My feelings for him had died the day his cover was blown—the day he destroyed my family's finances just to prove to that girl that his love was real.
The only reason I'd stayed was to hold up my end of the deal with his mother.
I was a decoy. A stand-in for the real bride his family had lined up through their alliance. A human shield, absorbing every round Victor Swanson fired in his war against the arranged marriage, against the expectations of marrying within his class.
Now their wedding date had arrived. My job was done.
——
When I walked back from making the call outside the private room, the sound of things shattering bled through the door, tangled with Victor's ragged, suffocated sobs.
I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and pushed the door open.
A bottle came hurtling past. It exploded against the doorframe, and a shard sliced across my forehead before I could flinch.
Something warm slid down from my brow.
Those striking eyes of his held a haze of liquor, but beneath it—far more than drunkenness—was a fury he was using the alcohol as an excuse to unleash. Fury and frustration, unchecked and vicious.