CHAPTER SEVEN
Her mother's gaze cooled further. "This isn't a competition."
"It became one the moment you offered me in her place."
The silence between them sharpened until Vivienne could almost hear the ticking of the
chandelier crystals in the ballroom beyond, swaying with distant movement. Her parents
exchanged another one of those subtle looks too quick to decipher, too familiar to dismiss.
Vivienne pressed her palms to her sides to keep from shaking. "Tell me."
Her father spoke first. "We couldn't risk Tessa."
The words were too light for the weight they carried. Vivienne stared at him, waiting for the rest.
He avoided her eyes for the briefest moment a tell, a fracture in his flawless composure before
meeting her gaze again.
Her mother took over. "Tessa's value to this family is different from yours."
Vivienne's stomach twisted. "Value," she echoed. "Like she's an asset. Like I'm an asset."
Her mother's expression didn't change. "There is nothing wrong with being valuable."
"To you," Vivienne said, voice thinning. "Only to you."
Her father exhaled sharply. "You are twisting our intentions. Tessa is positioned for greater
visibility. Her social connections, her presence it all supports our long-term strategies. She has
been groomed for it."
Vivienne flinched at the word groomed. It sat heavy in the air, coated with implication.
Her mother added, "She is meant for the public eye. For alliances that depend on grace, beauty,
and perception. Her marriage will anchor several political and financial relationships we've spent
years cultivating."
A chill crawled up Vivienne's spine. "So because she's too important… I'm expendable?"
Her father bristled. "No one said anything about expendability."
"You didn't have to."
The guards at the door shifted their weight, uncomfortable witnesses to a conversation that
vibrated with unspoken cruelty.
Vivienne's hands curled into fists. "You chose me because you don't think I matter. Because
losing me is easier than losing her."
Her mother's voice hardened. "Tessa's future was carefully mapped. Holt's reputation makes
him unsuitable for someone with her visibility."
Vivienne stiffened. "What does that mean?"
Her father pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture he used when delivering unpleasant truths.
"His world is dangerous. Violent. Rumors surrounding him are not exaggerated. His alliances
are built on blood and power. Any woman who enters that sphere disappears from society's
center."
Vivienne swallowed, though her throat felt coated with glass. "And you're sending me there
instead?"
Her mother's silence was all the answer needed.
But her father, ever direct, spelled it out: "You can handle a quieter life. One without public
scrutiny."
The words hit her harsher than if he'd slapped her. She heard every layered meaning the
dismissal, the ranking, the cold categorization.
Her mother spoke again. "Your temperament is suited for it. You don't crave attention. You don't
need the spotlight. You will not resist the way Tessa would."
"I'm resisting now."
"You'll grow out of it," her mother said softly, as if Vivienne's terror and rage were childish
tantrums.
The breath left Vivienne's chest in a shaky gasp. Her world rearranged itself, tilting into a shape
she didn't recognize. She had always known her role in this family hovered somewhere between
necessity and background noise but she had never imagined it would come to this.
"You're wrong about me," she said quietly, voice trembling with the beginnings of a resolve she
had never needed before tonight. "You don't know who I am. You never tried to know."
Her father shook his head as though rejecting the sentiment. "You're overreacting. Holt is
powerful, yes, but he can provide stability. Your life will not lack comfort."
"I don't care about comfort. I care about choice."
"Choice," her mother echoed with a strange softness. "Choice is a luxury people like us cannot
afford."
Vivienne stared. "That only applies when I'm the one paying for the sacrifices."
Her father grew impatient. "Enough. We understand this is difficult for you, but you will adjust.
Many women have entered marriages they did not choose."
"I am not 'many women.'"
"You are our daughter," her mother said, "and you will do what's required."
Vivienne took two steps back. She needed space, breath, anything. But the hallway felt like it
was splitting her open.
Her father's voice followed her, targeting her spine. "Tessa will form alliances that benefit us
publicly. You will form the one that protects us privately. It is a balance."
Vivienne let out a sound that was not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. "So that's the truth. Tessa is
too valuable to be risked on a man rumored to be dangerous, crippled, and cruel. But I… what?
I can be?"
Her mother folded her hands elegantly. "We trust you to endure."
"Endure," Vivienne repeated. "Like a burden."
"Like a responsibility," her father corrected.
Vivienne felt the weight of that word like a chain tightening around her wrists. "And I never had a
say."
"You did," her mother said. "By being born."
Vivienne's chest tightened with a pain so sharp she almost staggered. She looked at her mother
and father two people shaped by ambition so deeply they didn't realize how their shadows
swallowed everything around them.
And then she understood something she had never allowed herself to admit:
They hadn't chosen her for this sacrifice because she was the weakest.
They had chosen her because she was the strongest.
The one who could bend without breaking at least in their eyes.
Her father glanced toward the front of the estate as the rumble of engines grew louder. "Prepare
yourself. This conversation is finished."
Vivienne felt something crack inside her not hope, not innocence, but the last thread tying her to
the belief that her parents loved her unconditionally.
She straightened slowly, her breath deepening, a quiet steel forming beneath her fear.
But before she could speak, the floor vibrated faintly beneath her heels. Outside, multiple
engines cut through the night air.
Her mother turned toward the sound. "He's arrived."
Vivienne's pulse stumbled, then raced. The air seemed to contract around her as if making room
for someone far larger than the walls themselves.
Her father moved toward the main hall with calm purpose. "Come, Vivienne. Your future is here."
Vivienne didn't follow.
She couldn't move.
Because from outside came the unmistakable thud of heavy doors opening.
And the distant footsteps that answered were nothing like those of a human man.