Twisted (Never After #4)(29)

“Fine.” She smacks her thighs, moving to the edge of the bed. “You’re being dramatic as fuck, Yasmin. You’re playing this ‘woe is me’ card when all you really need to do is tell your dad how you feel.”

A sick feeling sinks in my gut. She was right. I should have let her keep her mouth shut. “I’ve told you it’s not that simple.”

She lifts both of her hands in the air like she’s weighing something in her palms. “Tell your dad the truth, or shackle yourself to a stranger.” She shrugs. “Seems pretty simple to me.”

I shake my head. “And have him react by firing Aidan and his mom, throwing them out on the streets? Making it so that I’d never see him again? No thanks.”

She lets out a humorless chuckle before standing up and walking across the room until she’s hovering behind me in the vanity mirror. Her hands reach out, squeezing my shoulders, our eyes meeting in the reflection. “If anyone understands you, it’s me. You think I want to be in law school? That my lifelong dream is to become a lawyer? Forced academic marriage is its own type of hell that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. If I didn’t think my dad would cut me off, leaving me destitute on the streets somewhere, I would be doing literally anything else.”

Her brows are high on her forehead, and I shrink into myself, feeling bad that I even thought for a second she wouldn’t get it. We’re cut from the same cloth, just with different parents and different visions of what they wanted for their daughters. Where my father is in diamonds, Riya’s is in oil. My father wants me married and barefoot in the kitchen. Riya’s wants her to become a “force of power” in the world.

I reach back and grip her fingers. “Yeah, but…I think you’d probably tell your father about Aidan just to see the disappointment on his face. I’m not like that, Riya. I don’t want him to hate me.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” She winks, squeezing my shoulder. “But in this situation? I’d probably marry Julian Faraci just so I could get free rides on what I’m sure is his monster cock for the rest of my life.”

A laugh pours out of me, and I shrug out of her grasp, scrunching my nose. “Bleh. Pass.”

“Well…you do still have a choice. You either wait for Aidan to do whatever it is he’s doing to win your dad over, or you control what little you can.”

“Choosing between Julian and a random stranger is hardly a positive outlook,” I reply, dread pricking me like needles.

She leans forward, her arm brushing mine as she grabs a matte lipstick from my vanity. “At least with Julian, you know what you’re getting into. And if nothing else, pretending to be with him buys you some time, right?”

My stomach twists until it aches, and I bite the corner of my cheek.

“I don’t envy you, sister. Here.” She hands me the lipstick. “Wear the red. It’s a power color.”





I’ve been at the restaurant 1001 Arabian Nights for the past fifteen minutes, trying to work up the courage to go inside and meet my first official suitor.

Maybe I’m overthinking things. My anxiety has always bled into my decisions, making the worst possible outcome take center stage in my brain, but despite how much I try to work through the situation, it doesn’t make it any more palatable. It’s like the farther I dig the hole, the longer the climb out is, and somewhere along the way, I’ve lost my voice completely, becoming docile. a mute trophy for people to lug around.

Eventually I work up the courage to head inside, wondering idly if my father is already there. I thought we were driving together, but when I slipped into the car waiting at the front of the estate, it took off without him.

The turquoise silk dress is soft against my thighs as I exit the car, my heels aching as soon as I take my first step onto the sidewalk. The stilettos are an unfortunate discomfort that I couldn’t pass up because they match the outfit so well. There’s a small chill in the air, making goose bumps sprout along my skin.

This restaurant is known for its high-end clientele and pricey menu, so I’m not surprised to see a doorman holding open the door as I make my way inside. When I step into the building, the rich smells hit my nostrils. Distant sounds of clinking from plates and the low murmur of voices from the other patrons assault my senses and make my palms sweat.

I swallow back the unease of being in a crowded public place and walk toward the hostess stand, noticing the pretty blond girl with a bored look on her face and a white button-up with a small black bow tie around the collar.

Her eyes lock on mine, but before I can say a word, someone touches my lower back, sending a shock through my body. I jolt immediately, twisting around and coming face-to- face with Julian.

I roll my eyes, sidestepping his touch. “Of course you’re here. Being my father’s lap dog again?”

The corners of his lips twitch as he moves to stand beside me, his hand coming back but this time wrapping around my hip possessively and pulling me into him.

My stomach flips.

Jerk.

The hostess beams up at him, her eyes glazing over when he flashes her a dazzling smile. “Mr. Faraci.”

I roll my eyes again, because of course he comes here enough to be recognized.

“Andrea, you’re looking beautiful. I believe we have a gentleman waiting for us already by the name of Alexander Sokolov.”