Chapter 5
5
CELIA
“ M r. Caruso doesn’t want to risk seeing you prior to the ceremony, so he already left the grounds.” Patricia’s words felt like a well-intentioned lie as she lingered in the doorway. Her gaze fell on the breakfast tray that had been sent up. “Are you done?”
“Yes. I can’t eat. Nerves.”
We could all pretend they were normal pre-wedding jitters and not Gabriel-Caruso-is-a-terrifying-groom jitters.
I glanced back at the rumpled bed sheets. He’d obviously slept on his side of the bed, but he’d been gone before I woke.
He really must be half-demon to sleep as little as he did. Sleep was one of my favorite things.
“Your bridesmaids will be waiting for you at the venue for hair, makeup, and the final fitting of your gown,” she told me.
“Bridesmaids?” I repeated, covering my surprise with a cold tone.
“Your bridesmaids, of course,” she said as if she had misunderstood my question.
Who the hell were my bridesmaids?
Part of me wondered if Gabriel knew that Kara, Natalie, and Moriah were my best friends. After all, Luca had terrified me with the thought that they might be in danger because our secrets had been uncovered.
When we arrived at the venue, I couldn’t resist hunting for Gabriel as I crossed the lobby and as I entered the hall for the penthouse suites. But there was no one else there until Marcus swiped the key card to open the suite door for me.
“Have a nice…wedding,” Marcus told me, handing me the key card carefully. I had the feeling he wanted to make sure we didn’t touch, so I took the keycard from him gingerly.
“That’s surreal to hear,” I told him with a smile, turning my real feelings into something easily digestible.
Then I turned into the suite and was surprised to find two strangers there. The disappointment that Kara and Nicole weren’t waiting for me was a punch in the chest, but I turned my smile on these two.
A tall, dark-haired woman.
A petite dirty blond with a pixie cut and a sharp smile.
“Hi,” the pixie said, advancing on me. “I’m Chloe.”
“And I’m Alison,” the tall one told me.
“Celia,” I told them, though they certainly knew that. “Thank you for coming.”
“If Gabriel needs a favor…” Chloe said, and if she’d smiled suggestively, I would’ve hated her forever. But instead, she continued, “My asshole brother will make me volunteer.”
Was he really an asshole, like my brother, or was that affectionate terminology? It was always hard for me to read other people’s sibling relationships, given the baggage of my own.
“Who’s your brother?” I asked, trying to piece their connections together.
“Reid is one of Gabriel’s best friends,” Chloe told me.
I couldn’t imagine Gabriel being someone’s friend, rather than controlling them. It was hard to wrap my mind around.
“Reid,” I repeated. I turned to Alison. “How did you get dragged into this?”
She let out a throaty laugh. “I didn’t have to be dragged. An open bar, dancing, and cake? I adore weddings. I would’ve crashed it if Killian hadn’t invited me because Gabriel wanted someone at your side besides his hulking ugly bodyguards.”
I didn’t quite know how to parse that, and Chloe smiled. “Don’t mind Alison. She muscled her way into being the only girl?—”
“I’m twenty-nine,” Alison put in.
“Enforcer for the Harrow family.” Chloe finished, looking proud of her friend.
Kara’s family.
“Really, Killian doesn’t let me do anything dangerous. But still, I have skills. I wouldn’t like, take a bullet for you. But I would totally throw a knife into the throat of any enemy who popped up at the altar.”
“Are you…armed?” I asked, since she was wearing quite the skimpy dress.
“Always,” she told me, with a smile that brought dimples into her cheeks.
“Psycho,” Chloe said affectionately, touching her arm. To me, she said, “Don’t let her get started. She will start pulling knives off her body, and we’ll be here all day.”
As the two of them bickered affectionately, I wandered over to my wedding dress, which had been hung up for me. I felt even more lonely in the glow of someone else’s friendship, even though they seemed perfectly lovely.
I missed my own girls.
GAbrIEL
As we stood at the altar, Reid ducked his head toward me. “Are you ready?”
“Of course. You know marriage doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Of course,” Reid echoed, although everything sounded smartassy when he said it.
Maybe that was why I’d picked him. Reid was a good Luca stand-in.
Killian glanced over at the two of us, his big, tattooed hands folded in front of him as the wedding march began. Killian was older than I was at thirty, and although he worked for a rival family, he’d helped me out as much as he could when my family was ground into the dirt. We’d been friendly since he was a scrappy teenager who first came to our family’s underground fights. And just like always, he cast a slightly judgmental look over Reid and me.
As the wedding march began, I took in the crowd as they all turned to face Celia. The room was decorated sumptuously, in ivory and hunter green; flowers filled every surface. My staff had outdone themselves. I’d heard the crowd’s admiration as the most important families in our city trickled in, and it had pleased me.
Now I heard their murmurs for Celia just as loudly.
Steeling myself, I looked toward her.
Celia walked gracefully down the aisle toward me. Her platinum blond hair was gathered in a polished knot, showing off the long, graceful line of her neck. She’d chosen her dress well; the mermaid-style white gown was classy but showcased her lush curves to full advantage. She looked both elegant and sexy.
She certainly knew how to play her part.
As she reached my side, she gave me a sunny smile. It was playing to the crowd, and my lips turned up in response. Her eyes widened in genuine surprise, her smile growing, before she turned to face the officiant.
I studied her profile. She’d make an excellent wife for anyone who could appreciate her intelligence, her wit, her resilience. In another life, perhaps she could have found happiness with someone who could love her.
But those weren’t the cards we’d been dealt.
This strange, bright light would be mine.
As the officiant droned on about the sacred nature of marriage, I imagined we were in this luxurious hall alone. I imagined Celia crawling to me instead of walking so demurely and confidently down the aisle.
I admired the way she carried herself in a crowd like this.
It just wasn’t how I wanted her to come to me .
In my past fantasies, she was an extension of Royal and her father, men I despised with every fiber of my being. When I’d imagined that hurting her would hurt them, the thought of breaking her had sent a thrill through me.
Except now that I had grown to know Royal and Mal better, and their relationship to Celia, I no longer thought they would care.
Now, I only wanted to break her for my own purposes.
When it came time for our vows, Celia’s voice was steady as she pledged herself to me. Not a hint of fear or hesitation showed on her face. She was playing her part flawlessly. As I repeated the words back to her, I wondered how long her composure would last once we were alone.
“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant droned.
I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers in a chaste kiss befitting our audience. Celia’s lips were soft, yielding. For a moment, I was tempted to deepen the kiss, to stake my claim.
But I restrained myself.
There would be time enough for that later.
As we turned to face the crowd of well-wishers, I caught sight of Dante and Luca watching from the back. Their expressions were grim, and it wasn’t solely because they were under guard, with my men alongside them.
I wanted them to know that Celia was mine.
They didn’t approve of my plans for her. They’d tried to convince me to see her as an ally rather than a pawn.
My marriage was about power and revenge.
And I intended to savor every moment.