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CHAPTER NINE

Mya

I felt as if I were floating, detached from everything around me.

Was this my real life? The people around me seemed to pass by in a blur, an endless stream of faces that I didn’t recognize or acknowledge.

Their voices overlapped with each other. There was so much noise, so much activity. I wanted it all to just stop. It was all too much, too soon.

My chest felt tight, and I shut my eyes. I needed to shut the world out.

But that was how I had felt every day since Dario took over my life. Or what used to be my life.

It wasn’t mine anymore. It didn’t make any sense. I wanted to shake myself awake, pretend none of this was real, but it was.

I opened my eyes and forced myself to face the reality of my situation. I was in a bridal suite preparing to get married…to Dario. How could I marry Dario? How could I marry the man whose brother killed Jason?

My mind drifted to Nico. Would he show his face at the wedding? My stomach turned at the idea, but part of me hoped that he would. Part of me still wanted him to pay.

If I hadn’t been so exhausted from the mental drain of knowing I was about to exchange vows with a dangerous stranger, perhaps I would have had revenge on my mind.

As luck would have it, I couldn’t just think about myself and my pain anymore. Things had changed.

I was pregnant.

I still couldn’t believe it. I’d always been pretty regular. And once I wasn’t, I assumed my period was late because of stress. And then a second month had passed and still nothing. I had tried to pretend that night with Dario hadn’t happened, which meant that pregnancy was the furthest thing on my mind.

However, one fateful day, I was waiting in the checkout line at one of the local dollar stores and saw a display full of pregnancy tests. Something told me to grab one.

I took one home and used it. It was positive. I went back to the store and bought five more. They were all positive, too.

Then I proceeded to get violently sick. It was like all my body needed was confirmation that I was pregnant to suddenly experience pregnancy symptoms. The nausea had been the worst.

I couldn’t eat or even think about certain foods without feeling the need to find the nearest waste basket. I was naturally a homebody, but being pregnant made it one hundred times worse.

Even the smell of the neighborhood’s café made my stomach turn, so I stopped venturing out too far from home.

The day Dario had shown up had been the first time in weeks that I felt I could eat something without getting sick. His presence had been a shock, and I had wordlessly opened the door, not really thinking.

I had thought about him a lot after our encounter, especially when I realized I was pregnant with his child. I told myself that he didn’t need to know, that the chances of me running into him again were pretty slim, but then it had happened—he’d appeared at my doorstep.

Before that moment, I never thought of telling him. I had already known I would keep the baby. To be honest, the baby had been my only hope in a rather dark time.

Things had gotten really bad for me after I failed to kill Nico. I had felt as if my life was over. No Jason. No vengeance. Just nothingness.

And then I found out I was growing a life inside of me. I might not have been able to take Nico’s life, but in return, I had gotten something truly extraordinary to hold onto. I couldn’t deny that the child growing inside me was loved.

For that reason, I hadn’t fought Dario when he came to my house that day with his ridiculous demands. I couldn’t have my baby in prison. I couldn’t have my child taken from me and raised by the family that had stolen everything from me. I couldn’t bear it.

So, I accepted his crazy offer.

When I didn’t hear from him for a few days after he showed up at my apartment, I thought that maybe he’d come to his senses and wouldn’t rope me into a living nightmare, but then a demure woman with a pinched expression had shown up at my door and said that she was the wedding planner. She had said she needed to ask me some questions.

In shock that he planned to go through with the wedding after all, I’d let her in my home. She took one look at my place, turned back to me and said, “Perhaps we can meet elsewhere?”

I didn’t blame her. My place wasn’t a dump, but it was utilitarian…and a little untidy and dusty. Just surviving had been my main goal after Jason died, and even more so after finding out I was pregnant. I had neglected cleaning or doing much of anything for a while.

In retrospect, I guess my place was kind of a dump.

My surroundings now were as far from a dump as I could get. I was literally standing in a palace.

Who would have known that it was possible to rent a palace on your own private island in the middle of nowhere?

That’s where my wedding…I still couldn’t believe it…was taking place. It was a private island up north that happened to be home to a mansion built to replicate some important palace in Italy. The wedding planner had excitedly told me about it.

She had gone on and on about how romantic it was. It was the only time her tone had even been remotely animated.

It was a dream wedding location, a fairytale come true. At least to all those on the outside looking in. But I also knew that there was only one way on and one way off the island.

I thought of the lyrics to Hotel California, and my face twisted into a wry smile. Suddenly, they all made sense to me.

There was no way to escape. I wasn’t a champion swimmer who could swim miles in a wedding gown in the hopes of reaching the shore before Dario or one of his goons caught me.

So, while others probably thought the wedding location was enchanting, romantic, and unique, I knew he had chosen this location to make sure I couldn’t get away.

So, I would be getting married that day. It was happening whether I liked it or not. I had put on the dress. I would smile and pretend that today was the happiest day of my life, because I knew it was my only option. I would accept living in this gilded cage until I thought of a way out, not just for myself, but also for my baby.

I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t even know what the first step was. I just needed to get through the day. I needed to get through my wedding.

“Mya, you look breathtaking,” the wedding planner said, staring at me with large eyes in disbelief. She was used to seeing me in sweats, stained T-shirts, and generally looking like I didn’t give a damn.

First of all, she was right—I didn’t give a damn what I looked like, and I had made that very clear to Dario. Secondly, I wore baggy clothes just in case anyone noticed that my butt was a little bigger than normal and that I had started to grow a little belly.

I still just looked bloated. I didn’t know how much longer I had before I started to show for real.

I just figured that I would need to get out before my pregnancy became obvious. Thankfully, the nausea was gone for the most part. Dario was a controlling beast already. I could only imagine that he would lock me away forever if he knew about the baby.

For that reason alone, I was determined to keep playing his games.

I looked in the mirror at myself. The wedding planner had insisted that I wear extensions, so my auburn hair was even longer, hanging down my back. I felt like a ridiculous version of Rapunzel, but in my story, I was on the verge of being married to a complete asshole.

Speaking of which, besides a brief phone call where he stated for the record that he was watching my every move, “So, don’t think about doing anything stupid,” I hadn’t heard from my husband-to-be.

The mere thought made me bitter and sad. I’d once married for love. I’d married the man who’d made me a better person.

Now, I was marrying a mobster who would just probably kill me if I didn’t agree to his whims. I wasn’t winning at life , I thought to myself wryly.

The stupid long hair was his idea, the wedding planner had informed me after the stylist left. Dario had even picked out my dress and bouquet.

Every choice had been made for me. He’d given me choices but had vetoed all my selections. I’m not sure why the wedding planner even bothered to ask me about my preferences when she knew Dario was going to have the wedding his way.

It was his wedding. His big day. I was just along for the ride.

He controlled everything. I couldn’t wait for the day when it all came crashing down on him. Even the most controlling man had weaknesses. I was going to find them and exploit them.

“Miss, they’re ready for you,” said one of the wedding planner’s assistants, looking at me as if I was a sight to behold.

Finally, I looked in the mirror. The dress had a train long enough to cover the entire living room of my apartment. The dress itself was puffy, thankfully, so it hid my backside.

It was an off-white color—we couldn’t have white, after all. It wasn’t as if I were a virgin. I wanted to roll my eyes but forced myself not to when the wedding planner told me that.

I honestly looked like a princess on her wedding day. The wedding planner squeezed my arm, and then brought the clipboard she always had crushed against her chest and squealed in delight like a schoolgirl.

“This is my favorite part!”

She started to tear up. She must have been just as delusional as Dario.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” I said walking away from my reflection.

I refused to tarnish my memory of my first wedding day by pretending that this second wedding was something that I actually wanted. The joy of marrying a man I loved deserved to be prevented from being sullied by the experience of this second wedding day.

Jason and I had gotten married at the courthouse. I’d worn my best dress, which wasn’t saying much, and a pair of kitten heels. The locket from my mom had hung around my neck. Afterward, we’d celebrated with Luis and some of his other buddies from the force by having a reception turned potluck in our backyard. It had been perfect.

As the wedding music started, I was told exactly where to stand, and then someone opened the large doors leading to the room where I was to be married. There were at least three hundred people there. I didn’t know any of them.

For the first time, I thought of the magnitude of what I was doing. The voice in my head screamed for me to run away. I desperately wanted to.

And then Dario stepped within my line of sight. His stance said it all. I didn’t have a choice. I was the main star in the show he’d put together that day, and there was no way he would let me ruin his plans.

Feeling like I was in a dream turned into a nightmare, I forced my legs to move. I forced myself to breathe.

I was thankful for the veil that covered my face. For whatever reason, I began to cry.

I cried for Jason. I cried for the baby that I carried. And I cried for the sham of a marriage I was about to enter.

When I reached the end of the aisle, I wiped away my tears quickly before Dario raised my veil. I didn’t look at him. I looked everywhere but at him, but I could feel his eyes on me.

I went through the motions as the priest said his part. I mumbled my answers, feeling that with each word, my chest grew tighter and tighter.

It was as if I couldn’t even breathe. Maybe it was the corset, or maybe it was because I was having a panic attack.

Before I knew it, the priest was pronouncing us man and wife. I felt sick.

Dario leaned forward and kissed me. It took all my strength not to turn my face away. It was my wedding day. I didn’t feel joy or happiness. I felt alone and defeated.

He took my hand and tucked it in the crook of his elbow, escorting me down the aisle as the well-wishers looked on.

I was a fraud.

The reception was uninteresting. I would have fallen asleep if Dario hadn’t been watching me like a hawk.

We were sitting at the front of the ballroom at a table reserved just for the bride and groom. There was no wedding party. Who would he have invited to stand up with us anyway? His murderous brother? And it wasn’t like I would have invited Luis.

I didn’t think Luis would have been interested in mingling with the friends of a family who’d killed his partner. I’d told no one about this arrangement. I’d told no one about the baby.

I was good at keeping secrets.

“You should eat something. I ordered all your favorites.”

I looked down at the plate in front of me. I hadn’t even noticed it. Had we even cut the cake yet?

It was all a blur. I just went through the motions.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Can you at least try to smile?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s your wedding day.”

“You mean, your wedding day. I’m just here because you’re blackmailing me, remember?”

I looked at him then. I’d avoided his eyes all day, but I wanted him to see how much I hated him at that moment.

I didn’t expect my stomach to do a little flip when my eyes finally connected with his. Did he look handsome? Of course. Devilishly so. That’s who he was.

His green eyes, the cut of the suit, even his hair was perfect. With his sharp jawline and olive-toned skin, he looked like a prince who’d just stepped out of a fairytale.

Too bad I had no interest in being his perfect little princess.

“I’m not sure why you want to speak of unpleasant things now, of all times.”

“Unpleasant things? Aren’t you fancy? Is that what we call blackmail nowadays?”

I didn’t care that my voice carried.

He frowned at me. “Keep your voice down.”

“Or what?”

“The gentleman at the table to your right is a US Senator. Next to him is the chief of police, and a well-known prosecutor. They all owe me favors, Mya, so before you get any ideas , I suggest you remember where you are and who you’re with. Take a breath and have a piece of cake.”

He slid a slice of cake my way and took a bite of his own. Then he had the audacity to smile and wink at me.

My fingers itched to throw the cake in his face. He must have read my thoughts because his smile dropped and he said, “You wouldn’t dare.”

I wanted to dare. God, I wanted to smash him right in his gorgeous, stupid, face. But I knew one spirited moment would mean I would have hell to pay.

Instead, I took a bite of my cake, sat my fork back down, and said, “It tastes like trash. Happy now?”

He stared at me, not saying a word, and then turned away from me. He picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth.

Finally, when he turned back toward me, I could see the anger in his eyes.

His look said, no more Mr. Nice Guy.

“You don’t have to be happy about the arrangement, but you will comport yourself with respect and grace. Is that clear?”

His audacity was starting to get on my nerves. “I will comport myself in any manner I deem appropriate.” I leaned in and whispered, “You think your fancy suits and money buys class? You’re nothing but a criminal with a decent vocabulary and enough money to make you forget that you got where you are by killing and sacrificing others. You’re not royalty, Dario. You’re just a criminal playing king.”

With that, I attempted to stand up, but he smoothly caught me by the waist and kept me pinned to my seat.

He whispered in my ear, “You’re not going to go anywhere. And you will respect me. From this moment on, I own you. Your every move. Your every breath. Your every thought is mine. I tried to be nice and accommodating, but if you want to behave like an errant child, I’ll treat you like one. Say goodbye to your freedom.”

“Maybe I should have just chosen prison.”

“There’s still time for that.”

I was seething, but what could I do? He was right…for now. I just needed time to think, to come up with a plan.

The night continued to be unremarkable. We danced a few times, and eventually, all his guests vacated the premises.

There was tension in my shoulders as I realized that we were the only people left on the island. Even the caterers, housekeepers, and waitstaff were gone. All I could think about was that this was our wedding night. Clearly, he wouldn’t expect…

I was ashamed of my own thoughts. He was good-looking and great with his hands…his tongue…his mouth.

I stopped myself. I couldn’t think about him that way. He was my enemy.

“I’m guessing you’re tired.”

I hadn’t been expecting him to care. “I could use some sleep,” I said begrudgingly.

“Follow me.”

I did, and he led me down a long hall that was in the opposite direction of the wing of the palace where we’d exchanged our vows. He opened one side of a set of double doors and stepped aside for me to enter.

The room in front of me was grand. There was no other word for it.

I wandered around, eyes wide. On one side, was a gigantic bed fit for Queen Elsa herself. There was a living quarters area with a couch, a loveseat, and a coffee table in the middle.

Just beyond that, there was a door that led to a bathroom with a giant shower covered in tile that made me think of a Venetian palace. A claw-footed standalone tub with a gold faucet sat in the middle of the room, and everything else was marble as far as the eye could see.

It wasn’t until that moment, that I realized that Dario wasn’t with me. I walked out of the bathroom and found him sitting on the bed, taking off his shoes. His bowtie was tossed on the nightstand next to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

I felt like my question was stupid. He was clearly undressing, but I was flustered.

He stood up and started to unbuckle his belt. I forced myself to look away. I mean, there was no way that he thought that we would―

“If you think that you and I—that we—you know. It’s not happening…” My voice didn’t sound convincing to my own ears.

He didn’t say a word. He just continued to undress, never taking his eyes off me. I watched, now unable to look away, as he stepped out of his pants. I swallowed hard. He looked good in his boxer briefs. They hugged his body in all the right places.

I started talking again to distract myself from that part of him. I had no idea what I was saying.

He was taking off his shirt now, and I just stared. He had wide shoulders and chiseled abs that led to…I pulled my eyes back up to his face.

He just stood there while I continued my mindless tirade against any “funny business” and then when I shut up, he said, “Are you done?”

“Maybe.”

He hooked his thumbs around the waistline of his briefs, and I gasped like a teenager and turned around.

He chuckled behind me. At any moment now, I was sure I would feel him pressed against me, like that moment on the balcony. I could pretend that I didn’t think about it nearly every day, but I did.

I waited for his arms to circle my waist. I waited for his hands to find their way under my dress. I was holding my breath waiting for him to make his move…

And then I heard the bathroom door close behind me and he yelled, “I’ll try not to use all the hot water, but no promises.”

My mouth fell open. Had he really just left me? But that’s what I wanted, right? I wanted to be left alone.

Feeling a mix of anger at my wayward thoughts and relief that he wasn’t going to make any moves on me, I circled the bedroom, looking around. Something was off…something didn’t feel quite right.

It took me a moment, and then the hair on the back of my neck stood up. A few things in the room felt out of place, as if they were there randomly… from the mirror that didn’t fit the room’s theme to the ceiling fan that seemed to have been recently installed. Why was it there?

I pretended I didn’t notice but I paid attention to details like that. My heart sinking, I realized, there was only one reason. To hide cameras.

I was being watched.