Page 81 of Merciless Vows


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“Thank you.”I accept the gift and hold it against me.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Bella says in the loud, overwhelming silence.

“You’re…?”

She studies me for another moment, taking in far more than I’m comfortable with.“Every woman should get to marry who she wants to,” she says quietly.“If she wants.”

The words hang in the air between us.

I almost laugh.

Almost.

Because we both know that didn’t happen for her either.

Her gaze flicks over my face, and for a moment, something softer settles there—understanding, maybe.Or recognition.

“I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances,” she adds.“I’m sure this isn’t the way you imagined your wedding morning would look.”

No, it isn’t.

Still, the sincerity in her voice surprises me.

She shifts closer, lowering her voice as if the soldiers posted outside the door might somehow overhear.

“If you need anything,” she continues, “anything at all, you come to me, okay?I mean it.”

“Thank you.”

She snatches a phone out of the purse that’s tucked inside the duffel bag.“Let me call your cell, that way you’ll have my number.”

“I no longer have a phone.”

The silence that follows is sharp.

“What do you mean?”Looking at me, she scowls.“You don’t have a phone?”

“Dante took everything that belongs to me.”

Her expression changes.

The warmth is still there, but her eyes blaze.

For a split second, she looks like she might march straight out the door and start a war.

“I’ll fix that.”Her words are calm, but the determination behind them is unmistakable.

And with the way she says it—like it’s already done, like the world will simply rearrange itself to make it happen—I believe her.

By the time I’ve changed into the silky robe, Mrs.Henderson returns.

Bella shepherds me to a chair in front of a mirror and then refills my mimosa before pressing the glass into my hand.

I take a deep drink as the stylist unpacks brushes and curling irons.

The room slowly fills with the quiet sounds of preparation.

Every moment takes me closer to the time that I’ll have to walk down the aisle to face my enemy.