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The last thing I want is for Alexei to see me crying. I can’t show any weakness to this man and risk him using it against me.
My father leads me back over to the elevator and presses the button for the penthouse suite where my cousin Rosanna, the fake bride, is waiting to dress me. Her blue eyes are shining with tears as she rushes over to me and takes me by the hand.
“I’m so sorry, Bianca,” Rosanna mumbles as she leads me into the luxurious bedroom.
My eyes fly to the white garment bag hanging on the back of the bathroom door and my knees almost give out beneath me.
“I wanted to tell you all this time, but your father made me promise… I’m so sorry.”
I’m barely listening to Rosanna as I walk across the bedroom and run my fingertips over the garment bag. My stomach is in knots as reality starts to set in, and I fight the urge to run into the bathroom and hurl my guts up.
All I can think about is everything that I missed out on.
This is not my wedding. This is someone else’s wedding that I planned and am now taking over.
None of this was done with me in mind. None of this is my choice. From my dress all the way to my fucking husband. This is not how it was supposed to be.
My wedding day was meant to be filled with happiness and love, but those things feel so far away.
My eyes flutter closed, and I picture Alexei’s face as he towered over me in the elevator, his dark eyes devouring me as a smirk tugged at his full lips.
Something flutters in my stomach, and my eyes fly open as goosebumps break out over my skin.
Alexei Koslov is dangerous, and I would do well to remember that.
The moment I put on the wedding dress, I am just another pawn in his twisted game. And I’ll play my part well.
“Your dad’s an intimidating man. I didn’t know how to tell him no.” Rosanna continues to babble on, filling the silence with empty apologies as I stare and stare at the garment bag. “The dress will look just as lovely on you…”
I know she’s only trying to ease her own guilt in the role she played in this, but I’m too tired to care. Too hurt.
In truth, I loved this dress, for Rosanna. It suited her curvy frame perfectly, and the strapless detail with her flaming red hair draping around her shoulders would have been breathtaking.
I never for a second pictured myself putting it on and walking down the aisle. Marriage was so far in the future for me, something I thought would happen when I felt ready to commit fully to someone I loved, someone who I wanted to build a life with.
Instead, it’s moments away, and the man meeting me at the altar is one of the most powerful men in the city, and a complete and total stranger.
“I guess I better get dressed.” I reach for the zipper with shaking hands.
I let Rosanna fix my hair, keeping with the slicked back updo, and touch up my makeup. I can barely look at myself in the mirror as she works, not wanting to see the haunted look in my eyes.
The moment I step into my wedding dress and Rosanna fixes the zipper, I feel as if the last bit of air has been ripped from my lungs, and I won’t ever be able to take a full breath again.
I clutch at my stomach, my heart racing so fast I might pass out at any moment.
“You look beautiful, Bianca.” Rosanna finishes fastening me into the dress.
I say nothing, my throat thick with tears as I wait for her to pull on the silky gold dress that I arrived in.
I lose count of how many times she apologizes for the role she played. She shouldn’t be the one walking with me to the elevator where Papino is waiting, or the one to stand beside me at the altar to take my flowers as I exchange my vows.
That was always meant to be Zara’s role—my best friend since freshman year of college. She’s my rock, my person, and she’s not here.
How can I explain all of this to her without risking her safety?
I bite down on the inside of my cheek as I take my father’s arm and step out of the elevator, my legs threatening to buckle with every step.
As we round the corner, I let out a whimper as every seat is now occupied, and I’m standing at the end of an aisle leading to my future husband.
