When I was in junior high I read a lot of Danielle Steele. So I always assumed that the day I got engaged I'd be naked, covered in rose petals, and sleeping with the brother of the man who'd kidnapped me. And also he'd be a duke. And possibly my stepbrother. Then one of us would get stabbed with a broken whiskey bottle and/or raped. Turns out the only part I was right about was that one of us was going to get stabbed.