12: War is coming

Pov: Bianca

The wedding was in two weeks. And today we were fine tuning the details.

"Wow, Mária," Ines cooed, holding up a picture of the colour theme my mother had chosen. "I think this is a lovely colour you picked."

"It's an awful colour," I sniffed, not looking up from my magazine. I was perched on one of the plush seats in the dining room, early morning sun washed into the room through the glass walls.

Mama had picked rose gold as the colour theme for the wedding and in truth, I had no hatred for the colour but since I let the resentment spill out the other day, it was hard reigning it back in.

It had been reignited and there was nothing on this earth that could put the livid fire out.

I wasn't even sure why I was here. Why she insisted on having me over. They fine details of the wedding has already been decided on before I even RSVP'd their introductory dinner invitation. Nothing I said could change what had already been set up.

Still, I tried to make my mother as uncomfortab
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