"I don't want to do this," I whispered to myself simply because there was no one else around to hear me. I'd been locked in my room a week ago, the door only opening for my guards to deliver food. No one had come in and I certainly hadn't been able to go out.
I was in a prison created by my own family.
I'd always known that my life wouldn't go the way I wanted it to, but I never thought it would come to this. In one month I was to marry the daughter of one of my father's business associates.
Oh, on paper it looked like a good deal. Two elite families of society merging in one glorious wedding that would more than likely be plastered all over the news. With the wedding, not only would the two families merge as one, but so would the companies, my father's and my soon-to-be bride's father's.
One problem, I was gay right down to my toenails. I had no interest in marrying some woman I barely even knew. Hell, I had no interest in marrying anyone.
Well, that wasn't totally true.
There was only one person I wanted to marry and he had been taken from me long ago. The heartache at that loss still lingered, even after almost a decade of him being gone.
I would never forgive my family for what they had done to the man that I had known in my soul would always be the love of my life. Their lies and betrayal had not only taken him from me, but they had made his life hell.
I didn't even know if he was alive or dead. The second he had been taken away, he ceased to exist in my world. I wasn't even allowed to mention his name.
And now, once again, my parents were doing what they thought was right for our family, despite my protests, and throwing me into a new kind of hell.
If they thought they were going to get grandkids out of me, they had another thing coming. I had no intention of having sex with the woman my parents were marrying me, too.
I'd kill myself first.
I'd actually been thinking about that for a few days, and it hadn't been the first time. The only thing keeping from ending it all was the promise Luca had made to me all those years ago that he would come for me.
I was still waiting for him.
Yeah, it was stupid. He probably didn't even remember who I was. While we had grown up next door to each other, our time together seemed so fleeting.
I had been five years old the day we met, ten years old when I figured out that I was going to love him for the rest of my life. When I turned sixteen, he gave me my first kiss...and then my world ended when they took him from me.
I never believed the things people had said about him. He was not the bad boy everyone seemed to think he was. I'd seen his heart and it was pure gold. I just wish I'd had a chance to keep it before they took him away from me.
I didn't bother wiping away the tears that filled my eyes and then spilled down my cheeks. What would be the point? More would just follow. I should have been all cried out, but apparently, I wasn't.
Still, I stiffened when I heard someone unlock the door and quickly wiped my tears away. When the door opened, my mother walked in, a couple of my guards standing behind her.
What? Did they think I was going to attack her or something? As much as I hated some of the things she did—well, most of the things she did—she was still my mother.
"Nicolas."
"Mother," I replied.
"I had hoped your attitude would be better, but I see that I was wrong."
I didn't bother replying to that. What would be the point? Improving my attitude would mean coming around to her way of thinking and that would never happen.
My mother sighed before snapping her fingers. A maid hurried into the room, a suit bag in her hands. She carefully laid it over the chair next to the door before leaving the room.
"I want you to get cleaned up and changed into this tuxedo," my mother stated. "We're leaving in an hour."
"To where?" I asked out of curiosity since I hadn't been allowed to leave my room for a week.
"Does it matter?" my mother snapped. "Just do what I said. And I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. If you bring shame to this family, your father will be very cross with you."
Yeah, that was never good.
I just wasn't sure I cared anymore.
"No, I won't go."
God, it felt so good to say that.
"You will do what you are told."
I shook my head. "I'm done listening to you. You've never cared about what I wanted or what I think. So, why should I care about you say?"
My mother's eyes narrowed. It wasn't a good look on her. Isabella Rossi had spent a lot of my father's money to retain her good looks, and I had to admit, it worked. She didn't look a day over thirty, which was about fifteen years younger than she actually was.
She snapped her fingers.
I jolted and leapt up when two guards rushed into the room and right for me, darting toward the bathroom. They caught me just as I grabbed the door handle.
I cried out as I was dragged down to the floor and pinned there by a massive weight on my back, legs, and arms. The only thing I could move was my head.
And I wished I hadn't when I saw my mother walking toward me with a syringe in her hand.
"You've only brought this on yourself, Nicolas."
