Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
CIARA
The urge to throw up is overwhelming.
Pacing the stone steps outside the chapel, my mind is on all the people waiting for me to make my entrance, most of whom I won’t have any idea who they are.
But that won’t stop them from having their opinions of me, no doubt whispering about how desperate I am if I’m willingly marrying a Sullivan, marrying into the family who publicly ruined my own.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mutter under my breath.
I’m willingly betraying my father, and for what? Safety? Because my brother ordered me to?
My throat tightens at the thought.
The words Sullivan and safety don’t exactly go hand in hand. God only knows what will happen once today is over and Ronan finally gets his way.
I press a hand to my chest.
My heart beats frantically beneath my palm. I can’t catch my breath. But I can’t back out now. I gave up that option the moment I signed on the dotted line and agreed to be Ronan’s bride.
“Oh, God.” Bile starts to burn my throat.
“Ciara?”
Mila’s voice is soft, but it’s enough to break through my spiraling thoughts. She appears by my side in an instant, slipping her arm through mine and pulling me close.
“You okay?” Her dark brows pull together in a frown.
She looks amazing in her burnt orange dress, with her short hair tucked behind her ears. We’ve talked a few times over the years about how our wedding days would be, but never in my life did I think this would be my fate.
I force a smile, though I know she can see right through it.
“Define okay.” I tighten my grip on my bouquet of burnt orange, burgundy, and cream flowers.
Mila’s eyes soften as she wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You don’t have to do this.”
I lean into her warmth just for a second, before pulling back. “You know as well as I do that I do have to do it.”
I sigh as my eyes start to sting with tears.
“But is it what you want? Because if it isn’t, my car is right there.”
The offer is so tempting it hurts.
Her car is literally parked right across the street, and for a second, I consider it. What it would be like to run, alliances and politics be damned.
But then I remember what’s at stake and what I need to do in order to protect my family’s name.
My fate has been decided.
Besides, Ronan Sullivan would never let me walk away from a deal.
“What I want is irrelevant. This has to happen.”
Mila clearly doesn’t like my answer from the way her expression hardens, but she nods. That’s what makes her such a good friend. The fact that she can still show up to support me, even when she disagrees with my decision, means the world.
I take a deep breath as I climb back up the stone steps of the chapel and peek through the slight opening in the doors.
Soft classical music filters out, and I can see the backs of the heads of nearly three hundred guests. But not one of them captures my attention like Ronan does.
He’s standing at the altar like he owns the goddamn place, wearing a black suit that’s tailored to perfection. The strong lines of his face mixed with the broadness of his muscular frame send a wave of heat coursing through me as I let my eyes roam over him.
I hate how good he looks. How much he calls to me. It would be so much easier to marry him if he were ugly, or at least forgettable.
But no. Of course, the man who blew up my life has the audacity to be attractive.
Mila nudges me with her elbow. “You ready?”
I nod, even though I’m anything but ready.
My brother is waiting for me just inside the doorway. He’s wearing a fresh new suit, no doubt courtesy of Ronan, and his hair is slicked back and neat.
When he sees me, his expression remains tense and unreadable, and the knot in my stomach tightens even more.
He and I both know our father should be the one offering me his arm at this moment, but because of the family of the man I’m about to marry, he’s gone, and I’ll never get to share my wedding day with my father.
I cling to Callum’s arm, trying to breathe through the pain in my chest. I can’t let myself think of what should have been, because if I go there, I’ll fall apart, and that’s simply not an option. Not when three hundred people are waiting to watch me crumble.
But most of all, I can’t fall apart in front of him.
I grit my teeth as the music starts to play and I take my first step toward my future, trying not to think of the fact that if my father were still alive, I wouldn’t need to marry the man who destroyed him.
The ceremony is a blur of vows and rings and applause that sounds too rehearsed. I can barely even remember signing my name on the license, my hand trembling so much that I’m surprised it even counts.
But it’s done.
The gold wedding band around my ring finger feels heavy, and I can’t stop fiddling with it as I stand beside Ronan at the entrance to the ballroom where our reception is being held.
He wears a matching one on his finger, and I can still feel the rough texture of his skin as I slipped the ring onto it.
It was the only moment in the entire ceremony where it felt like we were the only two people in the room. Then I blinked, and it was over.
A never-ending line of guests filters through, offering their congratulations, though they’re mainly offered to Ronan. I don’t know why he’s insisting on me standing beside him when it’s obvious to everyone here that this marriage is nothing more than a business deal.
He seems at ease as he chats with the guests, shaking the hands of the men and kissing the women on the cheek. I scowl at the contact, mainly because the women’s eyes immediately light up as they cling to that sliver of attention he offers them.
If only they knew Ronan like I do, because they’d be anything but happy about him being so close.
As the guests talk with Ronan, I cast my gaze around the grand ballroom and sigh. The decorations are stunning. I can’t quite believe I didn’t have anything to do with this.
When I bought my wedding dress, I also picked out Mila’s, and somehow Ronan must have deciphered the color scheme I was hinting at, and he brought my secret vision to life. Or rather, he hired someone to bring it to life.
Huge autumnal arrangements of flowers are placed in the center of round tables, each decorated with gold plates and glasses.
The dark wood of the floor ties it all in perfectly, and the low lighting from the candles and chandeliers overhead creates an intimate atmosphere, despite the grandeur of the ballroom.
Everything about this room screams money, which is exactly what the Sullivans want, which automatically makes me want to hate every second I spend in here.
“Congratulations,” a man says, and I blink, turning my attention to the stranger standing before me. “So happy for you both.”
“You looked stunning walking down the aisle,” his wife offers, and I simply nod my head, too exhausted to plaster a polite smile on my face.
The woman looks a little put out by my lack of enthusiasm, but Ronan manages to commandeer the conversation, and the pair of them leave with smiles on their faces.
Before the next guests arrive, Ronan leans in close to me so that I catch a waft of his musky cologne.
“Wipe the scowl off your face,” he warns, his voice low. “You just got married. You’re supposed to look happy.”
I whip my head toward him, my temper flaring.
“Don’t tell me how to feel,” I hiss through my teeth.
“I’m not. I’m just reminding you how appearances work, and that you’re meant to keep up your end of the bargain.”
I twist the gold band on my ring finger as my retort lodges in my throat at the dark look in Ronan’s eyes.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I manage to choke out before slipping past the last few guests waiting to greet us and through the double doors.
But I don’t make it to the bathroom. Instead, I push through the service door at the end of the hall and step into the alley behind the hotel.
Cold air hits my skin, but it’s a warm welcome compared to the stuffy air of the ballroom.
My eyes close, and for a moment, I lose myself to the silence. That is, until a familiar voice cuts through it.
“You should be inside, enjoying your moment.”
I whip around to find Lorcan Sullivan leaning against the brick wall, with a cigar in one hand and his jacket slung over his arm.
I stiffen under the weight of his gaze. “Just needed some air.”
He takes a long drag on his cigar. “It can be overwhelming with a crowd like that. It comes with big expectations.”
I shrug, trying to keep my expression neutral. “I guess...”
He exhales smoke, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regards me. “You’ve got fire. I can see why Ronan chose you.”
Chose me?
Is he being serious right now? I’m not some shiny trinket that Ronan plucked off a shelf.
“I’m sure Ronan had his reasons.”
“He did.” Lorcan flicks ash from his cigar onto the ground before pushing off the wall. “This marriage is a good thing, for you and your family.”
I smile tightly at his words. He makes it sound like Ronan is doing this out of the goodness of his heart, which is about as far from the truth as possible.
Besides, I’m not sure Ronan even has a heart.
“How generous of the Sullivans.”
Lorcan’s broad shoulders shake as he chuckles before tossing his finished cigar on the ground. “Just… make the most of the opportunity.”
I want to scream.
He says it like I should be grateful, as if marrying into this family is some kind of prize when, in reality, it's nothing but a gilded cage.
But I don’t argue. I’ve had enough fake smiles for one day.
“I should get back.”
He doesn’t stop me. Instead, he watches me go with a quiet curiosity, and I can still feel his gaze on my back long after I re-enter the ballroom.
As the evening winds down, I sit in the corner of the ballroom, sipping champagne as I watch Mila dance with Ronan’s youngest brother.
Her cheeks are flushed pink as she moves around the dance floor, a huge smile plastered on her face as she sings along to the music.
At least one of us is having fun.
I glance around and notice Ronan standing at the bar.
He’s taken off his suit jacket and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, exposing the powerful muscles in his forearms. A rare smile graces his mouth as he talks to some of the guests, and a slight dimple appears in his left cheek, which I’ve never noticed before…
“I’m exhausted!” Mila collapses into the chair beside me, snapping my attention away from Ronan.
“Having fun?”
“Surprisingly, yes.” She laughs. “Why don’t you come and join us?”
“I don’t really feel like dancing…”
“Oh, come on, Ciara. Brennan’s actually not so bad.”
“Is that so?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going there.” She chuckles. “But it doesn’t hurt to have some eye candy. Speaking of which, where’s that husband of yours?”
I try not to noticeably cringe at the term husband.
Mila gasps as she reaches out to grip my arm. “Oh, my god.”
“Ow!” I cry as her nails dig into my skin. “What?”
“I’ve just realized… You and Ronan.”
I frown. “What about me and Ronan?”
Mila looks at me with amusement in her eyes as she raises her eyebrows. “Are you going to have sex tonight?”
All the blood rushes to my cheeks at the same time my stomach bottoms out.
Shit. I didn’t think that far ahead.
Does Ronan expect us to have sex tonight? It is our wedding night, after all, but we’re not exactly a traditional couple. Hell, he didn’t even kiss me after we were declared husband and wife. Not that I wanted him to, of course.
“Uh…” Mila covers her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter at what is most likely a look of horror on my face.
“No.” I shake my head.
“No? Are you serious?”
I glance back over at Ronan and nod.
He is insanely attractive, but that isn’t enough to get me into bed. He might have secured our marriage with his wealth and status, but my body is still mine, and he doesn’t get access to that too just because I said I do.
Not tonight.
Not ever.