I know both parties have to go to the clerk's office to apply for one because I was looking into it when Austin mentioned us getting married right before he turned cold toward me.
Adriano reaches into his breast pocket, and when he pulls out a piece of paper, I begin to feel faint. My gaze flits over the license, taking in the official seal at the top before dropping to the information typed beneath it.
The same address in Long Beach is beneath both our names.
I stop on the nameHon. Vincent Moretti, and the blood runs cold in my veins.
An actual judge signed this!
The fear of losing the ten million is quickly replaced by terror as I realize just how powerful Adriano is.
He can buy anything he wants. A judge. The law.Me.
My voice quivers as I admit, “You’re scaring me.”
He looks completely unbothered. “You have thirty minutes.”
When he walks to the door, I cry, “God. Don’t you have a heart?”
He steps into the hallway and gives me a mercilessly dark look. “Don’t make me drag you down the aisle because I will.”
“Please…” The door is shut before I can finish begging.
What the actual hell?!
I glance wildly around me while my mind goes over my options, which are… none. I don’t have a choice. I signed the contract. He has a marriage license.
I want the money.
Shit. Married for life, though?
Okay, calm down. People have gotten married to strangers for far less.
And besides, what exactly will I go back to if I fight him and somehow win? I have no family waiting with open arms to help me. No place to stay. No job.
I’ll probably be saddled with a mountain of legal debt because someone like Adriano can prolong a court case for years.
Shit, I transferred the money into investments, which will be used against me as proof that I accepted it.
I rub my palm over my clammy forehead as I turn to look at the dress that’s still in the box.
A sick feeling settles in my stomach as I realize I really have no choice.
Chapter 12
Laurie
At first, it felt like I had time, but damn, thirty minutes just flashed by.
Standing in a wedding dress made from soft silk that drapes loosely over my body, the expensive fabric flows as I walk to the door.
Delicate lace covers the sleeves and trails over the bodice in elegant patterns. It’s simple compared to the usual gowns I’ve seen in magazines, but there’s something understated and painfully expensive about it.
My sneakers are old and dirty, but at least the dress covers them.
Sucking in a fortifying breath, I open the door and step into the quiet hallway. I swear I can hear a pin drop as I walk toward the main area.
The pews come into view, then Little Ricky. He instantly notices me and grins as if this is a special occasion and not a forced marriage before starting to take photos like some proud family member.
