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Page 69 of Married to the Ruthless Duke

Luckily, unlike her first two lavish weddings (the third had been a drunken affair at an Elvis chapel in Vegas), this one was relatively short and understated. There were about two dozen guests in attendance, which was decent considering the uber last-minute notice. Besides Lorena, I recognized Ayana, my mother’s supermodel protege, Lilah Amiri, a famous fashion designer, and a handful of magazine editors.

Dominic sat on the bride’s side of the aisle, wearing an exquisite black suit and a solemn expression. The heat of his stare warmed my skin as I walked past him carrying a bouquet of calla lilies.

I was my mother’s only bridesmaid this time around, but the walk, the flowers, and the processional music excavated memories of another wedding from long ago and far away.

The doors to the chapel opened. Wagner’s “Bridal Chorus” soared, and butterflies caught on the frayed nerves in my stomach.

I was getting married today.

Me, Alessandra Ferreira. Getting married.

I couldn’t wrap my head around the concept. I’d fantasized about my Prince Charming here and there as a child, and I’d lingered on pictures of pretty wedding dresses on Pinterest when I came across them as I got older, but I’d never imagined I would marry this young. I was only twenty-three, fresh out of college and trying to navigate the post-school world. What did I know about marriage?

The skirt of my white satin gown rustled with each step. It was a simple ceremony with no more than fifty guests in attendance, much to my mother’s chagrin, but neither Dominic nor I had wanted any extraneous fanfare.

Dominic.He stood at the altar, his hands clasped in front of him and his posture ramrod straight.

White jacket. Black pants. Rose boutonnière pinned to his lapel.

Devastating.

And when his gaze caught mine, holding it captive, my nerves fell away like autumn leaves in the wind. His muscles were visibly tense, but his face radiated so much love I could feel the warm tendrils wrap around me from halfway across the room.

People looked at him and only saw the harsh edges and cold exterior. They ruminated over why the daughter of a famous supermodel was dating a “nobody,” and they whispered about us getting married too young, too soon, and too quick.

I didn’t care. They could gossip all they wanted; I didn’t need their validation or extra time to know he was the one.

“Perfect,” Dominic whispered when I reached the altar.

I gave him a shy smile, my chest full to the point of bursting. Life contained few certainties, but at that moment, I was sure that I was the luckiest girl alive.

I stopped at the present-day altar. I couldn’t breathe past the tears lodged in my throat, and it took every ounce of willpower to force my memories back into the padlocked box where they belonged.

Don’t look at him.

If I looked at him, I would break down, and the last thing I needed was to embarrass myself at my mother’s wedding.

I was so focused on not crying, I only half paid attention to the ceremony. God, this was a bad idea. What had made me think I could do this so soon after my divorce?

Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. Do. Not. Look at him.

I would’ve been a horrible daughter if I’d skipped the event altogether, but I should’ve insisted on attending as a regular guest. I’d played bridesmaid enough times, and the wedding was so low-key, my mother didn’t need someone to stand there holding a bunch of lilies while she recited her vows in English and Portuguese.

The familiar cadence of the words broke the padlock. Memories escaped again, flooding my brain with echoes of my own vows to Dominic.

“I promise to support you, inspire you, and, above all, love you always—for better or worse, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer. You are my one and only, today, tomorrow, and forever.”

I’d never broken my last vow. Not when I’d moved out, not when I’d served the divorce papers, and not when I’d pushed himaway. I’d promised to love Dominic always and I did, even when I shouldn’t.

A tear trickled down my cheek. I wiped it away, but in my haste, I made my biggest mistake of the day.

I looked at him.

And once I did, I couldn’t look away.

CHAPTER 23

Dominic


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