A chill runs down my spine. This is going to be hell.
Maria fluffs up the skirt and straightens the train before pulling two moronic gloves up my arms that stop halfway between my shoulder and elbow. She pulls the hair tie from my hair and twists it into a bun then pins the veil in.
“Ahh, perfect,” she says, beaming at her creation, not at me.
Maria takes my waist and turns me until I’m facing the bay window that has three large mirrors placed before it. I take myself in.
I look like a stranger. This isn’t me.
Am I really going to marry this man?
Maria walks around to my side and looks at me through the mirror. “Your lips are looking a little lifeless. We’ll see about getting lip filler.”
I press my fingers to my lips.
“No,” I say, not meaning to have said it out loud.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’m not getting lip filler. I’m not spending my days working out and eating celery sticks to become some perfect model for you to show off. I’m not going to change myself for you, or Marcus, or anyone. I’m me. Get the fuck used to it. This is how I look and this is the way I was meant to be. There’s only one man who gets a say in how I look and he fucking loves me the way I am. He’d never change a damn thing about me and when I go back to him – which I will – I’m going to be the same fucked-up girl he fell in love with.”
“Are you done?” she questions, narrowing her eyes to sharp slits as she stares through the mirror.
I hold my chin up high, standing my ground.
“Good, now listen up, and listen up good because I will not be repeating myself,” she starts. “In twelve days, you will be walking down that aisle whether you want to or not. You’re going to have your lips plumped, your tits out, and a goddamn smile on your face. I have worked too hard and too long for this wedding and I’m not going to allow you to destroy it now. I don’t care if I have to drag you down the aisle myself. You will not make a mockery of me.”
I turn to her, feeling myself begin to panic, struggling to breathe in this tight dress. “Now you hear me. I am not marrying Marcus Mahony. Not now and not ever.”
“The wedding will go ahead as planned.”
“Over my dead fucking body.”
Maria’s hand slaps hard across my face, knocking the veil to the floor. Pain rocks through me as she dives after it in a panic. I take my opportunity to start peeling myself out of this death trap, pulling at the corset, and trying to bend the boning in the front so I can breathe.
“STOP,” Maria screeches in horror, desperately grabbing at my hands as I begin to hyperventilate. “That’s a two-hundred-thousand-dollar dress. You’re ruining it.”
“Get me the fuck out of it.”
I keep pulling and she finally relents out of sheer panic for her dress. I pull the gloves off and toss them to the floor and as Maria desperately tries to put the dress back on the mannequin, I grab my clothes and break free of this hell hole, going to the only place in this godforsaken house that will bring me some semblance of peace – Blake’s room.
Chapter 4
It’s late in the afternoon when I walk out of Blake’s room feeling oddly refreshed. His room was just as he left it, baggy clothes and all. There were basketballs scattered around the room, signed jerseys, his big ass TV, and of course, his porn stash hidden under the bed. I guess I’m lucky that’s all I found. I’m sure if I was curious enough to really go searching, I’d uncover all of my little brother’s dirty secrets. He seems like the kind to take polaroids of his skanky conquests and steal their panties.
With my stomach grumbling and the need to find some pain-killers, I make my way down the hall and slip into the service walkways which are the staff’s access around the house. They’re not to use the main hallways and staircases, those are reserved for family, friends, and guests. Any staff member caught fucking with this rule is usually fired on the spot. Lucien and Maria are entitled assholes like that.
But… it certainly has its advantages. Like times like this when all I want to do is get down to the kitchen without running into either Lucien or Maria. I probably won’t have to worry about Maria. She’s probably inspecting the horrendous wedding dress under a microscope, checking that every stitch and every crystal is still perfectly in place. Lucien though, he’s another story. He has his over-the-top security system with monitors covering one whole side of his office. Nothing happens in this house that he’s not aware of. If I’m sneaking around the staff quarters, I’m sure he already knows. Hell, he probably put a tracking chip in me while I was knocked out in the back of the SUV. I should probably check myself for that shit.