing. “Listen to me. Your father wanted an heir, but…I never cared much for boys.” Her mouth twisted. “Or for babies. Dreadful, screaming things. What would we do without nannies?”
“Is there a point to this?” I muttered, inexplicably hurt by her words, despite the fact that they didn’t come as a surprise.
Crossing to the polished marble sideboard where the champagne rested in a bucket of ice, I picked up a crystal flute and poured myself a generous glass.
Tipping it to my lips, I let the liquid fizz down my throat, ignoring my mother’s disapproving look.
As if she wasn’t already most of the way through her second glass.
“Yes, there is a point,” she said eventually.
“As you know, your brother was born first. I… Well, he was another crying baby. But when you came along, I realised how wrong I’d been.
I felt it instantly, right here.” She tapped her chest. “I had a child. A daughter. One I could mould into a beautiful, graceful woman, who would make our family proud. You’ve surpassed my expectations.
You’re going to make a wonderful wife and mother. ”
“Y-you didn’t want Ryker?”
Waving a dismissive hand in the air, she downed the rest of her champagne. “Don’t be so simplistic, Nova. It’s not about want. He’s your father’s heir. You both have your duties to perform.”
Ryker. Did he feel just as trapped as I did? I stared down at my bare ring finger, my hands trembling.
Trapped. This time next week, I’d have a ring on my finger. This time next week…I’d be an engaged woman.