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As our car pulls away from the curb, I steal one last glance at my house.
This is the beginning of the end.
We step out of the car and approach the church, my eyes darting nervously over the gathering crowd.
I have no idea where Andrew is, so the nervous anticipation is killing me softly.
We stop behind the building, and I follow the others inside, feeling like a puppet being pulled along by invisible strings.
In the bridal suite, Angelica stays with me while the others grab their seats in the church. She hugs me quick, then disappears to join Evander.
Last time we were in a church, we almost died.
Today, I’m in a different church, and I almost wish someone would blow it up. Minus the casualties, of course.
My mother enters the room, and I give her a small smile as she sits and takes hold of my hands. “I know today is not the outcome you would’ve wished for. But remember who you are,” she says, her voice steady and unwavering. “You are strong, Aria. No matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Though she knows I’m unhappy, she’s unaware of how Andrew has really been with me, and I want to keep it that way. We kiss each other on the cheeks goodbye and she, too, leaves.
T-minus thirty minutes until I’m chained to the devil.
49
DION
Three days earlier
What the fuck?”
I blink groggily, trying to force my eyes open. I wince as pain shoots through my body with each slight movement. What the hell happened?
I try to lift my hands to rub my aching temples, but they’re bound tight behind me, the ropes cutting into my wrists.
Taking a deep breath, I finally manage to crack my eyes open. It’s dark. The only light comes from a flickering bulb hanging overhead, casting shadows along the damp concrete walls.
The air is thick with the smell of mildew. I must be in some basement, underground.
My ankles are bound too. I strain against the ropes, but they hold firm.
My head pounds harder with every heartbeat, and I can barely think through the haze of pain. Was I drugged? I can’t remember anything clearly. The last thing I recall is leaving the house. How did I end up here?
I look down at myself. I’m still wearing the clothes I had on when I left: jeans, a t-shirt, my old leather jacket. That feels like ages ago. How long have I been here? My mind races, trying to piece together the fragments of memory.
Then it hits me—Aria. Panic blinds me as I remember the text she sent, asking for help. I was on the phone with Evan, and I’d hung up abruptly. I checked her location: she was at that club—the same one where I’d picked her up before.
When I first saw her message, I immediately thought she’d used again, and disappointment had hit me hard. I thought she was finally on the right path. She has been doing so well lately. What if something else has happened to her?
Fuck, fuck, FUCK.
I struggle violently against the ropes, trying to burst out of the chair. “Aria!” I shout, my voice echoing off the walls.
I doubt she’s here, that she can hear me. But I need her to know that I came for her. I didn’t abandon her like the first time when she’d reached out and I ignored her.
I hear footsteps approaching, the sound ominous, and I stop struggling. The door creaks open, a figure stepping into the dim light.
Andrew.
My jaw tenses. “Son of a bitch,” I snap, gritting my teeth.
