I lifted onto the balls of my feet with practiced enthusiasm, lips meeting his with the kind of bright, delighted energy a bride should have. On the outside, I kissed him as if I loved him. On the inside, I kissed him like a woman kissing her way closer to murder.
Maybe—just maybe—there was a flickerof something genuine beneath the performance.Excitement. Anticipation.A spark of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
When he pulled back, his eyes seemed to hold some type of sincere devotion toward me, but I couldn’t let it derail me from my plans. I couldn’t let him fool me. Hand in hand, we walked back down the aisle where his family and my family were silent in their approvals, but I didn’t care at all about any of them. The only ones I wanted in attendance could never be.
The Cristof wives, for starters, and their wonderful mother-in-law. Don, maybe, and even Ivan. It still stung that he left. It stung so badly I wondered if I would ever recover, but I couldn’t focus on that either, or it would choke me up.
The photographer snapped picture after picture as we grinned and then, much to my surprise, Donovan dipped me at the end of the aisle. His grin was wicked as he whispered, “Should we go find a closet and explore each other before the reception?”
For anyone else—for Ivan—I would’ve blushed. Melted. Lost every coherent thought in my head. But with Donovan? There was only nausea. A hollow, twisting mortification that crawled up my throat like bile. Still, I kept my face exactly where it needed to be: flirty, coy, the perfectlittle wifeypretending to be overwhelmed by her powerful husband. With a soft giggle, I tapped his chest with my bouquet—white roses, I hated white roses, I didn’t choose them, white roses that represented everything about this day that wasn’t mine.
Nothing about this wedding was me.
Nothing about this relationship wasus.
Maybe that was the point. Neither one of us picked anything, because in reality, there wasn’t really an us, and he knew it just as much as I did.
He pulled me upright, arm banded around my waist as he steered me down the aisle and out through the glass doors leading to a private courtyard for more pictures. My steps felt like they belonged to someone else. Everything felt like it belonged to someone else, which made it a little easier to pretend.
The photographer eagerly waved us into position beneath an arch dripping with white orchids, and branches sprayed gold. Donovan pulled me close, hand sliding down my spine, fingers pressing too intimately, and too possessively.
I smiled for the camera.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Donovan murmured as the photographer changed lenses. “I can’t wait for tonight.”
I swallowed the disgust threatening to burst through my teeth. My lips curved again, slow and sensual, though my insides felt like they were rotting. “You’ll have to earn it,” I whispered, eyes fluttering up at him. His satisfied smirk came back into play, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe it clean from his face.
There were more pictures with our families, and finally, Jane was able to pull me away from my overly joyous husband. All I could think of was that he was broke, and I was a means to an end. Would he kill me and inherit all ofmy money? Was that why he couldn’t wait for tonight? I needed to act fast.
“You look beautiful, even if you hate it.” Jane hugged me tightly as if she were putting me back together.
“Thank you,” I whispered into her hair that smelled like hairspray and the new perfume she’d bought with Ivan just a few short weeks ago. She was almost taller than me and I didn’t want to accept that. I didn’t want to even acknowledge that she was getting older, and I was about to uproot her from everything she’d ever known. Would she ever forgive me? Would she thank me? It didn’t matter at this point; it was all to protect her and someday I would show her the proof that I had backed up in several places. Someday she would understand. “Is Mrs. Cristof coming to pick you up tonight?”
All of my things would be moved over to Donovan’s home in the next few , but Donovan didn’t make arrangements for Jane. I knew better than to ask. It was best if I kept my mouth shut about it and played along. I didn’t need any more conflict. I needed him to believe I was all in, so I could get close enough. We would go on a honeymoon in a week—if I couldn’t kill him, and then who knows what would happen to Jane. I would probably never see her again. I hadn’t even made arrangements for her past the honeymoon time because I wasn’t giving myself an out.
I had a plan with the grannies, and they would make sure everything went smoothly. All I had to do was wield the knife that was currently hidden in one of the bathroom stalls.
Jane nodded against my shoulder. “Don is going to pick me up and bring me back to her home. Are you really going to stay with him?”
I plastered another smile on my face and pulled away from her. Her lips twitched in acknowledgment. She could see that the happiness didn’t reach my eyes. “Of course, we’re married now.”
I didn’t know who was listening, and I didn’t want to scare her. She would be frightened enough when we made a run for it.
“You don’twantto,” she whispered, barely audible over the hum of guests returning to their seats.
I forced another bright, empty bridal smile. My cheeks ached from the constant pretending. “Jane?—”
“Don’t,” she cut in quickly. Her gaze darted toward Donovan, mingling near the bar, laughing with someone who looked like his carbon copy. “I just… I just want you to be safe. That’s all.”
God. She had no idea that safety was the last thing I was walking toward.
My throat burned as I smoothed her hair, careful not to disturb her curls. “Mrs. Cristof will keep you safe. Don will too. You’re my whole world, you know that?”
Her eyes glistened. “Then don’t leave with him.”
A sharp ache speared through my chest.She knew.Not the whole truth—not the plan, not the knife, not the blood that would stain this night—but she knew enough. She felt the wrongness. She felt the danger.
I cupped her face gently. “Listen to me. Everything I’mdoing… everything that’s happening… it’s for you. For us. When this is over, we’ll have a chance. I promise.”
