Chapter Seven
“Where are we going?” I lean forward, shoving myself between the two front seats as Dennis drives us through the city. He side-eyes me before shuffling himself slightly over as if he can’t bear to be this close to me. I choose not to be offended by it.
“We have one stop to make,” He tells me, voice cold and indifferent, “And then we will move onto our next destination.”
I recognize where we are, the streets and houses surrounding us right now are ones I could navigate with my eyes closed. We are on Willow’s street. Her penthouse is in the apartment building on the corner right here.
The car rolls to a stop right outside and Willow breezes out the double doors, a huge grin on her face. Dennis climbs out, rounding the car to open the back door for her.
“Oli!” She beams as she throws herself inside, instantly wrapping her arms around me.
“What the hell is happening?” I breathe.
“I got the message last night!” She tells me, “I didn’t know we were going dress shopping today!”
“I found out yesterday,” I tell her, “How did you know?”
“Malakai had a message sent to me, told me the time and told me to be ready and here I am! I guess he knew his future wife couldn’t pick a dress without her best friend.”
I glance to Dennis in the front who happens to already be looking at me in the rear-view mirror. He quickly diverts his eyes to the road, driving carefully through the streets toward the shopping district.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow, Oli!” Willow continues, “It’s crazy.”
I just nod my head in agreement because she isn’t wrong, but I have nothing to say. Malakai arranging for Willow to come wedding dress shopping with me was actually nice of him to do. And that just makes me mad at him.
Firstly, how the hell does he even know that Willow is my best friend!?
But then he is a criminal, isn’t he? He has eyes everywhere. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d had me investigated.
Fuck, I’m about to marry a monster.
We pull up to a luxury wedding boutique ten minutes later, the streets surrounding the shop quiet, and Dennis climbs out to come around and open the door. I would say he was a gentleman, but I’d tried the handle and found the doors were locked.
Willow links her arm with mine as Dennis guides us to the door. Once inside, I’m suddenly hit with just how quiet it is.
This particular store is popular for wedding gowns, it’s always busy and I only know that thanks to the number of weddings we’ve held at my father’s hotel – sorry, late father’s hotel, now mine.
“Why is it so quiet?” I whisper, afraid to disturb the silence.
“Mr. Farrow paid to have the shop closed today to the public. It is yours exclusively.”
My eyes snap to Dennis as Willow’s widen, my lips parted as words fail me. It’s then that one of the store attendants joins us in the front, her smile wide and eyes twinkling.
“Miss Lauder,” She says kindly, “Pleasure to meet you.”
Before I can question Dennis, I’m being guided toward the back, Willow on my heels.
I haven’t said a word in minutes, but the woman continues anyway, “We took the liberty of picking out some dresses we think would suit your body type.”
Okay, weird.
“However, you can try on any dress you like. Champagne?”
Still, I haven’t said a word. A flute is pressed into my palm before the woman floats away, leaving me and Willow standing in the center of the fitting rooms.
“Breathe, Oli,” Willow hisses, “Breathe.”
Her eyes are lit up with amusement as she sips on the champagne.
I suck in a breath, “Fuck me.” Is all I manage to stutter out.
“It’s very last minute,” Willow comments, walking towards the row of stunning dresses that are hanging there, “I can’t imagine having to pick my dress for a wedding which is happening literally the next day. We have to find you something perfect.”
“Where did the, ‘you don’t have to do this’, feelings go?”
“I know you, Oli, you’ll do it regardless.”
I didn’t have a choice.
“Okay, Miss Lauder,” The lady returns, “If you’d follow me, we have you set up in room three. It’s the biggest. Annabelle is in there ready to help you into the dresses and we can guide you out here for your friend to see.”
My flute is plucked from my hand as I am ushered into the large fitting room, a young blonde woman smiling at me as the curtains are pulled behind me.
“Hi!” She chirps but that’s all she says as time whirls around me, my clothes are stripped, and I’m bundled into a dress that weighs more than I do! There’s layers and frills and lace, the top half a corset style that’s pulled so tight it restricts my lungs and pushes up my breasts until they’re touching my chin. It’s a ballgown style, but bigger, heavier, and covered in glitter. I hate it.
I can barely walk in the thing as I make my way to Willow.
“Don’t!” I warn her when I see she is two seconds away from bursting out into laughter.
“Not this one,” I grumble to the attendant who nods and helps me back.
Getting it off is much harder than getting it on and I break out in a sweat as the dress is tugged and pulled until I’m finally free and can breathe.
“No ballgowns,” I tell them.
She glances to the rack and winces, “I’ll be right back!” She says as she grabs four of the dresses and drags them from the room, leaving only two behind.
I collapse onto the velvet bench inside the dressing room, cradling my head in my hands as I try not to overthink this.
By this time tomorrow I’m going to be married, and then what? What happens next?
She returns a little while later with several other dresses, “To be honest, I didn’t think you were a ballgown type,” She tells me, “I think mermaid will be best for you.”
I nod as if agreeing and watch as she takes a pure white gown from a hanger. It’s silk with no adornments at all, but it doesn’t need them. There is so much beauty in the simplicity of it that it almost takes my breath.
She grins when she sees me staring, “This is from our new collection, it’s technically not on sale yet but I just knew you’d love it.”
My fingers reach out to touch the material of the dress, breath in my throat. I would wear this. “Let’s get it on.” She says.
She helps pull the dress over my head, adjusting it down my body and it feels like heaven against my skin, so soft and silky it brings goose bumps up across my body.
The straps are thin, and the dress is form fitting, lining every curve like it’s a second skin. It has a cowl style neckline that droops low in the front allowing the space between my breasts to show, almost down to my naval and the back is completely open, leaving me nearly bare to my ass. A series of small buttons then work down the back of the dress before it sweeps into a long trail.
“I don’t think we need to try on anymore,” The woman says on a whisper.
I shake my head, agreeing with her.
“Let’s go show your friend!”
At this point, it didn’t matter who I’m marrying, this dress is stunning.
“Oh shit!” Willow gasps, standing abruptly, “Oli you look…”
I blink as I turn to the bigger mirror to get the full picture, the one in the fitting room didn’t do this dress enough justice.
The material is snow white but almost pearlescent, a shine to it that throws off hues of pink and purples and it fits like a glove. I’m still staring when the woman starts pulling at my hair, clipping it back to show off my shoulders and long neck, drawing attention to the bare skin of my chest.
“It’s a dress that doesn’t need any jewelry,” She tells me, “Maybe a pretty pearl clip to tie up your hair, did you want to try a veil?”
“No veil.” I shake my head.
“Do you want to try on more?”
“No,” I tell her. “This is the one.”
“I just can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow” Willow breathes, blowing at her coffee before she takes a sip. Dennis hadn’t argued when I’d asked if we could go for coffee since the dress fitting barely took any time at all. The dress was being shipped to Malakai’s house this afternoon, along with the shoes and accessories I’d chosen to match.
“You’ll be there, right?” I panic, leaning forward as I feel my eyes go round.
“Well obviously,” She scoffs, “The invitation was attached to the message I got about the dress fitting. I’m your bridesmaid.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” She shrugs, “I didn’t say no since I knew you would have asked me anyway.”
That’s true. I guess I could give Malakai a little grace, I didn’t want this wedding but at least he’s making the day a little better for me by allowing my best friend to be with me. I wonder if he’s invited my sister too though it’s unlikely, considering the history.
“Do you have a dress?” I ask.
“Mm,” she nods, sinking back into the chair, “Blue.”
“Well okay, I guess,” I look towards Dennis who stands outside, leaning casually against the car but he’s watching us, like a goddamn guard dog. He’s barely said two words all day and just stands there and scowls like the world has wronged him.
“So, what’s it like?” She asks, “What’s he like?”
I drag my eyes to my best friend, “I hate him.”
She chokes on a mouthful of coffee, sputtering the liquid all over the table, “What!?”
“I hate him.” I repeat. “Like hate him.”
“Shit, Oli!” She rapidly shakes her head, “Do we need to like, buy plane tickets or something?”
I shake my head. Even if I did, he’d find me, I’m sure.
“No, but it’s okay,” I nod, more to myself, “Everything will be fine. After tomorrow I’m just going to actively avoid him.” And make his life hell. But I leave that part to myself.
“That’s not a marriage,” She grimaces.
“It’s an arranged marriage. It’s a farce anyway.”
“You always dreamed about finding love,” She pouts, “I remember that journal! The one where you planned your wedding day when you were twelve!”
“That was when I believed in fairytales,” I laugh. “We live in the real world.”
She rolls her eyes, “You know what I mean. You can’t see this going anywhere? At all?”
“With Malakai Farrow?” I laugh at how ridiculous that would be. Me and him? Absolutely not. I’d rather swallow glass than ever give that man the time of day. Not only did he manipulate me into agreeing to this marriage, using blackmail and threats as his weapons, he’s a dangerous man. One that kills for fun. He owns a whole damn business designed for people exactly like him. He’s terrifying. Brutal.
“If a day comes when I tell you I have feelings for him, put me out my misery. I will never,” I meet her eyes, showing her how serious I am, “Never, fall in love with him.”