Chapter 17 #2
The baby stirred softly against me, tiny fingers curling into the neckline of my dress while I backed farther toward the hall. My vision blurred almost instantly.
Part of me wanted to run to him. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and tell him I didn’t care what happened next as long as we faced it together. Another part of me couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen to her if I didn’t agree .
Malrik had already made it clear she meant nothing to him. A transaction. Disposable.
The second I crossed the doorway, Nikolai completely lost control.
The sound of metal snapping echoed through the room.
One of the guards cursed. I twisted just in time to see Nikolai rip one of the restraints partially from the chair before three men slammed into him at once.
The baby started crying harder at the shouting that followed.
“Get the fuck off me!” Nikolai roared.
The sound chased me into the hallway. The crashes, the yelling. Malrik’s calm voice giving orders somewhere behind me while chaos erupted through the room beyond the doorway. I held the baby tighter against my chest as the guards hurried me farther down the corridor.
My breathing had turned uneven. Everything felt wrong. The expensive paintings lining the walls. The polished marble beneath my feet. The soft lighting glowing from chandeliers while Nikolai screamed somewhere behind me like a man being dragged to his execution.
“Emerald!”
His voice echoed through the estate. I squeezed my eyes shut. I hated that sound. Hated that I was the reason for it.
The butler from earlier appeared near the staircase like this entire situation was perfectly normal. “This way, Miss Deveraux. ”
The baby had finally quieted slightly, tiny hiccupping breaths leaving her while I adjusted her carefully against my shoulder. I looked down at her little face. She looked exhausted.
“Do you know her name?” I asked quietly.
The butler blinked once.
“I’m sorry?”
“The baby.” My voice cracked slightly. “Do you know her name?”
A pause. “No, I don’t.”
By the time we reached my room, Nikolai’s screams had turned distant through the halls, but I could still hear him fighting. Still hear things breaking.
The guard opened the bedroom door for me. I stepped inside, before I entered, I turned back toward the hallway I almost told them to take me back. I wanted to run back to him, to choose him; but then the baby shifted sleepily against my chest again, and I couldn’t.
The door shut behind me with a heavy click. Locking me inside.
I don’t remember how long I stood there after the door shut. Minutes maybe. Maybe longer. The room felt too quiet after all the screaming downstairs. The silence pressed against my skin until I thought I might lose my mind from it .
The baby had fallen asleep against my shoulder, tiny breaths brushing softly against my neck while I stared blankly at the middle of the room.
Nothing about the last forty-eight hours felt real. I was standing inside a psychopath’s estate holding a boughten baby while preparing for a wedding I was forced to agree to.
My laugh came out weak and broken.
A knock sounded against the door before I could spiral any further.
I didn’t answer, however the door opened anyway. Four women stepped inside carrying garment bags, makeup cases, boxes of jewelry, and enough hair products to prepare someone for a royal coronation instead of a hostage situation.
“Good evening, Miss Deveraux,” one of them said carefully.
I just stared at her. The woman’s smile faltered slightly under the weight of my expression.
“We’re here to prepare you for the ceremony.”
Ceremony was such a pretty word for something so horrifying.
I looked down at myself. I still wore the dress I’d been shoved into yesterday.
My lip was split. My hair was tangled from crying and fighting and sleeping in short bursts between panic attacks.
Somehow these people were acting like this was normal, and that I was some excited bride getting ready for the happiest night of her life .
I felt numb. Completely numb.
The woman nearest to me glanced at the baby in my arms uncertainly. “Would you like one of us to hold her while you change?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly. Sharp enough that she took a small step back. I tightened my hold on the baby. My brain had already decided she was safer with me than anyone else in this house. The women exchanged glances before carefully setting everything down around the room.
One unzipped a garment bag. White fabric spilled out across the bed. Of course it was white. I stared at the dress in complete disbelief.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
One of the younger women looked deeply uncomfortable now.
“It was another one of Mr. Drax’s selection,” she said quietly.
The dress looked expensive enough to fund a small country. Layers of silk and lace cascaded over the edge of the mattress while diamonds glittered along the bodice beneath the soft lighting.
It was beautiful. That made it worse. This wasn’t some drunken Vegas wedding. Malrik had planned this. Thought about it. Prepared for it .
How long had he intended to do this? How long had he known who I was before I even knew myself? My stomach twisted violently. I didn’t even know who I was anymore. Every answer only seemed to create ten more questions.
The baby stirred softly in my arms again, dragging me out of my head.
One of the women approached cautiously. “Miss Deveraux… we should begin soon.”
I looked at her. She couldn’t have been much older than me. She was pretty and professional. She was trying very hard not to acknowledge the fact I looked like I’d been emotionally dragged behind a moving vehicle.
“Do I look excited to get married?” I asked flatly.
Her face paled instantly. “No, miss.”
“Good. At least someone in this fucking house has eyes.”
Another uncomfortable silence followed.
Normally I would’ve kept going. Would’ve leaned into the sarcasm harder just to make everyone uncomfortable enough to leave me alone, but I was tired.
So unbelievably tired. My entire life had shattered in less than two days, and somehow people still expected me to stand still long enough to curl my hair .
One of the women slowly approached with a makeup brush. “We can cover the cut on your lip.”
The second she reached toward my face, the baby started fussing again. I immediately rocked her gently without thinking.
I swallowed hard before carefully handing the sleeping infant toward the youngest woman there. “If you drop her, I’ll kill you.”
The poor girl looked terrified. “I won’t.”
“I mean that literally.”
She nodded quickly. I finally forced myself toward the bed where the wedding dress waited.
White. Pure. Innocent. Everything I wasn’t anymore.
The women began moving around me carefully, undoing the back of my dress while others prepared makeup brushes and heated curling irons.
I stood there motionless through all of it. Like a doll being prepared for display.
Somewhere downstairs, faint enough that maybe nobody else noticed it, I heard another distant crash echo through the estate. Nikolai, still fighting.
My eyes closed briefly, trying to hold back the tears that were trying to escape.