The morning of my wedding, I woke up alone. Gianna had enforced a strict "no seeing the bride before the ceremony" rule, which meant Dez had been banished to his penthouse while I spent the night at a luxury hotel suite with my bridesmaids.
Well. Bridesmaid, singular. Maya.
When I realized that my uncle was willing to hurt anybody who was close to me after my mom passed, I put distance between me and friends. Severing ties and protecting the people that I cared about. I’d sent them invitations to come, but hadn’t included them in the wedding party.
Maya sat at the vanity getting her makeup done, chatting with the makeup artist about foundation shades, while I stood at the window in my silk robe and stared out the window. In mere hours, I'd be married. I was excited, but had to admit how much I missed my old life. My mother…
"You okay over there?" Maya called.
"Yeah." I turned to face her. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"That things were different before my mom passed and how much I miss her. About how three months ago, I didn't know Dez existed. And now I'm marrying him."
"Cold feet?"
"No." I was surprised by how certain I sounded. "The opposite, actually. I just... I can't believe this is real. That he's real. That someone like him would want someone like me."
The makeup artist was a woman named Violet who Gianna had flown in from New York, looked up sharply. "Someone like you? Girl, have you looked in a mirror? You're gorgeous."
"It's not about looks," I said, though the compliment warmed me. "It's about... everything else. My life is complicated. My family situation is a disaster. I come with an uncle who wants me dead and a company that's barely holding together and a deadline that forced me into this?—"
"Stop." Maya stood, crossing to me. "You're spiraling. And you need to stop before you ruin your makeup."
"I haven't had my makeup done yet."
"Pre-emptive concern." She took my hands. "Listen to me. Dez is not marrying you because of a deadline or a business arrangement or whatever practical reason you want to hide behind. He's marrying you because he fell in love with you. I've seen the way he looks at you, Angelina. Like you hung the moon and are the most precious thing in his world."
"It’s only been three months. Maybe it’s moving too quickly."
"And yet you know him better than most people who've been together for years." She squeezed my hands.
She was right. Somehow, in three months, Dez and I had built something deeper than I'd built in years-long relationships.
"And he knows you," Maya continued.
Tears pricked at my eyes. "He does.”
Violet said cheerfully, waving me over. "Come on, bride. Let's make you so beautiful that your husband cries when he sees you."
Four hours later, I stood in front of a full-length mirror and barely recognized myself. The dress was perfect. Ivory silk that hugged my curves before flowing into a subtle train. Off-the-shoulder sleeves that made my collarbones look elegant. A neckline that was sexy without being inappropriate for a church ceremony.
My hair was swept up in an intricate updo. The pearl white nail polish Dez had insisted on months ago gleamed against my dark skin. My makeup was a flawless, soft, romantic look that enhanced rather than hid. And the jewelry?—
Dez had sent over a set this morning with a note.
Something borrowed from my mother. She insists you wear them.
-D
Diamond earrings and a matching necklace that probably cost more than my car. I was wearing his mother's diamonds. The weight of it, the significance, made my chest tight.
"Wow." Maya appeared behind me, already dressed in her deep burgundy bridesmaid gown that complemented my ivory beautifully. "Angelina. You look?—"
"Like a bride?" I tried to joke, but my voice came out shaky.
"Like a queen." She handed me my bouquet, white roses mixed with blood red peonies. "Dez is going to lose his mind when he sees you."
