Page 23 of Deceptive Vows (Bound by Vows #3)

The baker returned, apologizing for the interruption, and we resumed tasting cakes.

The lemon was my favorite, but the chocolate was a close second.

As the conversation drifted to flavors and fillings, my mind wandered back to Nazar.

What would he prefer? I realized I didn’t know his favorite cake flavor or if he even liked cake at all.

After we finished at the bakery, we gathered our coats and stepped outside. The December air was biting, and I pulled my coat tighter as the four of us walked toward the dress shop.

“So, what was that call about?” Claire asked as we walked.

I sighed. “The fire investigation. They confirmed it was arson.”

Anna’s eyes widened. “Did they find out who did it?”

Aunt Helen looped her arm with mine, a silent show of support.

“No, just that they used gasoline and that they might have known my security code.” I shook my head. “I’m not surprised. We all know it was Marco. I just don’t know how they got my code.”

Claire frowned. “Have you told Nazar yet?”

“Haven’t had the chance. He’s barely been at the penthouse lately.” I tried to keep my tone neutral, but something must have slipped through.

“You miss him,” Anna said.

It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t bother denying it. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Claire pressed, her eyes fixed on me with that knowing look I hated. “Because you’re starting to actually care about him, and that wasn’t part of the arrangement?”

Aunt Helen watched me carefully, her expression softening. “There’s nothing wrong with caring for your husband, arranged or not.”

I shot her a glare. “Because we’re in the middle of a deadly game with the Morettis and the Gray Wolves, and personal feelings are a liability.”

“So you admit there are feelings,” Anna said smugly.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Claire grinned. “It’s written all over your face. The ice queen is melting.”

I grumbled under my breath. “Don’t you two have husbands to torment instead of me?”

“Not nearly as fun,” Anna said cheerfully. “Besides, watching you fall for someone is like witnessing a solar eclipse—rare and fascinating.”

“I’m not falling for anyone,” I insisted, even as my mind flashed to that almost-kiss two weeks ago, the one I still dreamed about.

“If you say so.” Claire patted my arm patronizingly. “But just so you know, there’s nothing wrong with letting someone in, Thea. Even for you.”

“My Lisbet was just the same,” Aunt Helen added, her voice gentle. “Stubborn as a mule until she finally admitted how she felt about Andros.”

I didn’t respond. We reached the dress shop, and I was grateful for the distraction. As we stepped inside, the warmth enveloping us, I pushed away thoughts of Nazar, of missed opportunities and complicated feelings. Today was about cake and dresses and playing my part in this charade.

Even if, somewhere deep down, a part of me was starting to wish it wasn’t a charade at all.

“Ms. Kalantzis, welcome!” Shanna greeted me with a wide smile. She’d helped both Claire and Anna with their dresses, and I’d been impressed with her. “I’ve pulled several styles for you to try today, based on what we discussed on the phone.”

As I followed her into the boutique’s main showroom, I steeled myself against the surge of emotions I’d been fighting for weeks. This wasn’t real. The dresses, the cake, the invitations—none of it was for a future I would actually have.

So why did it hurt so much to remember that?

“Now,” Shanna gestured to a rack of white and ivory gowns, “I’ve selected a variety of silhouettes. Given your preference for clean lines, I thought we’d start with these.”

Claire immediately gravitated toward a rack a few feet away to a princess ball gown with layers of tulle and crystals. “This one is gorgeous!”

“Absolutely not,” I said flatly.

Anna laughed. “You’d look like a cupcake.”

“A beautiful cupcake,” Claire insisted.

Aunt Helen touched the sleeve of a sleek, modern sheath dress. “This one seems more your style.” She gave me a pointed look.

I nodded, relief washing over me. At least someone understood me. “Let’s start with that one.”

The first dress was nice enough—fitted with a high neck and clean lines, exactly what I thought I wanted. But when I looked in the mirror, surrounded by the three of them, something felt off.

“It’s... fine.” I turned to examine the back.

“Just fine?” Aunt Helen studied my reflection.

I shrugged. “It’s what I asked for.”

“But not what you want,” she said softly.

The next two dresses were variations on the same theme: modern, minimalist, and safe. None of them felt right, though I couldn’ t explain why. This was just a costume for a role I was playing. It shouldn’t matter.

“Maybe try something a little different?” Shanna suggested, bringing over a gown I had initially dismissed.

It was still sleek but had delicate lace details at the shoulders and a low, open back. Not overly fussy, but more romantic than I’d usually gravitate toward.

“Humor me,” she said, seeing my hesitation.

In the dressing room, as I slipped the gown over my head, the soft fabric fell into place like it had been made for me. When I stepped out, the collective gasp from my family told me everything.

“Oh, Thea,” Anna whispered.

Claire’s eyes glistened. “You look...”

“Like a bride,” Aunt Helen finished, her voice thick with emotion.

I turned to face the mirror, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The gown was ivory silk that cascaded down my body like water, the delicate lace creating an ethereal effect I hadn’t expected to love. The open back added just enough drama, while the train swept behind me with quiet elegance .

It was perfect. Exactly what I would have chosen if this were real.

“Thea?” Aunt Helen stepped closer, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “What do you think, my darling?”

The tenderness in her voice nearly broke me. She’d been there for me after we lost Ma, had stepped in to fill that void as best she could. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.

“It’s beautiful,” I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.

“It’s the one,” Shanna declared with confidence.

I nodded, unable to explain the tightness in my chest. This was just pretend. A charade. A means to an end.

So why did I suddenly wish, more than anything, that Nazar could see me in this dress? That his eyes would darken the way they did when he looked at me sometimes, like I was the only woman in the world?

“I’ll take it.” I tried to sound practical rather than emotional.

As I changed back into my clothes, I drew a deep breath, pushing down the tangled mess of feelings. “Let’s get this over with,” I whispered to my reflection.

Maybe if I said it enough, I’d believe it.