Page 75 of The Wrong Husband

"Emilia, dear," my mother said, her tone deceptively sweet. "We need to have a serious conversation."

I forced a smile and sat down on the edge of a plush chair, feeling all eyes on me. "What is it?"

Marcela was the first to speak. "We’re concerned that Damian is not signing the divorce papers and is out with you in public. This is highly inappropriate."

"This is a conversation you need to have with Damian," I said firmly. "I already signed—"

"But he's living with you," Bianca snapped, "Are you having sex with my boyfriend, Emilia?"

"No, Bianca, I'm having sex with my husband."

I didn't expect it. I should've. Bianca slapped me.

I stood up abruptly, stunned, and held a hand to my cheek. "What is wrong with you? First, Mama hits me, and now you?"

Bianca charged at me, but Marcela stopped her by stepping in front of her. "Enough. Stop behaving like a child. Sit down, Bianca."

My father went to the other end of the room and poured himself a drink while my mother looked at me with disappointment.

"Who are you people?" I asked, looking around. "You're my parents…my sister. And…Marcela, you have a problem with your son, you talk to your son. I'm not his keeper."

Marcela had the decency to look guilty. "I'm sorry for how Bianca behaved."

"Why are you sorry? Why isn't she?" A few months ago, I would've run away like a little bitch, but I'd been growing a spine lately and it appeared that it was now solidly in place.

"I'm just perturbed that my son is still married to you," Marcela continued.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. "That sounds like a you problem, Marcela."

"Show some respect, Emilia," my mother quaked. "This not how we raised you to behave."

"You raised me to behave like a doormat and I'm done with that." I looked around the room. "You ambushed me. I have never hurt any of you. I've been there for my family whenever you needed me and—"

"Stop with the drama," Bianca cut in. "You're not suited to be an Archer, Emilia. This isn't your world."

Anger bubbled up inside me, but I tried to keep my voice steady. "And what, pray, does it mean to be an Archer?"

"A killer instinct," Marcela said quietly. "You can't handle any of this. You cleaned up nicely for this gala but how long will you be able to pull it off, Emilia? The social pressure as Damian's wife will be intense."

"You mean like the gossip sites calling me a boyfriend-stealing whore?" I demanded.

Something flickered in Marcela's eyes. She had not expected me to be defiant. She remembered the woman who had signed whatever papers were put in front of her, while insisting she would take no money.

My father sighed, looking at me with a mixture of pity and frustration. "I still can't understand how you got him to marry you."

"I put a gun to his head," I mocked, furious.

Marcela sighed. "This is not leading anywhere constructive. Gideon, as I told you earlier, this was a bad idea. I suggest, as Emilia does, we talk to Damian."

"You're so selfish," Bianca cried out, tears glistening in her eyes. "I love him. He loves me. You're in our way. Damian’s future is at stake here, you know? He needs someone who can uphold the Archer name and that's not you."

My heart pounded in my chest. I had always felt like an outsider, but hearing it so bluntly wounded me anew. "That's Damian's decision to make."

Maeve leaned forward, her eyes cold. "And you know what his decision will be. He was going to annul that disgusting marriage right away but for the media attention."

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "I understand your concerns. Take them up with Damian."

The room fell silent, and I could feel their disapproval weighing heavily on me.