Looking up from her drink, Lauren frowned. "Pardon?"
Checking behind her by habit, the older woman leaned in. "I understand what you're going through. I didn't believe it when my husband first told me. I know this wasn't your choice, and believe me, it wasn't Thomas's plan, either."
Lauren laughed bitterly. "Then why am I here?" She watched the lovely woman across from her hesitate. The Corporation's president's wife was beautiful, exquisitely groomed and wearing a diamond slightly bigger than her head. Sighing, she seemed to come to a decision.
"The Corporation has new... business partners," Arabella offered carefully, "important ones. Dangerous ones. They prefer... settled men. Married men. For Thomas to continue holding this account, he needed to become a married man. To show stability." She smiled sympathetically at the younger girl's rising fury.
"I'm being trapped in this hell because it looks better if Thomas ismarried?"
Arabella squeezed her hand. "You don't understand how important these business partners are. They are... deadly. Even more so than our men."
Watching Clara bounce across the crowded bar and heading to their table, Lauren asked, "Does she know?"
Shaking her head sadly, Mrs. Kingston admitted, "No. And we are forbidden to tell her. You're going to learn to keep a lot of secrets, dear. At the cost of your life."
Coming home from her "Hen's Night," just a little drunk and trying not to show it to Broken Nose Guy, who was stolidly waiting outside the club to drive her, Lauren undressed, still quite steady. She'd been terrified to drink too much, ever since the ugly night where her father's bullet wound had sealed her fate. Looking at her exquisite wedding gown, hung neatly on a little rack in her bedroom, she squeezed her lavender eyes shut, trying not to cry. Crying doesn't solve anything.
Chapter 4 – I Am All that You Have Right Now
In which Thomas and Lauren are married. And it is as horrible as it is beautiful.
If she'd been asked later how she'd gotten to the Royal Opera House, Lauren could not have said. She only knew she was sitting in a palatial dressing room with a hairstylist sweeping her blonde curls into an elegant chignon while a makeup artist deftly painted her face. Jessica, clad in an elegant blue suit, was darting this way and that, speaking with someone on her Bluetooth device about flowers, where the Russian vodka was stocked, and whether the musicians were assembled. For a moment, Lauren froze at the mention of musicians and she turned to look at the planner, causing the makeup artist to swear when her eyeliner went awry. Seeing her stricken expression, Jessica pushed her 'mute' button.
"The string quartet is a lovely group I've used many times before," she assured, "but none of them are aligned with the London Symphony Orchestra."
Forcing a smile, Lauren nodded and tried to sit still again for the makeup artist to finish her work. She was suffused with a huge wave of sadness, thinking that if she'd ever really thought about some future wedding, it would have given her great joy to have a group from her friends at the LSO play. Which then led her to thinking that of course, Macie would have been her maid of honor, which made the girl realize exactly what she was here for and what was about to happen. Her heart started pounding as she felt a wild sense of unreality.This... this really couldn't be happening, right?she thought,I mean, this is 2021. People can't just force you to marry them? Maybe I should have gone to the police?Her common sense kicked in, reminding her that a crime organization at this level likely owned the police- or enough of them to be notified of her efforts. Picturing Frank and herself in a shallow grave and a bullet in the back of their heads made Lauren dizzy, and she gripped the table in front of her, trying to take slow, deep breaths.
"There she is!" The cheerful voice of Arabella broke her concentration and Lauren looked up, earning another curse from the makeup artist. "Oh, my... you look so beautiful, honey. Doesn't she look beautiful, Clara?"
Clara's warm face appeared over Lauren's shoulder in the mirror. "You certainly do, Lauren. Wow, just- wow!" she giggled, clearly happy for the girl before her as she handed Lauren a glass of champagne. "Here, a toast!" Raising her glass, Clara intoned, "To a long and happy marriage. I hope you and Thomas are as in love as Michael and I am." Looking at the girl's innocent smile, Lauren felt terrible for her, wondering when Clara's day of reckoning would come.
"Clara, honey, would you go check with Jessica and see how close we are?" Arabella's tone was still calm and sweet, and Lauren envied her unbreakable calm.
Smiling, a little confused, the girl did as she was told.
Kneeling down, the older woman took Lauren's cold hands in hers. "Honey, are you all right?"
Staring at her, the terrified bride didn't know what to say. That she was trapped in a nightmare that she couldn't possibly comprehend? But Arabella seemed to understand because she plunged onwards. "Here's the thing-" she hesitated, trying to find the words, "Thomas is well-known for enjoying... force."
Lauren's brow furrowed, trying to understand what Number One's wife was telling her.
Squeezing the girl's hands, Arabella plunged on. "I'm concerned that you could get hurt if you try to resist him. I know you don't want this, but don't give Thomas an excuse to force you. Do you understand?"
The new bride shook her head, trying to shake loose the words rattling around her brain.
Arabella leaned in closer, whispering in her ear. "I have some excellent, high-dose Xanax, I'll give you a few, just take one when Thomas brings you home. You won't... mind so much, all right?" She watched as the girl stared at her blankly, then turned to her right and promptly vomited into the sink.
"I'm sorry," Lauren apologized to the wedding planner, who was at her side in a flash, "I hope I didn't ruin the dress."
"Of course not!" Soothed Jessica, a wide, false comforting smile on her face. "Not at all." After shakily brushing her teeth and taking a tactfully offer breath mint, Lauren forced herself to keep upright on the stool in front of her makeup table. "There you go," soothed her planner. "Now," she continued briskly, "I want you to take this." Her palm opened to show a little blue pill. "Not to worry dear, most of my brides need a nice Xanax for their nerves, and more than one has thrown up from nerves." She chuckled, "I've learned to carry a toothbrush, toothpaste, and some heavy-duty breath mints."
Trying not to smudge her eye makeup, Lauren carefully wiped away the moisture from her eyes. "Xanax? I'm not good with drugs, I don't, uh..."
Arabella leaned in. "It's just to relax you, poppet. It's not like my high-dose candy."
Lauren stared at the pill in Jessica's hand, then remembered the expression on Thomas's face when her father was shot. Nodding, she put the pill in her mouth and washed it down with champagne. A knock on the door sent them all upright, and Arabella cupped her face in her hands. "Don't be afraid. You can do this. Just be sweet and pretty and it will be over soon, all right?"
Nodding obediently, Lauren seated herself to let the makeup artist touch her up. Then, the crew forced her to stand in front of a full-length mirror so they could gush and sigh as the photographer fluttered around her. Staring at her reflection, Lauren was amused. She'd always been pretty enough, even though her father scolded her to "Smarten up! Better makeup and a decent wardrobe, and there would be no one to compare with you!" But Lauren had always been the music geek, wandering around with resin from her bows on her fingertips and hair bound up in a ponytail. But here, she had to admit that Jessica had made her beautiful. Stunning. What a shame it was going to be wasted on a man who cared nothing for her.
