CATALINA
I fiddledaround with the fabric of my dress.
It would please my father. It was a pale pink dress that fell modestly to my knees, the fabric cinching at my waist to show off my curves in the most flattering way. My hair flowed down past my shoulders and just reached shy of my breast was curled at the end, and I had on a fair amount of makeup, enough to highlight my best features but not enough to change me completely.
If only I could look like someone else tonight.
Be someone else.
I had on the black skimpy lingerie underneath.
My stomach twisted.
I was going to be sick.
Roberto walked at my side, leading me to the dining room. Something like pain flashed in his eyes.
“Here you are, Miss. Don’t do anything to provoke your father tonight, okay?”
I turned to him, tilting my head a bit to the side. My father would be provoked if I breathed the wrong way.
He cupped my shoulders gently and bent so we were eye to eye.
“You’re going to be okay,” he promised. I knew my eyes were shrouded in sadness as I took him in. Empty promises.
Roberto was just as helpless as me. I didn’t know how he came to work for my father, and I didn’t know why. I just knew he wasn’t born into this life.
“I told her I would take care of you. I will take care of you.”
I frowned at him. Who did he tell?
He didn’t say anything more. He straightened his posture and gently pushed me toward the threshold. I could hear my father talking and laughing with another man.
They both turned silent when I walked in, and I knew Father was displeased when I stood frozen there, not moving further into the room.
“What are you waiting for, girl? Come in and greet our guest.”
Our “guest” had short dark brown hair, peppered in with white and gray streaks, his face marred with wrinkles, from both old age and, I was guessing, from the sun.
He probably had naturally tan skin, but the skin on his face and hands was a shade or two darker than the skin around his neck and the sliver of skin I glimpsed under the gaping fabric of his shirt.
He wore a black suit that hung somewhat loosely on his tall frame, a light navy blue shirt, and no tie.
On his pinky was a golden ring, mostly for show, I imagined. A row of ruby red diamonds lined the band.
His dark brown eyes clocked every step I took further into the room, and he licked his lips. I stuttered a bit in my step—something my father didn’t miss—before I righted myself again and continued my way.
“Is this her?” the man asked my father.
Father nodded. “Henry Ramos, meet my daughter, Catalina. Catalina, greet our guest.”
I bowed my head slightly in greeting, and the man laughed, making my heart race. He slapped his thigh. “Fuck, it’s true what they say. The Mute Princess. She’s even more beautiful than I imagined. You really undersell her worth, Angelo. She’s exquisite.”
I swallowed hard at the predatory look he shot my way, wanting so badly to just run out of there and hide in my room forever. I didn’t want this meeting.
“I told you. She’s an Agnello. She would make any man proud to have her on his arm.”
I looked down to hide the fear in my eyes as they continued to talk about me like I was a piece of meat waiting to be sold. Because it was what I was.