Page 132 of Stolen Temptation

The building is so beautiful, the wedding could happen anywhere. In a hallway. In one of the bathrooms. On the double-wide staircase up ahead. It’s truly the most stunning place I’ve ever been in.

But the opulence is lost on me. I’m too dead inside to appreciate a single thing.

A venue worker with long blond hair piled into a pineapple bun on top of her head leads us down the red carpet. Before we reach the stairs, we turn into a private dressing chamber. A woman I assume is the wedding planner explains the timeline for the day to Theresa.

I nearly collapse onto the stool in front of the vanity. My stomach drops. I don’t even recognize myself. Never realized there used to be a light in my eyes until it was…

Gone.

Just like Rory.

I don’t have enough tears left to muster a cry. Not before Theresa and a gaggle of wedding assistants swarm me to begin the beautification process.

Somehow, time crawls byandmoves too quickly. The hair sculpting and makeup take forever. Eventually, noises creep in from under the door.

High-heeled shoes clacking on marble. The tinkling of glasses. Laughter and chatter from guests as they file in to watch my metaphorical death in person.

The roar gets louder and louder, a symphony reaching its crescendo.

How many people did Leo and the Petrovs invite to this thing?

After the hair and makeup artists finish brightening up my corpse of a face, it’s time to put on the dress. Leo selected a princess ballgown. The lace bustier on top restricts my lung capacity by at least seventy-five percent and devolves into an explosion of tulle.

It’s the kind of wedding dress that kills any possibility of running.

I’m sure that’s exactly what Leo was aiming for.

The next time I catch my reflection in the mirror, Ireallydon’t recognize myself. I look like Ballerina Barbie, only with dark brown hair.

So much makeup has been applied to my forlorn face that it feels like a mask. I don’t know what to say about my hair except that it’s full of feathers and pearls and who knows what else.

Theresa fawns over me for a few seconds before the wedding planner reappears. She begins to usher our whole party toward a door on the far side of this dressing room.

The wedding assistants carry my train, and Theresa folds my arm through hers as we shuffle forward. We duck through the door, and almost immediately, I find myself drowning in raucous applause.

My head snaps up to find an open hall full of guests exuberantly cheering my entrance. I’m standing on a small platform that reminds me of a display window in a mall. There’s a bench with a big satin cushion in front of a wall of silk curtains. It’s like a ‘take-a-picture-with-the-bride’ booth.

The next thing I know, I’m sitting on the satin bench and a parade of people I’ve never met before are lining up to greet me and bestow their fondest wishes for my upcoming nuptials to Maksim Petrov.

None of them really care whether I have good luck with my husband. Not one of them waits for me to saythank youor comments on my lack of excitement. Instead, I sit frozen, a doll for them to coo over before they move on to congratulate Leo.

This is for his benefit, not mine.

More than once, I swallow bile as my stomach clenches from fear and disgust. In just a few hours, I’ll be the wife of a creepy, abusive tyrant.

That’s the mafia way, right?

Except, that’s not true. I remember when I believed all mafia men were the same, but I was wrong. Rory was different. And, as frightening as I found Finn Gallagher, he and his friend must be different too. Otherwise, his wife would never say his name with that dreamy look in her eye, and the twins’ laughter wouldn’t flow freely inside the Gallagher estate.

I miss Rory so much.

My brain pours over memories of the short time I spent with him.

He may have kidnapped me, locked me up, and put a tracker on me…but he also brought me art supplies…shared stories and cupcakes…resisted his own boss to protect me…made love to me.

Rory took risks. He took risks forme.

He put me above himself, his orders, his safety. He made me feel like I meant something to him. And before I knew it, he meant something to me.