Chapter 5 THE SENTENCE DELIVERED

CHAPTER FIVE

The Sentence Delivered

Vivienne's breath hitched as though the air itself had turned against her. Her mother's words

clung to the silence like a verdict, one she hadn't known she'd been tried for. The murmurs from

the ballroom still drifted faintly through the walls, but here the world was reduced to the cold

space between her and the two people who claimed to love her.

"I have no connection to him," Vivienne said. The words came out raw, unsteady. "I have never

met Grayson Holt. He has nothing to do with me."

Her father watched her with the detachment he used when negotiating contracts. His eyes, dark

and precise, held no softness. Her mother stood straighter, her posture perfect even in this

hallway where the truth had begun to unravel Vivienne's life thread by thread.

"You don't need a connection," her mother said. "You need to listen."

"I won't listen to something this insane," Vivienne shot back. Her voice thinned as emotion

strained against the edges. "You're talking about giving me to a stranger. A man with a

reputation so dark that people refuse to speak his name above a whisper."

"You will lower your tone," her father said sharply. "This is not a discussion."

Vivienne shook her head, her curls trembling against her cheeks. "Of course it's a discussion.

You're you're selling me. How can you look at me and call that family? How can you expect me

to obey?"

Her mother stepped forward. "We expect you to do what is necessary."

Vivienne felt the corridor closing around her, every breath tightening until she couldn't tell where

her panic ended and her anger began. "Necessary for you. For your debts. For the alliances

you've made without me."

Her father's jaw flexed. "This is not about debts."

"Then what is it?" she demanded.

He hesitated, a brief flicker of something crossing his features pride? fear? shame? before he

buried it beneath that firm, businesslike calm. "Our future hinges on this agreement."

Her mother added, "And yours."

"My future?" The laugh that escaped Vivienne was thin and wild. "My future should be my

choice. Not something you hand over like a bargaining chip."

Her father's tone hardened. "Grayson Holt is not a man one negotiates with lightly. His

protection is not a luxury. It is an asset few families ever earn. Do you understand the power

we're aligning with?"

Vivienne stared at him in disbelief. "Do you understand what you're aligning me with?"

Her mother's gaze sharpened. "Grayson Holt asked for a bride. We offered you. The contract

has been signed."

Vivienne's body stiffened. The coldness of those words wrapped around her like a chain.

"Signed? Without my knowledge?"

Her father didn't blink. "Your knowledge wasn't required."

Vivienne took two unsteady steps back until her shoulders brushed the wall. She felt the world

press against her, felt the weight of decisions she had never been invited into. Her breath

trembled the way her voice did. "I don't want this. I don't want him. I don't want any part of this."

Her mother's expression didn't soften. "Want has nothing to do with it. Our alliances depend on

your compliance. This is bigger than your feelings."

Vivienne nearly choked on the words. "My life is bigger than your alliances."

Her father's patience snapped like a quiet thread. "Enough. You will not disgrace this family by

resisting. Holt wanted someone from our bloodline. Not Tessa. You."

Vivienne felt her stomach drop, slow and sickening. "Why me?"

Her parents exchanged a look so swift and telling that Vivienne caught the answer before they

spoke it.

Her mother exhaled. "Tessa is too valuable to risk."

The sentence struck as if someone had slapped her. "Valuable?"

"Tessa is essential to our future business relationships," her father said. "She is being prepared

for roles that require visibility, influence, and stability. Holt is unpredictable. His life is dangerous.

His reputation "

"Crippled. Scarred. Ruthless." Vivienne's voice was small but vicious. "That's what people

whisper."

"That is precisely why we couldn't give him Tessa," her mother said. "But you..." She paused as

if selecting the correct phrasing. "You are adaptable."

Vivienne felt every part of her freeze. Adaptable. Moldable. Sacrificial. All the words her parents

never said but always acted out in private ways.

Her breath trembled as she forced out, "You chose me because I'm easier to lose."

Her mother didn't confirm it. But she didn't deny it either.

Vivienne backed away from them, one step at a time, as if distance could shield her from their

choices choices made at boardroom tables and over business dinners while she studied,

worked, lived, loved, utterly unaware that her life had been decided behind polished doors.

"You can't make me do this," she whispered. "I'll run. I'll leave tonight."

Her father's voice cut through her desperation. "You won't get far."

"Watch me."

She spun and ran down the corridor, dress brushing her legs as she darted past the staircase.

Panic fueled her steps, hot and breathless, until she reached the side foyer where a pair of

security guards stood men in dark suits, heavy-built, hands resting near their belts.

She lunged toward the door.

One guard stepped forward, his large frame blocking her path. "Miss Cross, you need to return

to the celebration."

"I'm leaving," Vivienne said, breathless. "Move."

"I can't do that," the guard replied. "Orders."

Her heart thrashed against her ribs. "Orders from who?"

"Your father."

Behind her, footsteps approached measured, confident, familiar. Her parents.

Vivienne pressed her palm to the door, pushing against it even when it didn't budge. "Let me

go."

Her mother's voice slid through the hallway, calm and final. "Vivienne, stop."

Vivienne didn't turn. "You can't keep me here."

Her father's tone was colder than winter stone. "Holt's men will arrive within minutes. It is time

you accept this."

Vivienne closed her eyes as the truth took shape like a dark, imminent wave. The door no

longer felt like an exit. It felt like an illusion a border she would never cross again.

She dropped her hand, fingers trembling, breath thin. Her parents stood behind her like two

walls closing inward.

Outside, in the distance, engines rumbled. Heavy. Approaching.

Her father spoke again, quieter this time. "Prepare yourself. He's coming for you."

Vivienne opened her eyes, staring at the darkness beyond the glass. The night seemed to pulse

with a presence she couldn't yet name a presence that would change everything her escape had already been sealed shut.