Patricia's POV...
"Father, you can't do this to me!"
The words tore from my throat, raw and desperate, echoing in the cavernous marble foyer of the home I'd grown up in—a home that now felt like the most elegant prison in the world.
My father turned slowly, his tailored suit crisp, his expression carved from ice. "Look at you, Patricia." His voice was a scalpel, precise and cold. "Don't you feel stupid? You have wasted time—years of your life—on a man who doesn't want you. Your two junior sisters are already married, settled, happy. Building families. Fulfilling their purpose. And here you are, still begging to go to that… Lucian of a thing."
I clenched my fists so tightly my nails bit into my palms. The pain was grounding, a sharp counterpoint to the humiliation.
It was all Robert's fault. That worm. That silent, watchful guard who had stood outside my door for a decade.
Did you know this fool went to my father and told him Lucian had kidnapped me?
