Chapter 35
Sophia
The Aisle
When I was little, I never dreamed of what my wedding could be like because I already knew.
I knew who the groom would be. You’d find him down the hall in another room, getting ready under Riyan’s watch.
I knew where it would be. Cathedral Santuario de Guadalupe was the oldest cathedral in Dallas, yet had never sounded so empty.
I knew I’d be in a white dress to symbolize my purity.
The marks on my skin that Kora told me to conceal with makeup reminded me I was anything but pure.
“Straighten your shoulders,” Kora ordered as she laced up the bodice of my dress. “You were supposed to lose more weight to fit this.”
“The wedding was supposed to be in a few weeks,” I said robotically.
She spun me around and slapped me across the cheek. That was the first time she’d ever hit me, but I guessed the facade had slipped too far to be brought back up now. I pressed my palm to my cheek, easing the sting as she went back to lacing up my gown.
“You should know by now when to close your mouth,” Kora muttered, like it was my fault she had to slap me. “My brother clearly needed more time with you.”
She knew.
I glared at her through the mirror as my hand slipped down my cheek, touching a faint bruise along my neck. “Your brother is a rapist,” I replied. “He raped me.”
“He gave you what you wanted, and now it's your turn to return the favor.” Her blunt words struck me then. Kora had always been fiercely by her brother’s side, and now was no different.
“What do you even gain from this?” I asked, blinking back the tears that gathered along my lower lids. “You don’t have to cover for him.”
The shred of hope I held for Kora to help me crashed to the ground as she let out a cold laugh. “You have the world’s most powerful men all around you, willing to do so much for you, and why? Because you’re a Pierson, Sophia.”
“I-I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t.” Her dark eyes rolled in the reflection. “You were born a Pierson. But not everyone here was, and not everyone is entitled to what being born into the name grants you.”
The thick makeup covering the darkness under my eyes cracked as I looked at Kora like it was the first time. “You never loved my dad, did you?”
“Of course not, Sophia. Your father was simply a means to get to you.” She tsked at the confusion clear as day on my face.
She spun me around and grabbed my shoulders.
“I knew your father couldn’t have any more children when I married him, and I was okay with that.
Especially when I saw the way you looked at my brother. ”
My lips twisted into disgust, my stomach roiling with the thought. “You…you wanted him to do what he did to me so you could be blood-related to a Pierson?”
She touched the tip of my nose. “Now you’re getting closer.
Come.” She walked over to a large vanity desk and directed me to sit in the chair as she held a brush.
My feet moved on autopilot. I wanted to smother her face with a pillow, but I also wanted to hear what her messed up mind was leading her to do.
It wouldn’t help with what was going on, but maybe it could distract me before the ceremony that tied my life to one I feared—one that wasn’t mine at all.
Kora delicately scooped up my straightened hair, dragging the brush slowly down the strands.
“There is only one way women have any power when we reach a certain social standing. If we control the men we are with, then we are the true ones in power.” Her brow arched and the brush snagged on a knot.
She ripped the brush through, searing my scalp so hard, it was a fight not to grimace.
My pain would be her satisfaction, just like her brother’s, I was sure of it. “I never controlled your father, dear.”
“You’re married to him,” I said. “Surely, that is enough.”
“No, no. It wasn’t.” She finished brushing another section, then reached for the expensive jewels laid out on the vanity. Deciding between two necklaces by holding them up to my eyes, she finally settled on one. “Your father was always controlled by you, Sophia.”
I thought back to when my father found me working in the restaurant in Georgia and the arguments that always ensued when we had a mild disagreement. I loved my father, but he wanted a life for me that I didn’t, and it drove me mad.
I shook my head. “I have no sway over him. Not like you.”
“You really are a dense one, aren’t you?
” I had yet to see my father since I’d been here, and with the way she was talking about him so candidly, a shred of doubt crept into my brain.
Where is he? “He has the entire company set to go to you. Wealth and power beyond what you’re capable of handling, all in your incapable hands once he retires.
Marrying into additional money and power was going to secure your line for generations, and as the Pierson tradition goes, all Pierson children carry on the name. ”
It was no secret the Pierson line was through my mother’s side.
My father was no different than Walton in the sense that both came from families tied to old money, only he’d fallen hard for my mother.
They both did. I could see it in his eyes whenever he spoke about her.
Even after she died, every picture of her remained up in our family estate, her clothing still hanging up in their closet.
Kora wasn’t allowed to touch the photos or her old things, and I imagined she always hated that.
But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps she never cared about my father and it had always been about the money, like she’d said.
I swallowed, taking in everything she was saying.
“You get nothing if you’re not with my father.
But I can give you that if your brother and I…
if we have a child.” Her head tilted, her hand waving in circles in the mirror because I was missing something.
She wanted me to go on. But the only thing I could think of was…
was too cruel. But it made sense. Kora was away for long periods of time, and it wasn’t too far out there to think the rare chance of my father producing another heir would actually happen.
“Riyan would give our child to you as your own?” Kora’s smile made goosebumps flood over my arms. “You’d fake it being yours. ”
“Bingo.”
Kora dropped the necklace she was holding as I stood and spun to face her. “You’re sick,” I spat, clutching a hand over my stomach. I might hate Riyan, but if that was my future—if watching her take what was mine from me…
No.
The door opened, and both Kora and I watched as Riyan stepped through. I started backing up as his eyes lingered over me. “Princess. It’s a shame it isn’t our wedding you’re all dolled up for.”
“Fuck you,” I said through gritted teeth. “You”—my back hit the wall of the small room in the cathedral—“You can’t let her do this.”
“Ah.” Riyan glanced between his sister and I. “She told you.”
“How could you?”
He stepped forward and I screamed until he rushed into me, covering my mouth while fighting me to the floor. He shouted as I sank my teeth into his palm and thrashed on the floor, kicking for where it mattered most. By the third kick, I’d gotten it right.
“Bitch!” he shouted as I fought my way up and ran through the door. The open space of the cathedral took me aback, rows upon rows of empty pews, except for the very last one toward the front. My heart leapt into my chest as I gathered my dress and bolted.
“Dad!” I cried, uncaring if anyone else that I couldn’t see was around.
I was done hiding. Pretending. There would be no more.
“Dad!” I hollered again just before I tripped and stumbled to the ground.
Pain shot up through my ankle, but I fought my way toward the front, crawling in a dress that barely allowed for the type of movement. “Dad, please! Help!”
Fear drove me closer, but I stopped as the man I’d thought was my dad stepped into the aisle. “Miss?”
“You, sit back down,” Riyan ordered, pointing toward the man.
I tried crawling faster, my grunts and attempts making him laugh as he walked up behind me.
I knew what was coming before it did. My scalp burned, my ankle doing no better as he pulled me up by my straightened hair. I screamed from the agony.
“You. Fucking. Bitch,” Riyan said into my ear before kicking the back of my legs, sending me back down to the ground on my knees. The tears were so thick over my eyes that I couldn’t see when he reached for me again, this time by my wrist. “Get up.”
“Hey!” a familiar voice sounded from behind us.
Riyan groaned at the voice. “Finally. Let’s get this shit done with, shall we?”
Walton rushed up to my side. “Take my arm,” he said, giving me a smile that was unfamiliar. Almost like one he would have given me when we were just kids and everything was less complicated. “Please, Soph.”
I struggled to support myself as Riyan dropped his arm. Walton caught me and glared up at Riyan. “I’ll get her there.”
“She can do it herself for all I fucking care. Won’t be using her legs tonight, anyway.”
The slightest work of Walton’s jaw surprised me. And the way he fixed me to lean on him as we walked down the rest of the aisle made me want to pinch myself.
Was this a dream?
“Keep your head forward,” he murmured. “I’m only trying to help you.”
“I’m not gettin’ why,” I answered back, keeping my voice low.
For a moment, I thought he’d scold me on improper speech. Instead, he said, “I was told to call you Peach for him.”
The way my veins warmed at the name. I nearly tripped over my own heart. “W-what did you just call me?”
“Peach,” Walton replied, then sighed. “I was not the best fiancé to you, but I can try to be a better friend. We were that to each other once, were we not?”
I whimpered as his hold on me slipped, and a sharp pain shot up my ankle. Walton looked down toward my feet with concern. “I think I…I think it’s broken.”
He gave a subtle nod. “Lean on me some more. I can handle it. Only a few more steps, and this will all be over soon.”
“Is he comin’ here?” A lick of fear ran up my back as I glanced behind me, taking in the scowling man who had brutal plans for my future.
“Don’t look back,” Walton urged, forcing my attention toward the back of the cathedral again. “Don’t give anything away. They have Hailey, too.”
My heart dipped at his admission. The softness in his voice. Hailey wasn’t just his assistant. He loved her, like I loved Grant.
“What do I need to do?” I asked hurriedly as we approached the steps.
“Stay calm,” Walton said, giving me another odd, faint smile. “It will be okay.” He squeezed my hand as he helped me up the steps. It was new to rely on Walton like this, but it was better than trusting my future was about to blow up.
The officiant whom I thought was my father from behind came to stand before us as we stood facing each other, Walton holding my hands in each of his.
“Dearly beloved,” he started, and then all hell broke loose.