Original Sins by Faith Summers

4

Evie

“Still mad at me?” Dad asks, standing by the doorway of my room.

I don’t look at him. I just continue to pack my things.

Tomorrow, while he leaves for Italy, I’ll be going to Cordelia’s house for the next two months

He’ll be back for the stupid engagement party in five weeks' time, where I’ll be revealed to the world as Peter’s fiancé.

That’s when Peter’s supposed to put his ring on my finger. The ring of fucking doom that will start the countdown to my fate.

Dad walks in and stops right in front of me so I can no longer ignore him.

He takes the cardigan I was folding away and picks up one of my Vogue patterns. It’s an old one Mom had tucked away in her boxes.

“Just like your mother,” he remarks, and the mention of her softens my heart. “She wouldn’t go anywhere without her treasures. No matter how small. We almost missed the flight to our honeymoon because she wanted to take a mannequin with us.”

“You’ve told me that before.” When Mom was alive. This is going to be one of the rare times he mentions her, and it’s going to be to reach me somehow.

“That’s the story that reminds me most of you.” His hard features relax, and he holds my gaze.

Dad and I have barely spoken since that dreadful night when he dropped this bomb on me about marrying Peter. It’s not like us at all to be this way, but I just can’t get my head around it. What’s worse was him saying that was always the plan. If it was, then why didn’t I know about it before?

“I’ve spoken to Peter about college and left the decision with him on whether you go or not. I’ve told him how much it means to you.”

“Dad, his family hates anything like that. They won’t want me to go to college. They’ll want me to get pregnant straight away.” Peter has two strict as fuck aunts who look like trolls. I heard them talking some time ago about what a wife should do.

They’re the kind of women who have an opinion about everything and love the sound of their own voices. I always wondered why Peter couldn’t have lived with them when his parents died, but I guess Dad wanted to be the Good Samaritan because Peter’s father was one of his best friends.

“What would be so bad about that?”

“I’m not ready, and maybe that’s because you never prepared me. You made me believe I could have my dreams. Then you just take it away from me without thinking about how much it would hurt me.”

He sets his hands on my shoulders and stares me deeply in the eyes so I can see the depths of his dark gaze.

“Evangeline, sometimes when you’re a parent, you have to pick your battles. Yes, I had always picked Peter for you, but I didn’t know when your union was going to take place. I didn’t set out to destroy your dreams. Things just happened that way.”

“He would do what you told him to do.” Not that it would make me warm to the idea of marriage any more than I am.

“I would never disrespect another man’s rules for his wife. I will tell him what I want in relation to the business, but I’m not going to tell him what to do with his wife.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Evie, I just wanted you to be with a good man.”

“But he isn’t good.” I retort, and immediately I wish I hadn’t said that.

I haven’t magically conjured up any evidence that proves my suspicions, so I can’t go around with my accusations.

Not only that. When Dante was killed, Dad went on a rampage and terminated anyone with links in any shape or form to the plot to kill him.

I accepted long ago I’d never be able to prove Peter’s part in it, but if the day ever came that I could, I knew I’d need hard evidence because I wouldn’t want his blood on my hands without it.

Cordelia is the only person I’ve shared my suspicions with, and it was her who gave me that warning.

“He’s good in my eyes and good to me, therefore good enough to be my daughter’s husband. This summer, I want you to try and accept him. You’ll have your space to think while you’re at Cordelia, but I’ve given permission for him to visit as often as he wants and for you to do the same. Of course, there are still restrictions, but I’ve loosened them drastically so you can have some breathing space. Okay?”

“Okay.”

All that translates to me is something more to consider when I do find a way to leave.

* * *

Dad looks back at me from the backseat of the limo as it pulls away from Cordelia’s drive.

She puts her arm around me as Dad waves. I wave back with tears in my eyes and watch the car speed down the road. The tears are for several reasons.

Yes, I’ll miss him on this trip, but the other reason for the tears is that if I get my chance to escape, this could be it.

I worked out that the next few weeks will be my only hope. The lower restrictions aren’t the only weapon in my toolkit. The fact that I’m with Cordelia is also my biggest weapon because, unknown to my father, she doesn’t play by his rules. It’s always been our little secret because it’s the only way I can live my life. So when he goes off for the summer on his business trips, I actually have fun.

This is going to be the first summer where I’ll have to take advantage of her trust.

The tears are for that too.

“And hello, freedom,” she bubbles when the car turns the corner, and we can’t see it anymore.

“Freedom? Really?” I narrow my eyes at her.

“Yes. You have the summer of freedom with me, and by God, am I going to make sure you have some fun.” Although she nods like she really believes a summer of fun is all I need, I can see even she doesn’t believe that. “Come on, let’s go inside. It looks like it’s going to rain.”

As if on cue, a raindrop falls onto her dark mane of hair. Quickly she links her arms with mine and ushers me inside.

At the same time, she gives her bodyguards, Tony and Stephano, the all-clear so they can relax.

Instantly they do. Tony even pulls out a cigar and makes his way onto the patio to smoke and read the papers.

Cordelia has life good. She was the only child my aunt had, and when her husband died, she got married to a Scottish Laird and moved to Scotland.

Cordelia inherited this house from her father, which you could fit a small country in, and because she runs the resort so well, Dad trusts her with everything. That includes me.

She has him fooled. At least, I think so. Sometimes I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s aware of what Cordelia gets up to but doesn’t say anything because it would mean trying to find someone else of the same caliber of trust to babysit me.

Cordelia pours herself a glass of wine when we get inside the kitchen and pours me a little too.

“Let’s have a glass to celebrate your birthday properly.” Cordelia nods.

I take it because I’m feeling rebellious. Dad would go ape shit if he ever knew I was drinking.

“Are you sure I can’t persuade you to come to the party with me?” she asks with a twinkle in her eyes.

She’s talking about one of the Friday night orgies she calls parties. This one is the first of the summer season that will bring out all the hard-on party boys looking for an easy lay.

I’m not in the mood for anything that can’t help me, so my answer is still no.

Now that I’m here, I need to think carefully about what I’m going to do. I need a fuck ton of money to buy my way out, and I need a carefully constructed plan. If I get caught, Dad won’t just punish me; he’ll punish Cordelia too.

“I’m going to just stay here and unpack,” I tell her. “I’m not in the mood to party.”

She sets her wine glass down and walks around the counter back to me. Taking my hands, she gives them a gentle squeeze.

“Evie, I’m trying here. I don’t like Peter, and I wish I could do something to help you. I don’t like this idea that’s been thrust upon you, and I hate that Uncle Donny stopped you from going to college. I can’t stand Peter’s family, and I want more for you, but since I can’t change anything, this is the best I can do.”

I draw in a breath. “Thank you. I know you’re doing your best. I just can’t shake my feelings. I can’t think of anything that will change my mood.”

She smiles. “I heard Henry Dubois might be coming to the resort tonight, which means Georgiou might be there too, which means you could finally get the chance to meet them.”

I roll my eyes at her absurdity but at the same time feel my cheeks heat as well as other places I’d rather not think of.

“Cordelia, meet them and what? I’m eighteen, for God's sake. What the hell do you think is going to happen if I meet them?”

I couldn’t even talk to guys properly in high school without my father hearing about it. And God bless the boy who would be brave enough to talk to me. That was a rare occasion. I doubt it would be any different if I met Georgiou or Henry. In fact, it would be worse, and I would just die if either of them treated me like a child.

“Relax, I wouldn’t say who you were. And please, eighteen means any guy who you encounter will just be grateful your legal.” She laughs in that jovial manner she always issues my way. As if I’m so naïve.

The reason I’m so naïve, though, is because I am. While she’s always talking about her boyfriends and wild getaways where she has threesomes and foursomes, I’m none the wiser because I’m a virgin.

“Legal, Evie,” she reminds me. “Do me a favor and fuck someone so that prick won’t have the privilege of claiming your V-card on your wedding night.”

My mouth falls open. “Cordelia.”

“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

I shake my head at her. Not because I haven’t thought about losing my virginity but because I can’t believe her craziness.

“This talk isn’t helping. Just go to the party and have fun. I’ll just be here.”

Before she can say anything more, I walk away and make my way back to my room.

I’m thankful when she doesn’t follow. I usually find talking with her amusing and fascinating because she’s so liberal, but I can’t muster anything past the doom I feel right now.