CHAPTER 1
FLEUR
The woman in the mirror looks like a bride.
Dream dress—ivory silk, obscenely expensive, with delicate beading that catches the light every time I breathe. Strappy designer heels that Dominic insisted on, the kind that make my legs look endless and my bank account weep. Hair pinned up in soft curls, a few strands left loose to frame my face. Makeup done by a professional who told me I was glowing.
I look perfect.
So why won't my hands stop shaking?
I press my palms flat against the vanity, watching my reflection take a breath. The bridal suite is gorgeous—all cream and gold, fresh flowers on every surface, champagne chilling in a silver bucket that no one's touched. My bridesmaids left twenty minutes ago to take their places, hugging me and squealing about how lucky I am, how romantic this all is, how Dominic issucha catch.
He is. He's everything I ever wanted.
Eight months ago, he walked into my flower shop on a Tuesday afternoon, looking for an arrangement for his mother's birthday. He was charming. Attentive. He asked my opinion and actually listened to the answer. When he came back the nextweek—not for flowers, just to see me—I thought I'd imagined the connection between us.
I hadn't.
Whirlwind romance. That's what my mother calls it, half-disapproving, half-impressed. Three months of dating before he proposed, another five of planning the wedding of my dreams. He swept me off my feet. Made me feel seen in a way no one ever had before. Called me his sunshine, said I was the brightest thing in his life.
So why is there a knot in my stomach that's been tightening for weeks?
Nerves, I tell myself firmly.Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. It doesn't mean anything.
But the knot doesn't loosen. If anything, it pulls tighter.
The last few weeks, something's been off. Small things. The way Dominic looks right through me sometimes when he thinks I'm not paying attention. The phone calls he takes in other rooms, his voice dropping to a murmur I can never quite catch. The men who show up at odd hours—men with hard faces and harder eyes who look at me like I'm furniture.
He's a businessman, I remind myself.Investments, consulting. Important people have complicated lives.
But I've never actually seen his office. Never met his colleagues at a work function. Never been introduced to anyone from his life before me, except his mother—once, briefly, at a restaurant where she looked at me like I was something Dominic had tracked in on his shoe.
Stop it. You're being paranoid. You're about to marry the man you love.
I smooth my hands down the front of my dress. Take another breath. Check my reflection one more time.
I need to see him.
I know it's bad luck—the groom seeing the bride before the ceremony—but I don't care. I need to look into Dominic's eyes and see the man who brought me flowers, who called me his sunshine, who made me believe in fairy tales. I need him to smile at me and make this knot in my stomach finally, finally let go.
I slip out of the bridal suite before anyone can stop me.
The venue is beautiful—a restored estate outside the city, all manicured gardens and elegant architecture. I move through the back hallways, away from the main rooms where guests are gathering, my heels clicking against marble floors. The ceremony starts in fifteen minutes. I just need one moment. One look. One reassurance that I'm not making the biggest mistake of my life.
I find him in a side room off the east wing. The door is cracked open, and I can hear his voice before I see him—low, clipped, nothing like the warm tone he uses with me.
I stop. Press myself against the wall. Listen.
"—doesn't matter what she thinks. She'll learn her place once the ring is on."
My heart stutters.
"She's naive. That's the whole point." A pause. His laugh, cold and unfamiliar. "She thinks I'm in consulting. Hasn't asked a single question in eight months. Hasn't figured out a damn thing. She's perfect—pretty, sweet, too trusting for her own good. Easy to manage."
The knot in my stomach turns to ice.
"The florist thing is actually useful. Good cover. Legitimate business, cash transactions, no one looks twice at a flower shop." Another pause. "Yeah, she'll sign whatever I put in front of her.She's so goddamn grateful someone like me even looked at her twice, she'd probably thank me for it."
