Page 95 of Bleed with Me

Lucas snorted into his champagne glass from the corner sofa where he had spent the entire afternoon entertaining himself by emotionally terrorizing people with uncomfortable honesty.

“She looks like a Victorian woman dying from tuberculosis,” he informed Arianna solemnly, winking at me. “If you keep forcing linen samples on her, she’ll throw herself out the window.”

“Well.” She turned her stern look on me. “If you want to keep Sonny away from the preparations and convinced that your dream wedding requires weeks of planning, I suggest you play along.”

An exasperated groan escaped my lips, and I returned to my place. A minute later, I zoned out again and woke up only when Lucas sat beside me.

“Oh no,” he drawled dramatically. “You’re thinking about him again.”

“I. Am. Not,” I lied instantly.

He barked out a laugh.

“Sweetheart, you look one romantic confession away from writing his name in a notebook with little hearts around it.”

“I’ll shoot you,” I threatened, glaring at him, but he only grinned more.

“You’d miss me.”

He finished his champagne, turning to terrorize someone else, while I glowered at my phone. No text from Dorian, three texts from Sonny. My headache was becoming unbearable.

The heavy door opening saved me from another twenty-minute discussion about crystal candle holders. I raised my head just in time to see my father walking into the dining room.

His dark suit was immaculate despite the late hour, silver streaks in his hair catching the warm light as every conversation around the table immediately quieted.

“Lorenzo,” Arianna greeted warmly, standing from her chair. He kissed her cheek politely before his gaze landed on me.

“There’s the future bride.”

I barely had time to stand before he pressed a kiss to my forehead. His hand briefly squeezed my shoulder as his observant eyes instantly scanned the chaos covering the dining table.

“I see preparations are progressing well,” he mused, a faint smile touching his lips before he reached for an invitation sample. He inspected it carefully, nodding once in approval, but there was something different in his expression. A strange, quiet satisfaction lingered beneath the surface. I noticed it instantly.

“So?” I raised a brow at him. “What happened?”

“Straight to business.” He chuckled softly and placed the card back on the table. “I received interesting news today.”

“That sentence never ends well,” Lucas whispered, circling the champagne in his glass.

Ignoring him, my father adjusted his cuff.

“It seems our relationship with the Zhumagulovs is finally improving,” he announced, unable to hide the relief lacing his words.

“What do you mean?” I asked carefully, every muscle in my body tightening. Arianna’s brows lifted while Lucas visibly straightened.

“Zyon Zhumagulov personally sent us an invitation to his wife’s birthday party this Friday.”

Arianna gasped in pleasant surprise while the realization struck my chest, instantly waking every reckless thought.

Valeria’s birthday party. Dorian would be there.

“Well,” Lucas whispered, already watching my face with growing amusement. “This should be psychologically devastating for everyone involved.”

-43-

Nina

Every passing hour made the wedding feel more real. The diamond I wore for show seemed heavier each morning I woke in my father’s mansion surrounded by flowers, fabrics, guest lists, and seating charts for people I barely knew and liked even less. The whole thing sat on my chest like a weight I couldn’t shake.