“Anxious,” I reply. “I’m about to get married to the only man I never wanted.”
She pauses and glances at me through the mirror. An awkward silence follows, which feels like it lasts an eternity.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, we’re not allowed to talk about that.”
Of course, Lucio instructed his staff well.
How much is she getting paid to watch another girl get married against her will to a sadist like him?
“I hope he pays you well and that the money is worth it,” I say.
She sighs and lets go of my hair. “I’ll go tell him you’re ready.”
“Yeah, you do that,” I sneer back.
She walks off and shuts the door behind her, and the lock clicks into place again.
I take in another breath and shake my shoulders to release the tightness. I didn’t mean to be angry and chase her off, but the thought of marrying that monster has me snappy as hell. And fuck me, this dress makes it so hard to breathe.
I waltz into the bathroom and open the faucet, using my hands to create a cup to drink some water and drive off this bludgeoning heat sweltering beneath this dress.
I lean up to glance at the girl in the mirror again, then fidget with my breasts to pull out the item that I took with me … the tracker Matteo haphazardly threw into the car during our escape from Club Triton.
Am I doing the right thing by bringing it to the wedding?
Maybe I should’ve thrown it into the trash before Lucio inevitably finds out.
Then again, this might be my only chance to save myself.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, and my muscles tense.
“It’s time.” That sounded like Bartolo.
My heart races in my throat, and I swiftly tuck the tracker back between my breasts.
He hasn’t opened the door yet, so without even thinking about it, I pick up the nearest object I can find: a candle. Maybe I can catch him off guard, hit him, and make a run for it. I have nothing else in this room that I can use as a weapon, but it might just be enough.
With the candle firmly clutched, I approach the door as it opens. I raise the candle, but Bartolo swiftly grabs hold of it and throws it to the floor.
He laughs. “Stupid girl. Come with me.”
He grabs my wrist and drags me through the hallway.
“Ow! Get your hands off me.” I jerk free of his grip.
“You should have thought about that before you tried to hit me,” he growls back.
“It was just a fucking candle,” I reply with a snooty voice.
He pushes me toward two giant doors in the back. “Go, he’s waiting for you. And don’t try anything or else.” He points his finger at his throat and slides it from left to right, and it makes me swallow hard.
The doors open, and a long walkway appears, embellished with millions and millions of roses. Fake gold lines the path and the chairs on which the guests are seated, waiting for me. All eyes are on me, and the sweat droplets are rolling down my back just from the sheer number of glares.
The girl I was snappy to pushes a bouquet into my hand.
“Just walk and smile,” she whispers. “Let them do the talking, you just say yes and wait for him to slip the ring on your finger.” She winks, like what’s about to happen is the most normal thing ever.
I tightly clutch the bouquet and walk down the aisle toward Lucio, and I can’t help the disdain from dripping off my face. He’s a monster, and my hand in marriage will never be enough for him. He doesn’t just want me. He’s after my family’s inheritance, and he’ll stop at nothing to get it.
