Chapter thirty-four
Rylee
The bride.
M y reflection stares back from the mirror as I sit in the softly lit room. Hair and makeup are done, and the dress hangs behind me, waiting. The moment I tried it on, there was no doubt—it was the one. The off-the-shoulder neckline, the lace sleeves. It fits like it was designed specifically for me.
The corset hugged my curves flawlessly, flowing into a soft skirt, and a bold slit with a sheer lace underneath. It was tailored perfectly for my height, which most dresses fail to do. It’s beautiful, too beautiful. The kind of dress I’d never let myself dream of wearing.
One of BCAK’s finest designs, though the designer chose to remain anonymous. My fingers tremble slightly as I reach for the champagne glass Mia hands me.
“This is really happening,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. A bride. That’s who I’m supposed to be today. Yet, my chest tightens as reality sets in. This isn’t a happily ever after—it’s an arrangement, a contract, a facade. And the one person I truly wanted here isn’t.
The ache deepens as memories of pleading with my mother surface. I begged her, but as always, she refused. Luna should be here.
“Nervous?” Mia’s voice breaks through the spiral, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder.
“A little,” I admit, taking a small sip of the champagne.
“Don’t be,” Sophie cuts in from across the room. Her bubbly energy fills the space as she fluffs the veil. “My brother is head over heels for you. I’ve never seen him like this. Last time I checked on him, he was pacing like a madman. Pretty sure he’s more nervous than you are.”
Her words should be comforting, but they twist something inside me instead. A small part of me wants to believe her, to hold on to the fantasy, but I know better. Luc is just incredibly good at pretending. He plays the I’m in love with you act so convincingly my heart stupidly buys into it sometimes.
The dinner at his parents’ house replays in my mind—the way he spoke about us, the way he claimed he fell in love with me that summer. For a fleeting moment, I believed him. And then, there was the conversation in the hallway. “There’s no one else, only you.” What did he even mean by that?
A knock at the door startles all of us, pulling me away from my spiraling thoughts.
“Come in,” Mia calls, setting her glass down. She presses a hand to my shoulder. “You’ve got this.”
“You’re not supposed to be here!” Sophie says.
I turn, my breath catching in my throat.
Luc .
He stands in the doorway, looking devastatingly handsome in his tailored suit. His curls fall loosely around his shoulders. He usually ties them back unless he’s at home, but I love them like this.
Our eyes meet, locking for a few lingering seconds before he clears his throat.
“What are you doing here?” I stand from the chair.
He smiles, that lopsided grin that always manages to disarm me. “I have a surprise for you.”
A surprise? My mind races. What could it possibly be?
He steps aside, and then I see her.
“Hi,” she says softly.
I freeze, my gaze darting between Luc and the girl standing beside him.
“I don’t think she’s breathing,” Luna whispers to Luc with a small laugh.
“Luna,” I manage to say, my voice breaking on her name.
“Hi, sis,” she says again, a small smile tugging at her lips.
I open my arms, and she runs into them. The moment we collide, it’s like the world steadies itself. Everything else falls away. The weight in my chest lifts, replaced by something warmer, lighter. Relief floods through me as I cling to her, my head dipping to her shoulder.
Peeking over Luna’s shoulder, my eyes find Luc, who’s leaning against the doorframe, watching us with a quiet, almost tender smile.
“How? How are you here?” The questions tumble out when I finally pull back, taking her face in my hands.
“Luc flew me here on his private plane,” Luna says with a big grin.
Shock mixed with gratitude hit me all at once. I glance at Luc again, who remains quiet, his expression unreadable. He told me he had a business meeting and had to leave for a couple of days. Honestly, I was a little upset he left in the middle of wedding preparation, but itt turns out he was planning this.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I did,” he says simply.
I pull Luna into another hug, holding her tightly. When I look back at Luc, he’s still standing there, his gaze soft yet steady. Before I realize what I’m doing, my feet move on their own, drawing me closer to him, and closing the space between us.
I stop less than an inch from him; my heart beats so loudly it drowns out everything else. “Thank you,” I say, barely above a whisper, but I know he hears me.
He straightens, pushing away from the doorframe before he leans down, placing the softest kiss on my forehead. The gesture is so simple, yet it completely undoes me. Something suspiciously like butterflies flutters in my stomach.
“I’ll be waiting for you up there.” His deep voice curls around me in a quiet whisper that only meant just for me.
“Okay,” I manage to say, my lips curling into a small, unsteady smile despite the storm of emotions crashing through me.
Luc steps back, his fingers brushing mine so lightly it sends a shiver up my arm. I stand there, breathless, confused, and scared. Lucien Kingley, a man who exudes control, power, and charm. He’s also the man who holds the power to destroy me completely. I knew it then, and I know it even more now.
But when I turn and see my sister, her face lights up with happiness; everything inside me settles for just a moment. I would let myself shatter into a million pieces if it meant she’d be okay.
I’m doing this for her.
“You two are disgustingly cute in the most nauseating way,” Mia teases from across the room, her grin wickedly playful.
Touché.
“I’ve been waiting for the day I could tease you back for all the times you’ve tormented me and Jake.” She laughs, the sound as infectious as always. Except this isn’t like her and Jake. Not even close.
“Come on, let’s get you ready, girl. Your man is waiting,” she adds, motioning for me to move from where I’m frozen by the door.
“Okay,” I say with a soft laugh, letting her energy pull me into the moment.
Sophie steps in to fix my makeup with the precision of a surgeon, while Mia and my sister help me into my dress. I sit quietly as Mia adjusts my veil.
When I finally stand in front of the full-length mirror, the air catches in my throat. The woman staring back doesn’t look like me. The delicate lace of the veil cascades down my back like falling snow, and the dress hugs my frame in a way that feels almost magical. It’s perfect.
Mia’s eyes glisten, and she sniffs, trying to play it off. “I’m not crying.” We all know she’s lying.
“You’re beautiful.” My sister grins at me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my chest clenching as I glance back at her. If only she knew this is all for her. Marrying Luc, sacrificing my heart—it’s all for her. Maybe my actions can break that ridiculous curse my family has carried, and she can at least get her happily ever after. Even if I don’t.
Last time I left Paris, I saw a psychic. I just needed to know if the curse was real or some cruel, twisted family myth. I’d asked her if there was any way to break it, or if there was even a tiny chance Luc could fall in love with me.
She told me a story about how we’d been cursed a hundred years ago because my great-grandmother wasn’t brave enough to choose the man she loved. She married someone else, breaking not only her lover’s heart but her own. The only way to lift the curse, the psychic said, is for the original soulmates to find each other again. Whatever the hell that meant.
How does someone find their soulmate? Do I post it online? Hi, I’m looking for my soulmate. If you think it’s you, please contact me.
In other words, we’re fucked. A knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts.
“I swear, if that’s Luc again, I’ll shove him away myself,” Sophie huffs, already heading to the door. “He can’t see you in your dress—it’s bad luck!”
She opens it, her posture shifting immediately. “Hi, Mom,” she says in French.
I turn, catching Mrs. Kingley as she steps inside. Her eyes widen as she looks at me with a soft expression.
“Wow,” she breathes, taking a step closer. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say, offering her a small smile.
“Ready?” she asks gently.
I glance back at the mirror one last time, taking in the woman I hardly recognize. This is it—the closest I’ll ever get to a fairy tale. Today, I can pretend this is my happily ever after, that I’m marrying the love of my life.
Tomorrow, reality will sting. But someday, when I’m old, gray, and alone, I’ll look back on this moment and hold onto that feeling.
“I’m ready,” I say softly, summoning a smile as I turn away from the mirror. Even if my heart is not.