Chapter Seven
The wedding came upon them quite quickly, and Alex did not think Verity was as appreciative of all he was doing for her as she ought to be.
Not only was this a spectacular affair, not only was her name being plastered across the headlines in only glowing terms, but he had done a Herculean job of reining in his attraction to her.
He paused in his room, looking at himself in the mirror, clothed in the tuxedo he would be wearing to the wedding in less than an hour.
Verity was beautiful. He had been conscious of that from the moment he’d hired her.
The way he was affected by her beauty had been different.
At least initially. There was something young and fresh about her that he had responded to that first day.
Something that made him want to protect her.
Her beauty—he had told himself—had been something like a lovely figurine he wanted to collect.
Being with her outside of the office—confronting the idea that she might go on a date with someone else—had been taking that figurine and making her flesh and blood.
And then it was difficult to avoid the truth that they could only ever see her that way as long as no one else was touching her. As long as he wasn’t touching her.
When they had danced at the rooftop bar, he had been so close to taking her in his arms and claiming her. But it wouldn’t have stopped at a kiss. He knew that. All too well.
So he had not kissed her. He had turned away from the moment, as he must. All of their outings had since then been confined to holding hands. And she seemed...subdued. Not quite herself.
Almost as if she was angry at him, and yet she never showed such an emotion.
Not his cricket. She seemed as placid and smooth as ever, like the surface of a lake, and the harder he stared, the more he could only see himself looking back. Perversely, it made him more attracted to her. It made him want to create a reaction in her.
He did not.
He was her boss. And while he felt no guilt over using her for this particular endeavor, he was aware of the complexity of it. She had very little choice in the matter. Taking advantage of her physically on top of it would be reprehensible.
He cared about that. He always had. Perhaps because so much of his life had been determined by the whims and failures of other people.
He hadn’t lied to her when he’d said that he understood the way that human connection worked.
He understood all too well. When other people had control over you they could make your life as wonderful or miserable as they wanted to make it.
When you had nothing, it gave every meal, every night’s rest, every breath a greater weight.
And often, you had to observe the rules of a game in order to ensure you would continue to have those things.
It was one reason getting as far away as he could from that state was so important to him.
But he would never, ever intentionally put someone else in that position.
And in some ways, he had with Verity. He had changed the rules of the job.
And the outcome was that he would give her financial freedom, but he had flexed his power over her in a way that he was not proud of.
He wasn’t redirecting either.
The wedding was today, and it was going ahead.
The one thing he couldn’t do was cross that physical line.
Not and live with himself.
He opted to walk to the ruin where they would be getting married. It was a long walk, but he was in need of some time to clear his head. To gain control over his desires. He was on the cusp of getting what he wanted professionally; why images of Verity should dominate his thoughts was beyond him.
When he arrived at the outskirts of the venue, he looked up and stopped.
There she was, sitting in the window on the third floor, her long blond hair blowing in the wind.
She was wearing a robe of some kind, and was staring out pensively.
She was like a medieval maiden, the sort that knights wrote poetry about. Untouchable and glorious.
His chest felt sore. His heart was beating faster.
An old feeling swept through him on the wind.
This feeling of wanting without being able to have.
It wasn’t nostalgia. Not in the way people spoke about it.
Not like Christmas as a child. He resented it.
Hated it. He was never supposed to want what he couldn’t have again.
And here he was, standing three floors below his assistant with his heart nearly beating out of his chest.
She wished that when she saw him it didn’t make her heart almost explode. But if she could have her way where Alex was concerned, she would be in an entirely different situation right now.
She had opted to have no one help her get ready today.
She was putting it off, sitting at the edge of the window and looking down at the glorious view.
And that was when he had appeared, like this was some kind of fairy tale and she could let down her hair and he could climb up and.
.. Rescue her? From what? Himself? That was unlikely.
She pretended she didn’t see him, or at least she didn’t acknowledge his presence before standing up and turning away.
She took her robe off and stared at herself in the full-length mirror.
The underwear that had been chosen for her to go with the wedding dress was.
.. beautiful and definitely designed for someone to see them.
A strapless corset made of white lace and a white lace thong that barely covered anything at all.
Of course, no one would be seeing these.
She told herself that didn’t make her ache with regret.
She told herself that she could run away if she wanted to.
That she didn’t have to go through with this.
And then she told herself it really wasn’t that big of a deal.
It was just a ceremony. She wouldn’t even know anyone here.
It would be media and potential investors, and all of Alex’s colleagues.
Hers too, of course, but they weren’t really hers.
In the sense that of course their real loyalty was to the man who wrote their paychecks, and not to her.
But that should make everything easier. This was all part of a life she would leave behind.
She had thought things would go differently.
She had thought this would be the place where she would settle in, make space for herself.
But it wasn’t going to be. And that was fine. She didn’t care about marriage.
She told herself that repeatedly as she put her dress on. As she scrunched and then fluffed her curls, as she put her minimal makeup on and picked up the glorious bouquet of pale pink roses that were sitting there waiting for her.
She didn’t have any bridesmaids. Just as Alex didn’t have any groomsmen.
Did anything speak more profoundly about the two of them than that?
She took a breath, and looked at her reflection one last time before she turned away and began to walk for the door.
The place they were getting married at was glorious.
And if she was ever going to plan a wedding, it probably would have looked like this.
She giggled. To no one, and really nothing, but it was silly to think she would have ever been able to have a wedding like this without Alex.
Was she already getting used to the things that came with being attached to a billionaire?
Financially, her family had always been comfortable enough. Not wealthy, but they’d had stability externally. A nice enough house on a nice enough street. It was only inside that things had been rotten. Still, a fabulous wedding at a glorious Grecian ruin would have been beyond them.
But if it was just a fantasy, and she could have whatever she could dream of, she would have dreamed of this.
The facility she’d gotten ready in was essentially a castle, the winding staircase leading down to a courtyard that had once been a library.
Now it was half-crumbled walls and pillars, which had been decked in roses and lights, a grand arbor standing between two of the most intact pillars.
And she could see as she peered through the windows on her way down the spiraling staircase, that that courtyard was now filled with guests sitting in the golden chairs that had been set out in the vast space.
She was making false vows in front of strangers.
And maybe the Greek gods. But they would enjoy the farce, honestly.
So she didn’t need to worry about that either.
Surely Zeus could appreciate marital shenanigans.
She swallowed hard. This was the best decision. It was.
When she arrived down at the base of the staircase the doors parted for her, and the sun shone upon her. Like a sign from above. So she pressed forward, out into the gloriously beautiful day, and toward her husband.
Music played by a string quartet filtered around her, the same song they had danced to at the rooftop bar, but surely that was a coincidence.
Her heart began to beat faster. She could see him now, standing there at the head of the altar looking resplendent in that black tuxedo.
Her glimpse of him out the window from that distance hadn’t given her the full story of all that glory.
She was drawn to him, and this no longer felt fake.
A smile spread across her face, and she wished that she could stop it. She couldn’t. And then, just as she got to the end of the aisle, she turned, and saw her mother.
Next to her was Verity’s father. Her brother was next to him, and right beside her brother was her sister.
And suddenly everything stopped. Her heart, the world, that strange sensation of joy that had made her feel like everything was going to be okay. And suddenly, it felt like there were eggshells beneath her feet, like every step risked breaking something essential.
She didn’t want to look at them. She kept on looking at Alex. She knew that she looked affected. There was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t speak. And when they joined hands at the altar, his were like fire.
Or perhaps her own had turned to ice.