Chapter 19
DANI
My family home has been transformed into a breathtaking wedding venue. I feel a little sadness as I stare at the gardens where I played as a young girl.
Not once did I ever envisage in my future, being married to a stranger, a man I barely know.
But Dexter isn’t so bad. I feel something for him, but I’m not sure what. I try not to dwell on our moments together. Try hard not to think too much about that evening at the Bluebell Manhattan, or how we laughed and kissed in front of Raquel.
A few of my friends and cousins are here, fussing over me, smoothing down my dress, giggling and fawning over me. Telling me yet again how quick this is, how I’ve taken them all by surprise.
I hate the lying. Keeping up this charade is going to sap all of my energy, and the day hasn’t even begun. I wonder if I’ll survive this one year of married life. The thought of being Dexter Knight’s wife sends shockwaves through me, even though I should be used to that idea by now.
Feeling a flurry of movement, I turn to find Raquel marching towards me. My heart blooms at the sight of her. She’s been by my side ever since she flew in late last night, after the Knights left.
She helped me get dressed, and now she’s standing before me, her mouth wide open. “Oh my! What a vision. I’ll never forget you like this, Dani.”
She smooths down my veil. “I don’t want to mess up anything. You look so beautiful!” Tears well up in her eyes as she clasps a hand to her chest, just like Papai and M?e did when they first saw me. They were both on the verge of tears, and it splintered my heart to see them like that, knowing this is fake, and empty and hollow.
We hug again, more like I put my arms around her and cling to her tightly.
“Hey,” she whispers when we pull apart. She’s still holding my arms. “What is it?”
“Nerves,” I whisper, remembering that the facade must be the strongest around my friend. Raquel is such a champion of justice and truth. She’s a good person, fighting all the bad things in the world. Corruption and greed. She and Paul Knight would hate each other.
I wonder how she and Rio will react when they meet today.
“Just nerves?” she asks, the bloodhound in her coming out.
“I’m happy,” I insist, more to convince her than anything else. “Dexter is such a wonderful man. He will take good care of me.”
Raquel looks at me like I’m an alien. Those words sounded alien to me. I’m rambling in my nervousness.
“You don’t need him to take good care of you, Dani, you can do that yourself.” She assesses me like she’s trying to figure out what the hell is really going on.
If I’m not careful, my emotions will get the better of me. As it is, my stomach feels weird. A dizzying sensation has been floating inside me all morning. I can’t back out now. Papai needs me to go through with this.
I keep reminding myself that Dexter isn’t that bad. He’s not Oscar Ramos. If I hold that thought when I start to falter, it will always tether me back to the reason I’m doing this. Marrying a man who is nothing like Ramos.
“He’s a good man.”
Raquel’s brows push together. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself? What is going on, Dani?”
“Nerves. Just nerves.” I need to keep my mouth shut. “Has Rio seen you yet?” I ask, trying to deflect.
There’s a knock at the door, and one of my cousin’s pokes her head in. “Are you ready?”
I take a deep breath and walk out to find my father, looking proud and distinguished and so incredibly happy. I take his arm, and immediately feel uplifted. We’re getting married outside and it’s the middle of summer here. Quite the opposite to New York. The buzz of cicadas fills the air, and the scent of tropical flowers wafts all around me.
I force myself to focus on my surroundings, and not my idle thoughts. White roses and orchids surround me, their delicate scent thick in the warm S?o Paulo air. The music swells as we step onto a long stone pathway, lined with candles and petals, which leads to an elaborate floral arch—the place where my fate will be sealed.
My heart hammers. Every step forward is a step toward an uncertain future but I refuse to walk into it blindly. I tell myself this is just about helping my father’s company.
Rows of ivory colored silk chairs adorned with strips of golden organza are arranged with perfect symmetry. Brazilian high society, CEOs and businesspeople, and, of course, the Knights are all sitting. The Knights are in the front two rows, and on the other side, my family, immediate and extended.
The divide feels palpable. The Oliveiras are smiling, and warm and exuberant as they look at me with pride and admiration in their eyes. The Knights seem cold in comparison, rigid, and with somber expressions.
Only Cari and Brooke are smiling. Cari’s wide smile warms my heart, and Brooke waves at me. I chuckle and nod at her.
The entire event is an illusion, but the few faces that are genuine and hopeful and happy, lift my spirits, and right now, I’ll take any little lift I can get. I try to convince myself this is more than just an alliance. I know what people say about arranged marriages; that they’re nothing more than business transactions, a cold exchange of power and wealth.
Maybe that’s what this started as. But to me, I feel like it could be more. Dexter doesn’t love me, nor I him, but we can be friends, and we get on. We genuinely care for one another.
We can get through this in a civil manner. I feel he likes me more than he cares to admit. I care about him. I see the wounded man, and where others might see his cockiness, I see it as a front for the deeper hurt and guilt he’s carrying.
I lift my gaze to find him standing at the altar looking stunning in a perfectly tailored outfit. The fabric clings to his broad shoulders, the crisp white of his shirt stark against the dark suit. His hands are loosely clasped in front of him. His expression? Unreadable. He doesn’t look happy.
But he doesn’t look devastated, either. He just looks like a man playing his part. I want so badly to believe this isn’t just an act, that it isn’t just a deal. That at some point, Dexter and I might be more.
But then his gaze catches mine and something flickers in his eyes. Not regret. Not reluctance.
Amusement.
Arrogant, lazy amusement.
Like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, and he’s enjoying the game he’s playing.
Not the wedding.
Not the moment.
A sharp ache spreads through my chest but I lift my chin. And I refuse to break.
***
DEX
I feel nothing.
That’s the lie I tell myself. Because something is going on, and I’m trying to push it away. I don’t believe in love, and if Daniela thinks she’s going to change that, she’s in for a rude awakening.
She’s doing this for business reasons, for money, for her father. For me, it isn’t about money. It never was. I’m doing this to piss Paul Knight off. To make him think he’s won, only to walk away before the year is up, leaving the deal in ruins.
I smile and remember that I’m playing the part of an adoring bridegroom. I stand at the altar, my posture relaxed, one hand casually tucked into my pocket. My brothers and father are in the first few row of seats, while Daniela’s family are on the other side. They’re a big family. She has no siblings, but she has so many cousins and aunts and uncles.
In comparison, we are so few. Rio winks at me, and I grin back at him, before quickly schooling myself to be somber again. Matteo is on his cell phone. Enzo looks around, calmly surveying the crowd. They know exactly what this is. A farce.
Jett is silent. Watching. Unreadable. He’s been here before, trapped in our father’s manipulations. He doesn’t want this for me. But he also knows I won’t listen to anyone. Beside him, Cari holds Brooke on her lap. Cari looks tense, like she can feel the weight of this for Daniela. Maybe because she’s experienced it for herself. She’s been where Daniela is, standing beside a Knight, hoping for something real.
Brooke watches with wide eyes, looking between Daniela and me, frowning, as if, even at her age, she can sense that something about this isn’t right.
Zach seems to be the only one who is genuinely smiling. As if he’s enjoying this. As if he thinks this is real. He leans over to whisper something to Cari, and she giggles. I’m curious to know what he said. He’s probably making a bet about whether Daniela will slap me before the night is over.
My gaze returns to Rio again. I need to know he’s okay with this, now that this is the moment where it’s all happening. He looks too still, too pensive almost as if he might be thinking that he could have been up here, marrying Daniela instead of me. A prick of guilt stabs me, but then I see him looking around. And I see who he’s looking at.
There, in the first row, is Daniela’s friend. The one in the bar. The one Rio was flirting with. The corporate lawyer with the big red lips.
I let out a sigh of relief.
Rio and I are good. He’s not sitting there wondering about Daniela. The man has moved on. He’s on a chase. Going after Raquel, I’m sure of it. But, if I’m being truthful, it’s not only that I was worried about hurting Rio, but something like jealousy prickled along my spine at the thought of him lusting after my wife. My pretend wife, sure. But still … I didn’t like it.
Our father sits upright. His back ramrod straight. His gaze directly in front, stone-faced, emotionless. I wonder what machinations are going through his head? What he’s thinking. What sort of a deal he’s struck. I’m about to play along with his demands and then I’ll turn the game on him.
This is his victory. I’m doing what I’m told. Marrying the girl. Securing the business deal. He doesn’t realize I’m already planning to destroy it all.
And yet … when Daniela comes into my line of vision, something in my chest tightens. She looks beautiful. Too beautiful for words. The kind of beautiful that tempts a man to forget his own rules.
But I won’t.
Not now.
Not ever.
Because I’m not Jett.
I’m not going to be a fool for a woman.
My lips turn up at the corners instinctively, and I break out into a genuine smile, because … because this could be real , a voice in my head says.
Sometimes when I wake up, it feels real. Until I remember.
Daniela looks stunning, and that dress hugs her every curve. She’s smiling at me, not a wide smile, but a smile that needs reciprocity, a sending-out-feelers smile, as if she’s trying to gauge my thoughts.
That’s when it comes flooding back in vivid color. The kiss. Something that was supposed to be flirty and fleeting, but it set my soul on fire.
Who am I kidding?
I haven’t been able to get Daniela out of my head since that night.
But I remind myself that this is just an arrangement. One that Daniela instigated.