chapter 1

Chapter One

Myra

Tomorrow, I was going to do something I had never done before.

Something reckless.

Something forbidden.

Something that, if my father ever discovered it, might get me killed.

I was going to meet the Dragon.

Even thinking the name sent a nervous flutter through my stomach.

My entire life had been built around rules.

Don’t leave the house without permission.

Don’t speak to men unless Father approves.

Don’t wear anything that shows too much skin.

Don’t question him.

Don’t embarrass the family.

And above everything else—

Obey.

Always obey.

I was tired of it.

I had spent my whole life hidden behind the walls of my father’s house, watching the world through windows like some princess trapped in a tower.

Except there was nothing romantic about my prison.

There was no prince coming to rescue me.

And my father certainly wasn’t protecting me from some fire-breathing monster.

In my world, my father was the monster.

I had two older sisters.

Jenna was four years older than me, and Katrina was two years older. We had grown up beneath the same suffocating rules, but somehow they had learned to survive them better than I had.

Maybe they were smarter.

Maybe I was simply more stubborn.

School had never been an escape because Father wouldn’t allow us to attend one. We were homeschooled, carefully watched and taught everything he believed respectable young women needed to know.

Friends?

Those were people who couldn’t be trusted.

Boyfriends?

Absolutely forbidden.

Parties?

Out of the question.

And clothing that showed more skin than Father considered appropriate was reserved, according to him, for women with no respect for themselves.

Sometimes I wondered whether he realized what century we lived in.

Then again, I wasn’t sure he cared.

Angelo Benardi cared about one thing.

His business.

Everything else—including his wife and daughters—came second.

Lately, Katrina had become another piece on his business chessboard.

Father intended to marry her to a man nearly twice her age because the marriage would strengthen an alliance he wanted.

That was it.

No love.

No choice.

Just business.

Our mother wouldn’t stop him.

She never stopped him.

She had spent so many years living beneath Angelo Benardi’s shadow that sometimes I wondered whether she remembered what it felt like to have a voice of her own.

I refused to become her.

And I refused to become Katrina.

Maybe that was why I had done something completely insane.

I had applied to be placed on the Dragon’s list.

Even now, staring at my phone, I couldn’t believe I’d actually done it.

The Dragon.

I didn’t know his real name.

Almost no one did.

But women knew the name Dragon.

I certainly did.

I’d discovered him online completely by accident—or at least that was what I told myself.

One video became two.

Two became five.

And before I knew it, I had fallen down a rabbit hole I definitely wasn’t supposed to know existed.

Women talked about him like he wasn’t real.

Like he was some sinful fantasy given a human body.

The Dragon didn’t promise romance.

He didn’t promise flowers, dates, or happily-ever-after.

He promised pleasure.

That was exactly what I wanted.

For once, I wanted something that belonged only to me.

Not Father.

Not the Benardi family.

Me.

I wanted to choose the man who touched me.

I wanted to know what it felt like to have someone look at me and see a woman instead of Angelo Benardi’s youngest daughter.

And if Father eventually forced me into some miserable arranged marriage, then at least he wouldn’t get to choose everything.

There would be one thing he couldn’t take from me.

My first time.

I had already chosen who I wanted to give that to.

The Dragon.

There was only one problem.

He had rules too.

Of course he did.

Apparently my entire life was destined to revolve around men and their damn rules.

But his rules were different.

I could walk away.

That alone made them easier to accept.

My appointment was tomorrow.

My heart pounded harder just thinking about it.

I lowered my phone when footsteps sounded outside my bedroom.

For one horrible second, I thought Father was coming.

The handle moved.

I shoved my phone beneath my pillow just as the door opened.

Katrina stepped inside.

I exhaled.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Why? What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.”

That answer came much too quickly.

Katrina stared at me.

I stared back.

She narrowed her eyes.

“Myra.”

“Katrina.”

“What did you do?”

“Why does everyone automatically assume I’ve done something?”

“Because it’s you.”

Fair enough.

She crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed.

There was something different about her tonight.

She looked tired.

Not physically tired.

Defeated.

My irritation disappeared.

“Did Daddy say something else about the marriage?”

Her eyes dropped.

That was answer enough.

My stomach twisted.

“Katrina, you don’t have to marry him.”

She gave me a sad smile. “You know that’s not true.”

“Run.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere.”

“With what money?”

I didn’t have an answer.

Father controlled everything.

The house.

The cars.

The money.

Us.

Katrina reached over and squeezed my hand.

“Sometimes surviving means doing things you don’t want to do.”

“No.”

Her brow furrowed.

I pulled my hand away.

“That’s what Mom does. She survives. Every day she gets quieter and quieter until sometimes I barely know she’s in the room.”

“Myra—”

“I’m not doing that.”

“You don’t know what Daddy has planned for you.”

“Exactly.”

And that terrified me more than I wanted to admit.

Katrina studied my face.

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

She laughed softly.

“You are the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

I tried not to smile.

After she left, I waited until her footsteps disappeared down the hallway before reaching beneath my pillow.

My phone illuminated the dark room.

The confirmation was still there.

Tomorrow.

My appointment.

My one chance to step outside the life Angelo Benardi had designed for me.

Maybe I was making a terrible mistake.

Maybe I would get there and lose my nerve.

Maybe the Dragon would take one look at the sheltered good girl standing in front of him and send me straight back home.

But I was going.

Because tomorrow night, for once in my life, I wasn’t going to be Angelo Benardi’s obedient daughter.

I wasn’t going to be the good girl.

I was going to choose.

And I had chosen the Dragon.