Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
He said when his grandfather married his grandmother, he didn’t marry her because he loved her. He married her because his brother did.
She was his trophy, a wrathful token he could snatch away from the kid who had unknowingly stolen his birthright.
A wrathful and proud man, he had this ring custom made for his stolen bride to serve as an endless taunt. He bought her the biggest, most expensive ruby he could find. Silvan said they call it a pigeon’s blood ruby, that it’s the most coveted ruby in the world because of how rare they are. He had the stone cut and crafted in this shape suggestive of a heart and set in a particular and peculiar way, with a smaller band underneath to symbolize her, and a slightly thicker, more dominant band above it, like arms gripping the stolen heart and keeping it—and her—captive.
Silvan said James wanted her to wear this ring as a constant reminder that he kept her heart in a cage, that she belonged to him and always would.
I guess she still had unresolved feelings for the brother he had ripped her away from, and Silvan’s grandfather must’ve been similarly bad at sharing his wife’s affections.
It’s an extremely valuable ring, but one Silvan’s father hated. When his mother died, he wouldn’t give it to Melanie and sully her lovely finger with it because it was a ring crafted by hate and vengeance.
I think it’s perfect.
Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, but I even think it’s romantic that they’re both holding the same heart.
Whatever dark legacy this ring was born from, it’s one-of-a-kind, just like the man I’m marrying.
I’m nervous on my way over to the mansion, my tummy aching and tumbling.
Silvan wants to tell his parents our good news, but as understanding as they’ve been about the whiplash pace of our courtship so far, I think they might have some objections about us getting engaged so quickly. His dad might even take issue with Silvan giving me his mother’s ring.
I look down at it now, the dark glint of the moonlight hitting the rare stone.
I wonder what the woman who wore it before me felt when she looked down at this ring. For a split second, I can almost feel it. A claustrophobic feeling, colossal regret. Fear. Anguish.
What have I done?
Silvan’s hand finds my thigh and pulls me from my pondering. I look over at him with one hand on the wheel, the other on my leg. It’s so weird that he’s driving. “You feeling okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About what.”
“Your family.” I crack a smile. “I know you’re not worried, but I really don’t think your parents are going to pop open the champagne when we tell them this news.”
He smirks. “It’ll be fine. Stop worrying. Your mom wasn’t mad when you told her, and she hasn’t even met me yet,” he points out.
I slide him a look. “Because you moved me into a $14 million mansion, not because she believes it will last. I’m pretty sure she looks at this marriage as a wild opportunity that will fizzle out before I’ve graduated college and she just wants me to take what I can get out of it. Like when a celebrity gets wasted and marries some rando in Vegas. We all know they’ll be divorced in a few months, tops, but at least you got to see your picture in People magazine. That kind of thing. Your family isn’t going to see it that way. I’m not all upside.”
He cracks a smile. “Neither am I; your mom just hasn’t met me yet.”
“She’ll love you,” I say, rolling my eyes. “She’s not hard to please. Now your dad is going to think I’m being a golddigger.”
“Even if he did, he wouldn’t care. If someone wants to forego love for money, he’d say that’s their business. Since when do you care so much about my dad’s opinion, anyway? This isn’t because of that shit he said, is it? I told you, you don’t have to be afraid of him. I’d never let him hurt you.”
“No,” I say, waving him off. “It’s not that. I don’t know, he accessed that part of my brain. He scares me, but I still weirdly want his approval. I think I have a grudging respect for him or something. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.”
He chuckles, putting his hand over mine. “All the right things,” he says lightly.
Since we drove tonight, I get the now-novel experience of letting myself out of the car. Silvan takes my hand, and we walk inside together.
His mom has brought in the Christmas trees in the time since I’ve been gone. There’s a massive one in the entry way, all decked out in white. I spot a red one and a gold one before we get to the dining room. Dinner isn’t ready quite yet, so Silvan takes me to his father’s study where his parents are waiting for us.