Chapter 3 Stella
STELLA
I stare at the girl in the mirror wearing that beautiful bride’s gown covered in glitter. Her skin and her cheeks are lathered in rouge to hide the mark left by a man’s hand. All of this is a mask to hide the terror within.
I suck in a breath and try to hold it together so I don’t ruin my mascara with tears.
I will not cry for this man. I will not fucking cry for this man.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Ma’am, it’s time to go,” the maid says.
Time slipped by so quickly, I didn’t even notice.
“I’m coming,” I reply.
Sucking in another breath, I take my final glance at the girl I used to be, then turn around. I’m walking straight into the claws of death; a wedding where I’m the bride and my husband will be a soulless killer who only wants me as payment for a debt.
I open the door, and the maid smiles at me like there’s something to be happy about. “You look gorgeous, ma’am.”
I smile back. “Thank you.”
It’s nothing but empty words from an empty heart.
We go downstairs, where an entire entourage waits for us. Family, friends, I don’t actually know. I’ve never seen any of these people before.
As long as they’re tied to Lucio, they could be dead to me for all I care.
Lucio throws me a fake, lopsided smile from the bottom of the stairs as I walk down the steps in my high heels. He takes my arm and leans in to whisper, “If you say one bad word to these people, I will ruin your first night and many more to come.”
My body shivers at the thought of this man putting his hands on me.
He whisks me out of the house right into his limo. It’s nothing more than an expensive prison, just like my room.
Will I ever see the outside world again without his supervision?
We drive off for God knows how long to God knows where.
But if I know anything about Lucio, he’ll make a proper scene out of this marriage that neither of us wants.
He’s not actually interested in making me his wife …
he just wants what my family has, the infinite wealth hidden by my stubborn father.
There was nothing else I could give him as a promise of payment for the money I borrowed from him … except my hand in marriage.
The car ride seems to last forever. Or maybe that’s just because adrenaline continuously pounds through my veins, tensing me up beneath this corset.
God, I can hardly breathe. He dressed me up like a doll, and my boobs nearly spill out of the dress.
He keeps looking at me, taking peeks as if he can’t wait to rip it all off my body, and the thought makes me physically ill.
I look out the window instead, but he immediately grabs my chin and reminds me of my place. “After today, you become my wife. You will do everything I tell you to.”
I jerk free from his grip. “I don’t care.”
“You say that now, but wait until your mother sees you.”
My eyes widen, and I hiss, “Don’t you bring my mother into this.”
“Don’t you know?” He tilts his head. “She’s going to be there to watch you walk down the aisle with me.”
Oh God.
I nearly puke right then and there.
Why did he invite her? Why does he force her to sit through this?
“You and I both know there’s only one thing I really want,” he says. “And that means you and I have to put on the greatest show of a lifetime.” He grabs my knee and squeezes. “So you’d best put on a good performance and pretend you actually like me.”
His fingers draw up my knee, closer to my thigh, and I wince at the thought of what he’s going to do to me after we’re married. I’ve managed to keep him from claiming me until now, but I doubt he’ll respect my denial after he’s put his grimy ring on my finger.
“We’re here,” he says, as the car comes to a stop.
How did we even get here so quickly? Did I lose track of time?
Lucio steps out of the car, leaving the driver and me all by ourselves. I stare out the window as a girl walks up to the car and opens my door.
“Are you ready for your big day? Let’s go inside,” she says with a nauseatingly cheery smile on her face.
She might be one of Lucio’s assistants, but I haven’t seen her before. Must be a new one, after the other one bailed … Or he killed her.
Chills run up and down my spine.
“Take her to her room,” Lucio tells the girl without even throwing me a single glance. “Prepare her. I want this thing ready to go in ten minutes, tops.”
Ten minutes.
His words reverberate over and over in my mind.
Ten minutes. That’s all the time I still have left of freedom before my heart and body are chained to the devil himself. Lucio doesn’t even look at me as he walks off somewhere, while the girl drags me with her, up the steps and into the venue.
We move through some hallways and into a room, and she shuts the door behind her with a key, as if he told her I’ll run if I get the chance. It’s true, I would, and Lucio probably knows damn well that is true too. He probably ordered her to keep me in check, just in case I tried anything.
I swallow away the lump in my throat as I spot the girl in the mirror. Me. The girl in this beautiful gown that she didn’t pick, at a wedding she doesn’t want to have, to get married to a man she would never even kiss if it was up to her.
“You look gorgeous, ma’am,” the girl says.
I ignore her. “Why are we here? I’m already dolled up.”
“Lucio just wants to make sure all the guests have arrived.”
He must be waiting for my mother. He wants her to see my demise.
The girl rakes her fingers through my hair. “Just to make sure it’s perfect. How do you feel?”
“Anxious,” I reply. “I’m about to get married to the only man I never wanted.”
She pauses and glances at me through the mirror. An awkward silence follows, which feels like it lasts an eternity.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, we’re not allowed to talk about that.”
Of course, Lucio instructed his staff well.
How much is she getting paid to watch another girl get married against her will to a sadist like him?
“I hope he pays you well and that the money is worth it,” I say.
She sighs and lets go of my hair. “I’ll go tell him you’re ready.”
“Yeah, you do that,” I sneer back.
She walks off and shuts the door behind her, and the lock clicks into place again.
I take in another breath and shake my shoulders to release the tightness. I didn’t mean to be angry and chase her off, but the thought of marrying that monster has me snappy as hell. And fuck me, this dress makes it so hard to breathe.
I waltz into the bathroom and open the faucet, using my hands to create a cup to drink some water and drive off this bludgeoning heat sweltering beneath this dress.
I lean up to glance at the girl in the mirror again, then fidget with my breasts to pull out the item that I took with me … the tracker Matteo haphazardly threw into the car during our escape from Club Triton.
Am I doing the right thing by bringing it to the wedding?
Maybe I should’ve thrown it into the trash before Lucio inevitably finds out.
Then again, this might be my only chance to save myself.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, and my muscles tense.
“It’s time.” That sounded like Bartolo.
My heart races in my throat, and I swiftly tuck the tracker back between my breasts.
He hasn’t opened the door yet, so without even thinking about it, I pick up the nearest object I can find: a candle. Maybe I can catch him off guard, hit him, and make a run for it. I have nothing else in this room that I can use as a weapon, but it might just be enough.
With the candle firmly clutched, I approach the door as it opens. I raise the candle, but Bartolo swiftly grabs hold of it and throws it to the floor.
He laughs. “Stupid girl. Come with me.”
He grabs my wrist and drags me through the hallway.
“Ow! Get your hands off me.” I jerk free of his grip.
“You should have thought about that before you tried to hit me,” he growls back.
“It was just a fucking candle,” I reply with a snooty voice.
He pushes me toward two giant doors in the back. “Go, he’s waiting for you. And don’t try anything or else.” He points his finger at his throat and slides it from left to right, and it makes me swallow hard.
The doors open, and a long walkway appears, embellished with millions and millions of roses. Fake gold lines the path and the chairs on which the guests are seated, waiting for me. All eyes are on me, and the sweat droplets are rolling down my back just from the sheer number of glares.
The girl I was snappy to pushes a bouquet into my hand.
“Just walk and smile,” she whispers. “Let them do the talking, you just say yes and wait for him to slip the ring on your finger.” She winks, like what’s about to happen is the most normal thing ever.
I tightly clutch the bouquet and walk down the aisle toward Lucio, and I can’t help the disdain from dripping off my face. He’s a monster, and my hand in marriage will never be enough for him. He doesn’t just want me. He’s after my family’s inheritance, and he’ll stop at nothing to get it.
Why, why did I ever borrow money from this scum?
Lucio stares at me from across the aisle, clutching a box in his tattooed hand that presumably holds our rings, and it makes me feel like the earth beneath my feet is crumbling.
In the front row, my mother eagerly stares at me with a gentle smile, and it infuriates me that she has to watch her daughter walk down the aisle toward an ill fate. She doesn’t even know why I’m being forced to marry him.
I wish I could hug her one last time and tell her I love her. I might never see her again even though she doesn’t know it yet. I never told her the truth about what I did for her.
She whispers from her seat, “You look gorgeous, honey.”
I have to stay strong for her, even if it’s hard as hell. My mom always dreamed that I would marry a handsome, rich man who would make me happy and give me everything I ever wanted. Instead, I’m becoming a trophy wife to a Mafia man whose only interest is my estranged father’s money.