We’ve been friends for a decade, and I know her better than anyone.
I grab her hand and shake my head.
Audrey rolls her eyes and sighs. “Fine. The pleasure is all mine,” she grits out, her voice laced with annoyance.
I can’t tell if Tatiana notices the hostility from Audrey. If she does, she completely ignores it.
“It’s time for the bride’s entrance.” Her eyes dart to me. “You look stunning.”
A faint smile touches my lips. “Thank you.”
She reaches out and gently takes my hand. “Let’s go. Your groom is waiting.”
My heart twists at the mention of my groom. All of this still feels strange to me. Just two weeks ago I was a charter manager, and now I’m walking down the aisle to a man I should be running away from.
Despite the fear that claws at my chest, I follow Tatiana outside.
The moment the door to the decorated patio opens, a soft swell of instrumental music fills the air. It sounds more like a funeral than my wedding.
My fingers tighten around Audrey’s hand. I’m not sure when she replaced Tatiana by my side. I was too busy trying to calm myself to notice anything happening around me, but I’m glad to have her next to me.
“Breathe,” she says in a voice that’s barely audible. “You got this.”
I try to breathe, but it doesn’t work. My nerves are still a mess, and nothing I tell myself calms the churning in my stomach.
Sunlight spills across the aisle, which is lined with white flowers.
And at the end of it, I see him.
Leonid.
My groom.
Standing like he belongs there more than anyone else in the room.
He’s wearing his usual tailored black suit. His steel gray eyes are fixed on me with that unreadable focus that makes it hard for me to breathe.
I should look away, but I hold his gaze as I take my first step. For some reason, looking into his eyes gives me the courage I need to keep moving forward.
If I agreed to marry a man as terrifying as Leonid, then I can ignore the noise around me until I’m by his side. Until his huge frame is shielding me from everything and everyone else.
I take another step, and in the corner of my eye, I see my parents sitting to the left of the aisle. I can make out my mother sobbing quietly and my father’s arms around her shoulders as he comforts her.
I don’t keep looking at them, because I know I’ll break apart if I do. I fix my gaze on the man who’s about to become my husband.
Leonid’s gaze doesn’t leave mine, either. It feels less like he’s watching me and more like he’s claiming me with his eyes. As if he’s memorizing every step I take toward him.
When I reach the foot of the flower-adorned altar, he reaches for me, and after a beat too long, I place my hand in his.
His touch sends a sudden, disorienting heat through my fingers.
His scent wraps around me, spice and cedar. It’s overwhelming in a way that makes my knees buckle. I should pull away, but instead I find myself leaning into it.
Drinking in his scent like it’s the cure to the poison in my soul.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers in a deep, throaty voice.
My cheeks flush, but I keep my expression blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affect me.
