Chapter 29 - Nicole #2
All I can see is Gaetano kneeling before me, as though I’m a goddess he worships with every fiber of his being.
I don’t know the motive behind his actions.
For all I know, he really was just toying with me, being the Black Joker in full form.
That doesn’t take away the fact that when I recall his words, his touch, something shifts inside me, filling me with confidence.
I’ll go to this dinner and fuel the rumors that could save my family, but I’ll make sure Daniel Deliberov never wants to marry me again.
Our table is set in the basement of a fancy restaurant.
Dishes clink softly beneath the quiet hum of piano music.
Mrs. Deliberov and her two sons have claimed one side of the table.
Daniel checks me out the way someone would a designer treat: knowing it’s something he can afford, but isn’t sure if it’s worth the trouble.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says with a colorless voice, standing to greet me.
I take the seat opposite him at the far end of the table, a flat “Thank you” escaping my lips.
My parents settle into the chairs on my left.
Servers pour wine into glasses, and a minute later, the appetizers arrive.
Daniel’s older brother launches into some tedious political topic that ropes the men into discussion.
I take the opportunity to check my unread messages.
A few from Boyana. One from Branimir—I’d forgotten he even existed. And one from Daria.
I only respond to Daria. She knows I survived the second trial, but not the details, and is demanding them.
The Black Joker kissed me, I’m tempted to write. More than once. In more than one place.
“Cheers to our future alliance!”
My head jerks up from the screen, eyebrows knitting. Mrs. Deliberov raises her glass in a toast, her beady eyes locked on mine. Her smile stretches almost to her ears, but something about it seems fake. Maybe it’s the lingering nausea from the cave illusion, but my stomach flips.
It takes a moment for her words to sink in.
“Future alliance?” I set my phone on the table.
My father throws me a warning look. “Nicole finds that word unfitting when it comes to marriage,” he says.
Across the table, Daniel catches my eye. “If calling it something else makes you more comfortable, I don’t mind. What matters is that we’re both… satisfied with the arrangement.”
My breath hitches as his deathly pale fingers curl around the stem of his glass, lifting it toward me. A knot tightens in my stomach. I turn to face my father, but his expression remains unchanged. His gaze pins me in place with a clear message: ‘Now’s not the time to argue.’
Everyone toasts their glasses in mutual congratulations.
Deliberov’s glass hovers in my field of vision, unyielding. My heart sinks with an unwelcome realization. This isn’t a dinner to test our compatibility. The deal has already been sealed. Behind my back.
This is a trap.
“Nicole, are you all right, sweetheart?” My father asks.
My vision blurs, with red lines crossing everything and distorting his face.
If I stand up and leave, he’ll kill me.
He shakes his head with a sympathetic smile. “Nicole’s just overworked from all the projects she’s managing for me. Supervising construction sites all day. I tell her to rest, but she refuses to fall behind in her university training.”
The muscles in my thighs tense, ready to push me up. My tongue forms the words. Yet the moment I try to shove my chair back, my legs tremble. Why can’t I do it like I did in the illusion?
“You look absolutely stunning tonight.” Daniel’s smooth voice slides against my ear.
I’m still locked in a stare-down with my father. He simply tips his chin toward the young Deliberov. On autopilot, I mutter, “Thank you.”
He’s no longer holding his glass for a toast. Instead, he takes his utensils and sinks his knife into the steak on his plate. As he carves, his gaze slowly drifts over the curve of my shoulders. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Nicole. That’s why I said yes so easily…to the marriage.”
“And here I thought it was for my intellect,” I snap. My eyes dart to my father, who’s deep in conversation with Daniel’s older brother. I reach for my glass and take a heavy gulp.
Daniel smirks. “Then let’s skip the pleasantries.”
“I prefer it that way,” I say through clenched teeth, wondering how far this will go.
He raises an eyebrow, as if the whole situation bores him.
“Call it what you will. We both know what this is. A deal. No one’s expecting grand declarations of love.
However, we need to look good while we’re at it.
You’re the face beside me. I’m the man providing for you. Anything else is unnecessary drama.”
His knife cuts through the meat again, metal scraping against porcelain. “You’ll have everything you need. And to keep you from getting too bored”—he stuffs a piece of steak in his mouth, still talking while he chews—“we’ll find you something to do. Charity work, maybe?”
My fingers curl around the fork. “I already have something. Architecture.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Architecture, right…” he says with a lazy smile that dares me to throw my wine in his face.
“Of course, I wouldn’t take that away from you.
If it helps you stay sharp, keep at it. It’s good to have a hobby that keeps you occupied.
But once the children come, you’ll want to give it up yourself. ”
I squeeze my knees under the table, trying to contain the fury rising with every word. “Children?”
Daniel takes a sip of wine and leans in slightly.
“My father always dreamed of grandchildren to carry on the business. Sure, my sister has kids, but they’ll never move back to Bulgaria.
And my brother”—he nods toward the older Deliberov seated two places down—“can’t even tie his own shoes, let alone raise a family. ”
My throat dries up. “And how exactly do you plan to have these children?”
“In vitro, of course.”
My chair screeches as I shoot to my feet. I fling the napkin onto my plate with such force, it nearly knocks over the wineglass. I stomp toward the restroom, my pulse pounding in my temples, sweat beading on my palms, and slam the door shut behind me.
I haven’t even caught my breath when the handle clicks. Of course. Leave it to my father to barge into the women’s bathroom without so much as batting an eyelash.
“What the hell was that?” he growls.
I can’t contain my fury any longer. “You said it was just dinner!” And clearly, you made a deal behind my back.”
His eyes narrow for a split second, then his expression clears and he raises his hands to his chest in feigned calm.
“I had no idea Daniel had already made up his mind. That’s even better.
What’s worse is you jumping from the table like a sulking teenager when you should act like a woman who knows her place. ”
My hands dig into the marble edge of the sink behind me. “He’ll make me give up architecture! Everything I am!”
“So what?”
My heart pounds so hard, all I can do is gape at Father. Finally, I blurt, “You’ve said all my life that I should have a purpose!”
He straightens up even more. “Nicole, stop acting like a victim! You’re being offered a life of luxury—no worries, no responsibilities, no dirty hands. And you’re throwing a tantrum, acting like a spoiled brat who doesn’t know how lucky she is.”
I try to breathe, but my lungs burn. His silhouette blurs before my eyes, and I’m back in the cave again. The mist. The cold stone beneath my knees. I see him, his features twisted with contempt.
I also see myself. Standing up, naked and filthy, clutching that pencil. I am what I am. If you can’t accept that, step aside. The words echo in my chest, holding me upright.
Unwavering, I meet his gaze. My father, the man waiting for me to break, to crawl back into the neat little box he prepared for me, and return to that table. “Dad, I’m not going to marry Daniel Deliberov.”
His eyes narrow further, jaw twitching with tension. The silence becomes so heavy that I can hear the grinding of his teeth.
“Dad…” My voice shakes, but I hold firm. “I’m sorry, but…”
His hand snaps forward, seizing my wrist forcefully. Before I can react, he’s dragging me toward the door. My heels scrape against the floor, but I can’t break free.
“You’re coming now. Don’t make a scene. Unless you want to regret it for the rest of your life.”
“Let go of me!” I twist my wrist hard, trying to wrench myself free as pain shoots up my arm.
He yanks again, throwing me off balance. I dig my heels into the floor, shoving against his chest with my free hand. “I said let go!”
“Don’t embarrass us.” He grips tighter, his fingers digging into my flesh.
We stumble past the restroom entrance in our struggle—and that’s when we both stop cold. Gaetano leans against the opposite wall, a shadowy figure dressed in black.
He pushes off the wall and steps into our path. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He extends his hand to me, palm up.
My father’s grip loosens a bit, his scowl shifting as he follows the motion of Gaetano’s outstretched hand. “Aren’t you that scum from the Deliberovs’ ball, for fuck’s sake?”
“Sorry I’m late,” Gaetano says, attention all on me.
My pulse kicks into a gallop, and it’s got nothing to do with fear this time.
“I thought you wouldn’t come until the third week…” I whisper, not caring if my father hears.
Dad yanks on my wrist. “Nicole, what the hell are you rambling on about?”
Gaetano offers me a faint smile. “I thought so, too. Are you coming?”
My heart stumbles. Consequences be damned. Before my mind catches up, my free hand is already in his. The moment our fingers interlace, a rush of heat surges through me. The weight I’ve been carrying all this time dissolves.
Dad’s still gripping my other wrist. It doesn’t matter anymore. From the instant Gaetano appeared, the shift in the air was unmistakable. That invisible, unstoppable force swept between us and took all control from my father’s grasp. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.
My vision fades into shadow. My knees buckle as I start my descent into that now-familiar void.