Chapter 12: Since You're Not Getting Married Anytime Soon

Odessa's Pov

"What? You want to sign up for Moonlit Bonds?" Mom gasps, almost spilling her coffee all over her white blouse. She catches the cup just in time, but a few drops splash onto the table anyway, dark against the polished wood.

I nod like it's the easiest thing in the world. Because it is. I already signed up that night, sitting alone in my dorm with my laptop propped on my knees, filling out every field with maybe too much honesty. Now I'm just waiting to be shortlisted for the registration episode, waiting for them to call me back and tell me if I made the cut.

The second I got to mom's office after a meal of Chinese noodles on her couch, greasy and satisfying in a way that reminded me of being young, I finally had the courage to give her the news. She wasn't taking it really well as I had hoped. Her face has been cycling through shock, disbelief, and something close to panic for the last five minutes.

"Goodness, Odessa." She sets her cup down with a clatter. "That's really... really crazy. Why would... I don't even have words, honestly."

"Well, crazy is living, Mom." I lean back against the arm of the couch, tucking my feet under me. "Just give me a chance with this."

"I just..." She presses her fingers to her temples like she's fighting off a headache. "What do you aim from it? Win a hotter boyfriend?"

"It'll solve Pa Bern's mate problem."

"Oh f-ck him." She spits the words out like they taste bad. "Pardon my language." She sighs, dropping her cup on the crisp tea table before sitting up on the couch, her hands clasped in her lap. "But you really don't have to find a mate or anyone to get married to because of MAM. That clause is archaic, it's controlling, and frankly, it's none of his business who you love."

"This isn't just about MAM." I shake my head, pulling my knees up to my chest. "It's about me. About getting my life back and paying them back for what they did to me."

"And how exactly would a dating show do that?"

I lean closer and explain in detail what I thought about. Every piece of it, the way it fits together like a puzzle I've been solving for weeks. Let the crisis crush them so badly that the shareholders panic and the sponsors flee. Swoop in to save them when they have nowhere else to turn, be the hero they don't deserve. Invest the money I win from challenges in stocks, growing it slowly until I become the major shareholder, the one holding all the cards.

"I also believe that Lucas and the others know about the crisis," I add, lowering my voice even though we're alone. "There's been a lot of shady things that we've overlooked over the years, and I hope to find out the truth, but not through my relationship with Damien. If I'm out of the company, if they think I've given up, it'll give them more confidence to mess up. To show their hands."

Mom sighs as she processes it all, her eyes distant and calculating. "Great," she says finally, dragging the word out. "So how do you want me to help? I seriously can't rig the game, Odessa. That's not how this works, and honestly, I don't have that kind of control over production anymore." She pauses, tilting her head. "And what if you find a match there?"

"I'll find someone outside the game." I shrug like it doesn't matter. "With no strings attached, apparently. But that isn't my concern right now."

"It's just about revenge?" She raises an eyebrow. "And Damien, with you away from the house filming episodes, he'll be sticking his weiner in different places."

I let out a short laugh, the sound surprising me. "I'll give him credit there. Damien isn't that stupid." I shake my head, thinking about all the ways I've watched him operate. "He'll follow me, as well as Sarah too. They'll all think it's just another tantrum, another one of Odessa's dramatic outbursts that will blow over in a week. But they'll be walking straight into my trap. I'll let them expose themselves, little by little, until their whole skin is peeled and there's nothing but bones."

Mom stares at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then something shifts in her eyes.

"Registration ends tomorrow," she says slowly, "and the gala is only in a few days." She taps her fingers against the arm of the couch, thinking. "Unless—" She snaps her fingers in an "eureka" moment, her whole face lighting up. "I'll leave room for a late registration window for double the price. Then make sure just a few of them get shortlisted. Damien and Sarah both."

"Perfect." I can already see it playing out.

She smiles, wide and genuine, then reaches over to cup my face in her hands. Her palms are warm. "I'll make sure they all pay, baby. I'll do everything I can to keep investigating and make sure everything comes to light. Your father and I, we're in this with you. All the way."

The grin on my face due to her words spreads wider when I get to my dorm. I'm still smiling as I go upstairs, still floating on the high of finally having a plan that might work.

And then I see the flowers.

There's a large bouquet of white roses sitting by my door, so many of them that they spill over the edges of the vase. They're fresh, still dewy, the petals soft and white like snowfall. A card is tucked into the arrangement, small and cream-colored.

I pull it out and read the words.

\[Since you aren't getting married anytime soon — N.B\]

My eyes tear up as I find a disc in the basket underneath the flowers. Father of the Bride, staring Elizabeth Taylor. The classic one, the black and white version that I've only ever seen in clips.

I remember mentioning it to him once, Nick, back when we first started talking. I told him it was something I'd always wanted to watch, something I saw with my father when I was five years old but never found again. He remembered. He actually remembered.

He can be really sweet. He always has been. It's the only nice friendship I've ever really had, the only one that didn't come with strings attached or expectations buried underneath. Maybe my life wasn't so miserable after all. Maybe there were good parts too, hidden in the cracks.

My phone beeps with a reminder, pulling me out of the moment. I glance at the screen and my stomach flips.

I have to meet Rowan after practice today. I'm hoping that he'd buy into the idea of getting on the show with me. He's the only one I can trust currently.

I change out of my coat and into boxer shorts, slides, and a sweatshirt that's seen better days. Comfortable clothes, nothing that looks like I tried. I pick up my keys and head out, my fingers working to tie my hair up as I walk, so focused on the task that I don't see him until it's too late.

Someone's shoulder is shoved against mine so hard that I stumble sideways, my slides squeaking against the floor. I grab a random door for support, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Watch where you're going, Tesoro."

That ever arrogant voice. Smooth like honey and just as sticky.

Goodness. I thought we were past this. I turn around slowly, already knowing who I'm going to see.

Nikolai De Luca.