Claimed by my Father's Friend

The Escape

Athena’s POV

I stand stiffly as the servants move quietly around me. They don’t look at me, don’t answer when I speak.

“What are you doing?” I ask, sharper now, brushing a hand over the silk nightgown I’ve been forced into. No response. Not even a glance.

One of them, a younger girl, lays a dress across the bed with careful hands. Another arranges powder and brushes on a tray. They move like ghosts—silent, practiced, detached.

“Hey,” I snap. “I’m talking to you. What is this?”

The oldest servant lowers her eyes. Her voice is barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, miss.” And then she turns away like she hadn’t said anything at all.

I brush hair out of my face, trying to keep my voice steady. “Please. Just tell me what’s happening. Why are you dressing me?”

But the silence only thickens, wrapping itself around the room like a rope.

Then the door opens.

I freeze, every muscle tensing. I expect Xavier — tall, dark, terrifying — but it’s not him.

“Father?” The word slips out before I can stop it.

He steps inside, polished and composed in a pressed suit. His hair is gray now — streaked with the years he stole from me — but he still carries himself like a man who expects the room to bend to him.

“Athena,” he says softly. “My beautiful girl.”

I don’t move as he walks toward me. Not when he takes my hand. Not when he squeezes it like he used to when I was little. Not even when he meets my eyes with something almost like regret.

“Why are you here?” I ask, voice trembling. “Are you here to watch? To walk me down the aisle like I’m some... offering?”

He doesn’t blink. “I came to do what a father is supposed to do. To congratulate you.”

I laugh. It’s bitter and short. “Funny how you remember what a father’s supposed to do now.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond.

I gesture toward the servants. “So what is this? Another one of Xavier’s dinners? Or are we past pretending now?”

He exhales slowly. “Tonight… he’s decided the ceremony won’t wait. He’s going to marry you.”

The world tilts.

I step back, bumping into the bed. “What?”

He nods once. “Tonight. He says it’s time.”

“And you’re just going to walk me down the aisle?”

His silence says everything. I see it in his eyes—the guilt, the weight of everything he didn’t do.

“He made it clear he expects it,” he finally says.

My hands clench at my sides. “And if you say no?”

A ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth — tired, bitter. “Then he’ll kill us both. And still marry you anyway.”

I swallow hard. The fear rises, but I don’t let it choke me.

“So that’s it? You walk me down that aisle and hand me off like I’m nothing?”

His voice drops. “That’s enough, Athena.”

“No,” I fire back. “You taught me to stand when I was scared. You said no one could take from us what we didn’t give. So what is this? What are you giving him?”

He flinches. Just barely, but I see it. The words land.

After a moment, he lowers himself to sit beside me. His hand settles on the edge of the bed.

“That was before I learned some men don’t care what they take. Some men will burn the world down to own what they want.”

My throat tightens. “Then why didn’t you fight? Why didn’t you save Mom?”

His mask cracks. Just a little.

“I tried,” he whispers.

For a second, I see him—not the man who betrayed me, but the boy he might’ve been. Before all this. Before Xavier. Before fear taught him how to bow.

He takes my hand again, stronger this time.

“Athena… you’re stronger than I ever was. Whatever he’s taken from you, don’t let him have the rest.”

I blink, barely breathing. “And what am I supposed to do? Just stand there and let him claim me?”

He leans in close. His voice is barely more than a breath.

“Run.”

My heart stops.

“What?”

“When we walk into that chapel, the doors will be open. Just for a moment. The gates past them aren’t closely guarded until after the vows.” His grip tightens. “That’s your window. Will you take it?”

I stare at him, not sure I believe what I’m hearing.

The man who sold me to Xavier is now offering me a way out?

“Why?” I ask.

He swallows hard. “Because I couldn’t save your mother. But maybe I can save you.”

Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. The servants are still brushing my hair, still dressing me like a doll, still making me presentable for a man who thinks he owns me.

“What about you?” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away. Then: “If you run, he’ll kill me. I’ve made peace with that. What I haven’t made peace with… is the idea of my daughter living and dying in a cage I built.”

It’s hard to breathe. I’m not sure I want to. He stands again, smoothing his jacket.

“They’ll come for you soon. Stay alert. Stay sharp. Don’t hesitate.”

I nod slowly, jaw tight, heart racing.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He turns at the door. His voice is low, but it trembles. “Make a life worth the risk, Athena.”

And then he’s gone.

The dress is done. The veil fastened. I don’t say another word as the servants finish. I don’t cry. I don’t scream.

Because silence is the only power I have left.

And beneath it, every beat of my heart whispers the same word:

Run.

---

♤♤♤♤♤

Time bends as the moments slip by. The dress is cream silk, the train far too long, the veil heavy across my eyes.

My hands shake as I adjust it—not from fear anymore.

From adrenaline.

Then the door opens.

My father returns, his face unreadable. He holds out an arm.

I take it.

“Are you ready?” he asks quietly.

I nod.

We walk a long corridor lined with mirrors. I barely recognize the girl reflected back at me—this version of me in lace and silence and fear.

But beneath the surface, something burns.

A piece of me still alive.

“Head high,” he murmurs.

I lift my chin.

The hallway ends in a courtyard dressed in candlelight and silence. Flowers, lanterns, faces I don’t recognize, all blurring together.

And there—through the archway—the chapel.

I can feel him before I see him.

Xavier stands at the altar, tall and still and terrifying in charcoal black. He doesn’t move as we approach. Just watches.

My hand tightens on my father’s arm.

He leans in. “Run when the doors open. Don’t look back.”

I don’t reply. I can’t.

We walk the aisle. The world narrows until I’m standing beside him.

Xavier doesn’t speak. Doesn’t smile. His eyes say enough.

The priest begins.

“Dearly beloved…”

And then—there it is.

The sound.

The creak and screech of the chapel doors opening behind us.

Light floods in.

Air rushes past.

I move.

I don’t think.

I lift the edges of my dress and run.

The veil tears loose behind me.

Gasps echo through the room. Somewhere behind, Xavier’s voice breaks the air like thunder.

“ATHENA!”

But I don’t stop.

Not for him.

Not for my father.

Not for the guards who might be chasing.

I run for the gates.

For the night.

For my life.

I run until my lungs burn and my legs tremble.

I run until Xavier’s voice fades to nothing.

I run until I am no longer a prisoner.

Until I am something more.

I run until I am free.