Chapter 4

THE COUNTDOWN TO ENGAGEMENT

Twice a day. Just two meager days till my presence formally runs down the toilet. Like a gloomy cloud hovering over me, the engagement party loomed large and I couldn't get rid of the sense of approaching disaster. Who, at eighteen, has an engagement party? For loud screaming out, this was not the 1800s.

Sitting on my bed, I watched the pale pink frock hanging on my closet door. Mom had picked it out naturally. Heaven forbid I show up for my own engagement party sporting something I truly like. I moaned and flopped back onto my cushions. Perhaps if I desired really hard, this would all simply vanish.

"kylie! Kylie! Join me at my pity party." The sound of small feet stomping down the hall burst through. My door opened to show my younger brother, Kael, his dark hair standing in every direction and his eyes glittering with mischief.

"I want to play!" he declared, throwing himself into my bed with the elegance of a young elephant.

I started to grin and ruffle his hair. "I'm sorry, squirt. Mom wants the party perfect. Not sure we should mess it up?"

Kael's face wrinkled in a pout that fit any puppy and would be embarrassing. But that's dull, he groaned. "Why must you have a stupid party anyway?"

I tried to keep my speech light but swallowed hard. "Kael, it's just something grownups do occasionally. Not much of a deal here."

He turned his head to watch me with that shockingly insightful look that young children seem to possess. "Are you crying again?" he said suddenly. "Rosy has said it since Lysander bought you."

I thought of myself as having been gut-pounded. Let the housekeepers share stories close to a six-year-old's hearing range. "No, Kael." I forced a smile and responded. "He did not buy me. That is not the way it works."

"Might as well have," Ava said in a dry voice from the doorway. Father essentially turned you over.

I gave her a warning glance. "Ava, keep it down," I hissed. "What if Father heard?"

Rolling her eyes, she entered the room, closing the door behind her. "Please. He's too busy kissing up to the Vincenzos to give any thought to what we're saying."

I sighed and dragged Kael across my lap. "Ava, it's not quite that straightforward. You are aware of."

She caught herself, staring at Kael, "Yeah, yeah, family alliances and all that bull, all that nonsense still does not make it right."

"Right or not, it's happening," I muttered, the weight of those words falling over me like a lead blanket. "In two days, I'll be engaged to Lysander Vincenzo and that's that."

Kael wriggled in my lap, obviously bored with the grown-up lecture. Looking up at me with those great brown eyes, he requested, "Can we play hide and seek?"

I stopped, staring at the mountain of party preparation still ahead. Ava grinned and scooped Kael up, sensing my delay.

She said, already halfway out the door, "The last one in the garden is a rotten egg!"

"Hello, no fair!" I laughed and scrambled after them.

We ran across the house, avoiding maids and turning away the disgusted eyes of the party organizers. For a little while, liberated from the weight of planned marriages and family expectations, I felt like a young child again.

My heart jumped into my throat as we tore into the garden, and I skidded to a halt. Standing next to the rosebushes, there was a man I had only seen in photos. Tall, black, and just frightening as heck.

Lysander Vincento!

"Ava," I said quickly, reaching for her arm. "That's Lysander Vincenzo!"

Her eyes grew wide. She corrected, looking at Kael, "Holy sh — shiitake mushrooms. What's he doing here?"

Kael broke free from Ava's hold and marched straight up to Lysander before I could reply. Oh, god, no.

"You can't take Kylie!" He yelled, his small face set in intense will. She's not yours!

I sensed all the blood leaving my face. Frozen in place, Father is in great trouble if he finds us running around.

Lysander surprised me by kneeling at Kael's level, his face blank. His voice deep and silky, he asked, "Is that so?"

Kael nodded forcefully. "She's my sister. She is not something you can gain."

A shadow of a smile flashed over Lysander's face. "I notice. And you must be Kael, right?"

Kael's eyes became wide with amazement. "How do you know?"

Lysander remarked, rising, "I make it my business to know things." His eyes fixed on mine, and I shivered along my spine. "Kylie here. At last, meeting you personally is great."

I tried to keep my voice steady by hard-swallowing. "Mr. Vincenzó. We didn't expect you until the celebration."

He wrinkled his eyebrows. "Exactly, and please refer to me as Lysander. After all, we will be married."

His laid-back approach, as if he were commenting on the temperature, made my gut turn over. I started to answer when another voice interrupted.

"Quite the introduction," greeted a man I hadn't seen before, beaming broadly. Though he shared the same dark hair, his approachability surpassed Lysander's. He appeared younger. "This seems to be fascinating."

Lysander's face remained the same, yet something in his eyes hardened just slightly. "Kylie, this is my brother Dorian."

Dorian reached out, extending his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kylie. Not mind the lovely demeanor of my brother. He was born without any sense of humor."

I shook his hand, a little disoriented. "Nice to meet you too."

The gathering fell silent in embarrassing fashion. Apparently bored with the adult conversation once more, Kael pulled on my hand. "Kylie, could we maybe play now?"

"I... I should go check on Kael," I muttered, grabbing at the getaway from guilt. "It was good seeing you both."

Lysander's voice stopped me as I turned to get out, "Your family is protective."

I stopped and turned slowly back. "I'm sorry about Kael and Ava," I said tensely. "They are just..."

Lysander put up a hand to shut me off, "... protective of you. I understand you." His eyes locked with mine, as though he could see straight through me. "That's excellent. You will need that in New York."

With that enigmatic comment, he turned and left; Dorian trailed behind him with a guilty shrug in my direction.

I let out a breath I hadn't been conscious of. Ava remarked, moving up next to me, "Well. That was..."

"A disaster?" I said.

She gave her head a shake. Though I was going to add "intense," disaster works too.

I gathered Kael, who had been seriously silent. "Are you OK, friend?"

He nodded and circled my neck with his arms. He said, "I don't like him," softly. "He looks scary."

That's not anything I could dispute. In many respects, Lysander Vincenzo was clearly terrifying. And in two days, I would be engaged to him.

The remainder of the day was a blur of last-minute getting-ready and tense excitement. I was tired but too hooked to sleep by eveningfall. Seeking some calm in the still night air, I found myself meandering out to the garden.

Sitting on a bench close to the rosebushes, I kept going back in my head over the meeting with Lysander. He was cold and frightening, obviously accustomed to having his own way. But there had been times when his conversation with Kael had shown a flutter of a smile.

Furious with myself, I shook my head. It would make no difference if he experienced fleeting humanity. It was still an arranged marriage, and this was still a cage I was being forced into.

"I cannot sleep!"

Dorian's voice almost caused me to leap from my skin. Rising from the darkness, hands lowered in apologies. "I apologize; I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," I responded, my heart still pounding. "What are you doing out here?"

Shrugging, he sat down next to me. "Same as you, I would guess. Seeking to clear my head."

For a moment, we sat silently, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze.

"You know, he's not as horrible as he seems," Dorian replied abruptly.

I looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "Lysander?"

Nodding, he says, "I understand he comes across as quite dreadful. Nevertheless, he is more than that."

"Why are you telling me this?" I enquired, really curious.

Dorian grumbled and ran a hand over his hair. "Because I have seen personally what well-planned marriages can accomplish for individuals. How can they ruin lives without knowledge or attempt to make things work?

My throat started to develop lumps. "And you think understanding Lysander will make this work?"

"I consider it to be a start," he remarked gently. "Look, I'm not advocating that you adore him. Perhaps, though, try to look below the frightening façade. He is the way he is for a good cause."

I wanted to argue and tell him that nothing could make this position good. But I halted at something in his face. He seemed concerned. For myself as much as for Lysander.

"I'll try," I discovered myself saying. "But I am unable to guarantee anything."

Dorian grinned and got to his feet. "That is all someone can ask. Good night, Kylie!"

I sat there for a long time, lost in contemplation, as he left. Still causing me anxiety, the engagement celebration loomed large. But now, buried within the fury and anxiety, was a small flame of inquiry.

Lysander Vincenzo was really someone else. More significantly, though, who would I have to become to live in his world?

Those questions whirled in my head as I at last turned back to my room. The countdown until the engagement party kept on, but suddenly it seemed more than just a deadline.

It felt as though it was the start of something. Something frightening, something unknown, but if I wanted to survive, I would have to squarely face it.

Twice a day. Two days still till everything changed. I only hoped I was ready for whatever followed.

***********

I gazed at the girl in the mirror, barely recognizing her. The dress, a deep burgundy that appeared almost black in the dim light of my bedroom, clung to my body like a second skin. It revealed curves I never knew I had, and the sweetheart neckline plunged lower than anything I had ever worn.

"Stop fidgeting, Kylie," Olive, my mother, said behind me. Trying in vain to make my dress longer, she pulled at its hem. "You look amazing."

She caught my eye in the mirror. I blurted out, "Mom, I look like I'm playing dress-up," immediately regretting my candor as I watched her face fall.

She sighed and stroked an imaginary wrinkle out of the cloth. "Honey, I understand this is difficult. You must realize, though, that this is the way our world operates. Your manner of presenting yourself counts."

"But why must it be like this?" I asked, hating my whiny voice. "I am just fifteen years old. Shouldn't I be thinking about math or something else?"

Mom's mouth closed tightly in a thin line. "Kylie, we have discussed this several times. The choice your father has made will benefit our family as a whole. The least you can do is look the part."

Knowing it would not help, I bit back a response and forced a smile more like a grimace. "You're correct. I am sorry."

She nodded, seeming content. "Good lass. Remember to stand upright. You represent Santos. Behave as though it were natural."

I leaned against the vanity as she left the room, feeling overwhelmed. In less than an hour, I would be meeting my future husband for the first time. I had never seen him before.

I was startled by a gentle knock on my door. "Come in," I said, quickly wiping away a stray tear.

My little sister, Ava, poked her head in and gasped at my appearance. "Oh, Kylie. You look... different."

Though it sounded more like a sob, I chuckled. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

Ava entered the room and closed the door behind her. She was still all legs and freckles at thirteen, and her sundress contrasted with my more mature outfit. Sitting on the edge of my bed, she asked, "Are you okay?"

I shook my head, unsure if I could talk.

"This sucks," Ava said, her directness making me smile despite the gloom. "You shouldn't have to marry some old creep you've never met."

"Ava!" I growled, peering anxiously at the door. "Don't let Mom or Dad hear you talking like that."

She rolled her eyes. "What are they going to do? Marry me off too?"

The idea chilled me to the bone. More sternly than I intended, I said, "Don't even joke about that."

Ava's expression softened. "I apologize. I hate this right now. It's not fair."

Sitting down next to her, I sighed. "I understand. This is our life, Ava. We don't get to choose."

"We could run away," she said, a glint of enthusiasm in her eyes. "Just pack a bag and leave. Maybe we could be in California by morning!"

I allowed myself to imagine it for a moment. Freedom, adventure, a life of our own making. But soon, reality took over. "And then what?" I asked softly. "We have no money or skills. We wouldn't last a week."

Ava deflated, the spark gone from her eyes. She whispered, "I guess you're right."

I gently squeezed her hand and said, "Hey, it will be alright. I'm tough, remember? I'm qualified to handle this."

She nodded, but I could tell she didn't entirely agree with me. Honestly, I couldn't believe it myself.

We were both startled at a quick rap on the door. "Kylie," my father's voice echoed through the forest. "It's time."

Standing up, I straightened my outfit. "Do I look okay?" Trying to lighten the mood, I asked Ava.

She gave me a sad smile. "Like a princess about to be fed to a dragon."

I laughed, surprised at how accurate that felt. "Well, let's hope this dragon never bites."

The sound of my heels on the marble floor echoed ominously as I walked down the hallway. Each step felt like I was approaching my own disaster. The house suddenly felt large and suffocating, its ornate decorations taunting me with their timeless beauty.

I stopped outside the lounge, inhaling deeply. Inside, I could hear men laughing and speaking. I briefly thought of running down the hall and out the front door, never turning around. But where would I go? Whether or not I liked it, this was my universe.

I inhaled once more and opened the door.

The internal dialogue died right away. Every eye in the room turned to me, and under their scrutiny, my cheeks burned. I quickly scanned the faces, recognizing most of them. Salvatore, my father, was standing near the fireplace holding a glass of Scotch. Tony, my cousin, lounged in an armchair and kept staring in a direction that made my skin crawl.

And there stood Lysander Vincenzo in the corner, my fiancé. The word felt improper, even in my brain.

He didn't match what I had anticipated. Younger, first of all. I had pictured some middle-aged man with a potbelly and experiencing balding. But Lysander seemed to be in his mid-twenties, tall and slim, dark-haired, and with sharp gray eyes.

"Ah, here she is," my father said loudly across the hall. His hand dropped on my back and led me forward into the lion's lair. "Gentlemen, may I present my daughter, Kylie?"

Trying to capture the grace and poise my mother was constantly exhibiting, I forced a grin. "It's nice to meet you all," I answered, glad my voice sounded so steady.

Tony arrived first; his smile was just slightly too broad. "Well, well, cousin. Do you not clean up nicely?" He leaned forward, his breath burning right in my ear. "If I'd known you were hiding all that under those school uniforms, I might have offered myself."

I drew back, my gut churning with loathing. I stammered, pulling away from Tony, "That's... kind of you to say."

I turned to see someone laughing low across the room. Lysander was observing the exchange while spotting an unbelievable facial expression. Our eyes locked, and he arched an eyebrow as though challenging me.

I lifted my chin, refusing to be intimidated. If this was going to define my life, I would confront it head-on.

Lysander glided across the room with a graceful movement that resembled a predator and pushed himself away from the wall where he had been leaning. He stopped just close enough for me to tilt my head back and meet his eyes.

"Kylie," he whispered, his voice soft and deep. "It's good to finally meet you."

I tried not to tremble, swallowing hard. "Likewise, Mr. Vincenzo."

The corner of his mouth twitched as if he were holding back a smile. "Lysander, please. We are to be married, after all."

His casual tone, as if he were commenting on the weather, made my stomach churn. Nevertheless, I nodded and managed a smile. "Lysander, then."

He gazed at me for a moment, his eyes so intense that I felt like he could see right through me. Then, without warning, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box.

As soon as I saw it, my heart started racing. It was true. At fifteen, I was getting engaged to a man I had just met.

Lysander commented, opening the box to reveal a diamond ring most likely worth more than most people's houses, "I believe this is customary."

I couldn't move; I just stared at the ring. The room fell silent as everyone bore witness to this dream becoming reality.

"Thank you," I said, pushing myself to reach out and take the box. Our fingers brushed for a moment, and I frozen at the touch. Lysander didn't react if he noticed.

Instead, he took the ring from the box and held out his hand impatiently. A moment later, I realized what he wanted. I placed my left hand in his with trembling fingers.

His hands felt surprisingly warm as he slid the ring onto my finger. I had expected them to be cold. The ring settled in place, unfamiliar and weighty.

"A perfect fit," Lysander said, his thumb gliding over my knuckles in a way that made my spine tingle.

I raised my head to study his expression, but his face revealed nothing. It was a mask.

A maid shattering the trance said, "Dinner is served," from the doorway.

I kept glancing at the ring now on my left hand as we headed to the dining room. It felt like a shackle, tethered to a future I never asked for.

The remainder of the evening passed in a haze of awkward speech and meaningful looks. While the men around me casually discussed business transactions and territory disputes as if they were talking about the weather, I picked at my food, too anxious to eat.

I let myself collapse only much later, when I was at last alone in my room. As I lay on my bed still wearing the clothes that made me feel like a stranger in my own skin, tears flowed down my face.

I hurriedly wiped my eyes when someone gently knocked on my door. "Come in," I said, hoping my voice sounded as steady as I felt.

To my amazement, my little brother Kael peeped around the door. Six years old, he remained innocent to the darker sides of our family's life.

With a small, doubtful voice, "Kylie?" he asked. "Are you alright? I heard you crying."

At his compassion, my heart melted. I said, "I'm fine, buddy," patting the bed next to me. "Just a bit overwhelmed."

He crawled up next to me; his Batman pajamas stood out against my elegant gown. "Is it because of that man who gave you the ring?"

I hesitated, not knowing how to explain the matter to a six-year-old. "Sort of," I finally replied. "It's complicated grown-up material."

Kael nodded sagely, as though he understood exactly. Then he abruptly flung his arms around me in a tight hug. His voice muffled against my shoulder. "Don't worry, Kylie," he said. "If he's nasty, I'll protect you from him."

Tears threatening once more for a very different reason, I hugged him back. "Thanks, Kael," I whispered. "You know that you are the best little brother ever?"

I silently made a vow as I held him. Whatever happened with Lysander, whatever the challenge, I would protect Kael and Ava from this life. Their worth exceeded that of pawns in our family's games.

And perhaps, just perhaps, I could figure out how to protect myself as well.