Zandie and Elizabeth held a whispered conversation, then Elizabeth hastened from the room.
“You know this is wrong, Zandie,” I urged. “I’ve obviously been kept drugged, held here against my will, and forced into a marriage my father arranged without my knowledge or consent. That isn’t right, you must know that in your heart.”
“Your father pays me good money, Miss van Staden.”
“Do you have a daughter?”
My question made her halt, then nod subtly.
“And would you allow this to happen to her?”
Zandie raised her chin. “I would do what I must and be grateful for opportunities for her.”
I scrubbed both hands over my face. There was no point in reasoning with her—life here was a world away from the U.S., and to Zandie, I was honored to have such a noble marriage offer.
My head whirled and remained hazy when my father appeared with his expression hardened and pinched. I glared and rose to my feet when he encroached into my space.
“Helga, put your dress on. I will not ask you a second time.”
My chin lifted in defiance. “And what if I don’t?”
“I will force you.”
I scoffed. “You can’t force me to do shit.”
He tsked and clicked his fingers, drawing my attention to movement at the doorway. Fear unfurled in my stomach and my heart lurched when Mom was pushed into the room at knife point.
“Mom!”
The press of the blade left its indent on her fragile neck, warning me… Breaking me.
“You wouldn’t,” I breathed out.
My father’s emotionless gaze met mine. “I wouldn’t, but Omari would.”
“Let her go!” I cried desperately.
“I will. After you’re wed to Reinhardt.”
I bit down hard. Refusals on the tip of my tongue dissipated thanks to the fear in Mom’s wide eyes. It sliced right through my chest.
“I’ll do it,” I murmured. “I’ll marry him, just don’t hurt her. Let her go.”
“She will be released after the ceremony. Until then… Omari, escort my wife back to her room.”
“No wait!” I exclaimed. “Let me hug her.” I moved before my father gave a curt nod, then wrapped my arms around Mom.
Despite the blade remaining between us, she wrapped me in a tight embrace and shuddered, holding back tears.
“I’ll come for you,” I promised on a fleeting whisper. “I love you.”
“I love you too, honey.”
Then she was ripped from my arms and hustled from sight.
My stricken focus found my father’s stern face. With displeasure and impatience, he flicked his wrist to expose a swanky wristwatch.
“You have twenty minutes to be downstairs. Do not make me or your mother wait.”