Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
The statement is like a slap in my face. He’s referring to the expensive operations Gus paid for. Although, it’s not as if I don’t know that or if it isn’t true.
“You can have any woman you want. Why me?”
His grin is cruel and arrogant. “I don’t need a reason.”
No, I suppose not. But I’m not stupid. If blackmail is the motivation, the only reason can be revenge, and the only revenge he can get if he won’t tell the truth about what I’ve done is to hurt me like I’ve hurt him.
The revelation turns my knees weak. He’s forcing me into a relationship to punish me. What a sick objective for tying someone to you—for life. Unless he plans on killing me, which I doubt. If he wanted to kill me, he could’ve done so already. No, he wants to make me pay for my crime. He wants to make sure I suffer. This is infinitely worse than marrying me for a partnership.
He delivers his next words like the lash of a whip. “If you want your family there to witness the exchange of our vows, you have twenty-four hours to inform them. Department of Home Affairs. Randburg. Tomorrow at three. If there’s anything personal you don’t want the moving company to pack, you have ten minutes to get it.”
Speechless, I can only stare at him. This can’t be happening.
“I’ll take your silence as meaning you have nothing you’d like to pack.” He turns toward his car. “In that case, we can leave straight away.”
“Wait.”
He stops, looking at me, waiting like I asked.
If he shows Gus the footage and tells him what I did, Gus will confront Elliot. If Elliot is busted, he’ll give Gus the photos of my mom. Which leaves me with no choice. My knees wobble under the weight of the knowledge.
In the end, Leon wins, just like he said he would.
I feel like breaking down and crying, but I can’t show weakness. I can’t let him know how rattled I am. I’m vulnerable enough as it is.
“I have some things to pack.” My stomach bottoms out as I say the words, because uttering them is as good as verbally agreeing to his terms. “I can’t just leave like this. I have to tell my mom.”
“Then you better get started.”
Unable to look him in the eyes any longer, I climb the steps to the porch. I’ve never felt smaller or more ashamed. Humiliated.
He reaches the door before I do, opening it and standing aside for me to enter.
Just as we walk inside, my mom exits the lounge with a tray in her hands.
“Leon,” she says, looking between us with concern. “If you don’t mind me saying so, this is a surprise. What’s going on?”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him. “Violet and I have happy news.” Hooking a finger under my chin, he turns my face to him. His lips tilt up, mimicking the happiness he mentioned, but the smile doesn’t melt the ice in his eyes. If anything, those dark pools turn colder, the deep brown color looking like black frost on a winter’s day as he says, “Isn’t that so, my darling?” before pressing his lips on mine.
I freeze, turning into a stickman in his embrace.
My mom’s gasp reaches me as if from afar. I’m disconnected from reality, unable to process what’s happening.
“Violet?” my mom says, putting the tray on the nearest table.
Leon’s bitter gaze holds a challenge. A warning.
“Yes,” I croak, tearing my gaze from Leon’s face and forcing brightness into my tone. “We decided to get married.” The words choke me. “Tomorrow.”
“Oh my goodness.” She places a hand over her heart. “Really?”
I can almost see the gears turning in her head as she tries to figure out why I’d say yes now when I’ve been opposed to the idea from the start.
“That’s crazy,” she says after a beat.
“We don’t want to wait,” Leon says. “What’s the point?”
My mom looks at me. “What about a wedding? A reception? It takes time—months—to arrange a proper ceremony.”
My answer is meant to be persuasive, but it sounds weak. “You know how I feel about ceremonies.”
Her eyebrows snap together, disappointment drawing lines around her eyes. When she married Gus, they had a huge wedding. She went for the whole shebang—white frills, lace, a three-tier cake, and a princess wedding dress. She wants nothing less for me.
Shaking her head, she asks, “Is this truly what you want, Violet?”
“Yes,” I say, another one of many lies.
I didn’t dream about a big, white wedding. I never wanted to get married.
My mom blinks a few times as she digests my answer.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Flora, says, approaching us with short, fast steps. “Would your guest like something to drink?”
My mom turns to Leon, assessing him while asking in a polished, friendly manner, “Would you like tea or coffee?”