Page 209 of Bleed with Me

“You at least saw him.” Valeria cast me a pointed look, and I grimaced.

“Yeah, once, when I was fourteen and sneaked out to the meeting I had no business attending.” I shuddered at the memory, but whatever I wished to add died on my tongue when Lucas barged into the room.

“Finally,” he exhaled, crossing the distance between us in a few long strides. “This house is enormous.” He squeezed me tightly and kissed my cheek. “Congratulations. I could barely keep it any longer.”

“Keep what?” I pulled away when it clicked. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew.” He looked almost offended. “Who do you think ordered all those dresses for you?” He winked at me, a huge smile bringing out his adorable dimples. “Dorian’s credit card is a dream come true.”

I burst out laughing, and Valeria smiled.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” she said and left us alone.

“You should’ve told me.” I punched Lucas’s shoulder, feigning anger.

“No fucking way!” he yelled, grasping the first dress within reach. He pressed them against his tall body and spun around. “You would’ve argued, protested, refused. No one is in the mood for it. Dorian just wants to celebrate your love. Play along.”

“But—” I threw my arms in the air, ready to object, but he didn’t give me a chance.

“Just pick a dress and enjoy your day, Nina!”

I pursed my lips and turned toward the window. From here, I could see the entire beach. The flowers moving gently in the breeze, the white chairs, the ridiculous amount of effort Dorian put into making everything perfect. The stubborn asshole planned all of this.

My first instinct was still to find him and explain in great detail why normal people discussed weddings with their partners before organizing one. But the longer I stared at the beach, the harder it became to hold on to my irritation.

Our first wedding wasn’t his choice. He deserved to have this one on his terms.

I looked at Lucas, who danced between the dresses, admiring every single one of them.

“I’m doing it only because Dorian wants it,” I mumbled, approaching the pale pink dress that caught my attention earlier. It possessed the right amount of scandalous elegance with a high-slit, deep neckline, and a naked back.

“Don’t you dare enjoy your own wedding,” Lucas said, standing beside me, grinning. “Nice pick.”

“Hope the groom will think the same.”

Precisely at four pm, I walked down the stone path to the beach. My bare feet sank into the warm sand, the light breeze ruffled my hair, and the warm sun tingled my skin.

Happy, familiar faces turned toward me. My father stood among them, smiling proudly. Aryna, in her beautiful lavender dress, bounced on her feet beside Malin, who sported the expression of a tortured man. Valeria smiled warmly, standing beside Zyon, who tried to keep Zara’s excitement under control.

I exhaled a shaky breath, and Lucas appeared beside me, offering his arm as if he knew my suddenly wobbly legs needed the support. But then I saw him, Dorian, standing at the end of the aisle, and everyone disappeared.

God, help me!

The man was perfection wrapped in white. His tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The white shirt beneath opened at the throat instead of being strangled by a tie. The ocean breeze disturbed his dark hair, sending a few strands across his forehead, and the late-afternoon sun caught in his hazel eyes as they locked on mine.

He wasn’t smiling. He simply stared at me with an intensity that made the entire beach disappear.

For months, I chased this man. I stalked him, kidnapped him, married him, fought him, seduced him, and bulldozed my way through every wall he put between us. And now, for the first time, I didn’t have to chase him anymore. Dorian was waiting for me.

My heart made a pathetic little jump, and tears welled in my eyes as I walked down the aisle. With my every step, the man of my dreams was closer.

When I was only a few feet from him, his expression finally cracked. His lips curved into a soft smile, and his eyes glistened suspiciously in the sun. Lucas squeezed my hand one last time before letting go, and Dorian immediately reached for it.

“You came, ma vilaine,” he whispered.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I grinned. “I’m here for the food.”

“Of course.” He chuckled, and we turned toward the officiant.