Chapter 5
Chapter Five
VICKY
Yesterday marked the seventh day of my incarceration. If I was a teenager, I’d call it “being grounded” but as I’m twenty-three, that sounds ridiculous. I’m sure people who don’t move in the same circles as I do would think a woman of my age allowing her parents to ground her was not only lame but weak.
That’s because they don’t understand my world.
It’s part of the reason those of our ilk tend to flock together. It’s simply not done to defy one’s parents, let alone give the most powerful family in the country a piece of my mind, especially in front of five hundred gawking spectators. Basically, calling Nicholas De Vil a murderer at Beth’s funeral was stepping way, way, way outside the bounds of acceptability, yet if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.
My parents have hardly spoken to me since we arrived home after Beth’s funeral. My father told me he was ashamed of my behavior and to get out of his sight, while Mum played the disappointment card. Funny, isn’t it, how a parent can yell and scream and throw things, yet when they pull out that horrible word “ disappointed ,” it cuts through you like a newly sharpened scalpel through a single sheet of paper?
Don’t get me wrong. My parents aren’t bad people, but I am the less favored child. The black sheep, the disobedient one, the opinionated one. The one who isn’t Beth. Growing up, I lost count of the number of times my mother would trot out the “Why can’t you be more like your sister?” line.
I won’t lie. It hurt. Every fucking time. But as the years passed, I learned to hide how much it smarted knowing I was second best. Yet the unfair comparison only made me love Beth more. She was good right down to her bone marrow. Kind, loving, and funny in her uniquely quiet and unassuming way.
Another rush of tears comes at me too fast to stop them. I let them fall, surprised I still have any left considering I’ve cried myself to sleep every night since she died. I’m tough, but Beth was my weakness, and without her I feel adrift in a stormy sea with no land in sight.
I’m not averse to spending time alone, but Dad confiscated my phone and my laptop. I’ve no idea if my friends have tried to contact me, nor if he’s replied in my place to let them know I’m alive and kicking. At least he didn’t confiscate my books. I’ve occupied myself by catching up on the long list of novels I keep meaning to dive into but never find the time.
Losing access to my laptop is a bit of a kicker, though. I’ve recently started an interior design business, and while I haven’t landed any clients yet, I could have spent the time refining my website and following up on a lead from my best friend Eloise's dad. It’s nepotism, I guess, but a girl’s got to take what she can get when starting out, and I’m not too proud to accept a leg up.
The door to my bedroom opens, and Dad enters without knocking. I push myself upright from where I’d been lounging on the bed, silently hope this is it. Release day.
“Hi, Dad.” I give him a bright smile, making sure there isn’t an ounce of rebellion in my voice or expression, although I nearly fuck it up when I add, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Fortunately, Dad doesn’t pick up on the sarcasm. “Can you come downstairs, please? Your mother and I need to speak with you.”
Glad to leave these four walls, I jump off the bed. “Sure. Everything okay?”
He hesitates before he answers. “Couldn’t be better.”
Trekking after him, I plod down the stairs and into the living room. Mum is sitting primly on the edge of the sofa, her smile tight, tension in her jaw. I frown, my gaze volleying between my parents. Both seem on edge, come to think of it.
Squinting at them, I plant my hands on my hips. “What’s going on?”
“Sit down.” My father’s tone brooks no argument.
I plunk on the couch next to Mum. Something’s off. I fiddle with the hem of my T-shirt while Dad paces in front of the fireplace.
“I’ve been speaking with Charles De Vil.”
I sit up straight, my stomach knotting. Oh, God. Has he done something to Dad because of what I did? I wouldn’t put anything past that family. Regret pinches at my insides. I wanted to do right by Beth, but in doing so, had I done wrong by my parents?
“We’ve reached an agreement that suits both our families.”
Mum fidgets next to me, and when I look at her, she refuses to meet my eyes. I turn back to Dad.
“What does that mean?”
He clears his throat, but when he looks at me, his expression is one of fiery determination. “You are to marry Nicholas.”
My eyes widen, and for a second, shock renders me speechless. Then I laugh. This is some kind of sick joke, surely.
“Okay, Dad, what’s the punchline?”
He stares at me, unsmiling. “We’ve decided on a date. You will marry at Oakleigh Chapel two weeks from today.”
When I realize he isn’t joking, I launch to my feet, thighs trembling. “I will not marry Nicholas De Vil. Not two weeks from today, two months, or two years. You cannot do this to me. Beth is barely cold in the ground, and now you want me to marry her fiancé? No. That’s absurd. It’s… it’s… obscene.”
“Vicky.” Mum reaches out a hand, but I jerk out of her reach.
“The last daughter you gave to that man ended up dead. Do you want to lose me, too?”
Mum visibly flinches. In normal circumstances, I’d feel bad, offer an apology, or a squeeze of her shoulder, but this situation is as far from normal as you can get.
“Victoria, sit down and listen to me.” Dad rarely uses my full name. He clearly means business, but so do I.
“No.” I dig my nails into my palms. “You can’t do this to me. I won’t let you.”
“My business is in trouble.”
He withers before my eyes, all his bluster and confidence vanishing in the time it takes me to blink. He sinks into his favorite chair, expression bleak rather than commanding, the mask he’d put on for my benefit sliding off his face.
“About eighteen months ago, my company developed a piece of software that could make me a very rich man. Not quite De Vil rich, but enough to keep me and your mother comfortable for the rest of our lives. The problem was it needed a lot of investment. I borrowed against every asset we owned but still fell short of what was required. Then the interest rates increased, inflation spiraled out of control, and my income dropped significantly, meaning I couldn’t make the interest payments.”
He rubs the space between his eyebrows and lets a slow, steady breath out through his nose. “Charles De Vil somehow discovered this research, as well as the difficulties my company was in, and he made an offer. He’d give me the additional investment needed to fully develop and bring the software to market in return for a controlling interest in my company. As part of the deal, I would stay on and run the business I’ve built from scratch.”
Drawing in a deep breath, he blows it out slowly between pursed lips. “I’m aware of the De Vils’ morally dubious reputation, and I didn’t trust him not to fire me as CEO as soon as I signed over the business, which is why I made marriage for one of my daughters a condition of the deal. At least that way we’d always have a connection to the family, and he’d be less likely to cut me off from my own firm. He arranged for the bank to give me some breathing room until I signed the contract on the day of the wedding. Nicholas chose to marry Beth, but now she’s gone…”
His voice cracks, but I’m too angry to offer him any comfort. My hands fist as I wait for him to gather himself and continue.
“If you refuse to marry Nicholas, the bank will foreclose on the company, the house. We’ll lose it all.” His watery eyes lock on mine. “We need you to do this for the sake of your family. Look at your mother. She won’t survive living on the breadline. If I don’t act now, my business will fold, and Charles De Vil will scoop up the pieces for buttons. This way, I get to keep the company and make sure you’re taken care of for the rest of your life.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of! I’m starting my own business. I can take care of myself.”
Dad runs a hand through his hair, and Mum still won’t look at me.
“It’s on you to save this family, Vicky. We need you to do this. For your mother. For me. Would you see us on the streets, our family name dragged through the mud?”
Oh, just wonderful. Now they need me. Now I’m important to them. It stings like hell that it’s only when Beth’s gone that I’m good enough. But at what cost to me?
My brain races at a million miles an hour, seeking a way out. Every road leads to a dead end—one where Nicholas De Vil waits for me, laughing.
“Nicholas has agreed to this?” I croak. Surely not. He can’t stand the sight of me. The argument we had at Beth’s wake comes back to haunt me.
I pity the man who ends up with you.
And I pity the woman who ends up with you.
He’ll have refused. He will. There’s not a chance he’ll agree to tying himself to me for life.
“He has, yes.”
The last shred of hope snaps. Only one reason comes to mind for why Nicholas would agree to marry me. He wants to make me suffer for what I said at Beth’s funeral, for the shame I brought down on him and his family. For how I dared to speak out against the all-powerful De Vils.
“Please, Vicky.” Mum’s pathetically somber voice breaks through the chaos in my mind as I try to figure a way out of this mess. “If we weren’t desperate, we wouldn’t ask. This way, your father’s business will thrive, and we’ll be saved.”
While I will wither and die.
“Did Beth know all this?”
My father nods. “And she was happy to help us.”
He may as well have kicked me in the stomach, his hidden meaning clear as a freshly polished mirror. This is why she was our favorite. She wasn’t combative, opinionated, sassy. She did as she was told.
The living room grows smaller, the walls closing in around me. I have no choice. I’ll have to give my life to save theirs. The last embers of my spirit disintegrate, swallowed by the looming shadow of my impending doom.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
Mum looks as though she’s about to faint, and relief races across Dad’s face.
“Thank you, darling. We knew you’d do the right thing.”
The right thing for them. The utterly wrong thing for me.
“Can I have my phone and my laptop back now?” Already, I sound different. My voice is dull and hopeless. I was wrong earlier when I thought I’d spent the last seven days incarcerated and freedom was on the horizon. Turns out I’ll be spending the rest of my life in prison, with a vengeful warden at the helm.
“I don’t see why not.” Dad leaves the room, returning a few seconds later with my tech.
“Thanks,” I mutter. “Permission to go to my room?”
“Of course.” He’s bright now, his worries over, while mine are only beginning.
My legs are considerably heavier on the trek upstairs than they were when I skipped downstairs only a few minutes ago. In that short amount of time, my whole life has changed.
Closing my door, I set my laptop on my desk and flop onto my bed. I’ve got a ton of missed calls from my friends, which tells me Dad didn’t bother letting them know he’d grounded me and confiscated my phone. Great. I’m surprised they haven’t reported me as a missing person. I send an “I’m alive” message to our group WhatsApp, but I can’t face telling them about Nicholas. Not yet.
Instead, I call Imogen. She answers on the third ring, breathing heavily into the phone.
“Please tell me I haven’t interrupted something… personal.”
She laughs. “No. I just got out of the shower and heard the phone ringing. Everything okay? I kept meaning to call, but I wanted to give you space.”
“Do you know?” I blurt.
“Know what?”
“Dad’s forcing me to marry Nicholas.”
“What?” Even I can tell the shock in her voice isn’t fake. “When did this happen?”
“Today. Just now.” I throw an arm over my eyes. “This is my worst fucking nightmare, Imogen. My parents have basically blackmailed me into it, and I can’t say no. How will I survive a marriage with that man after what he did to Beth?”
“It’ll be okay, Vicky, I promise. I’m here to help. Maybe what you once felt for him isn’t as dead as you believe.”
A snort bursts out of me. “Oh, believe me, it’s dead. Dead as my sister.”
Dead as me, too. Marrying into that family is worse than death. It’s purgatory; a life sentence without parole. A living nightmare. It’s time to face facts.
Life as I know it is over.