Page 79 of Thirst Trap

Lucas bent, brushed his lips to Maddison’s temple, and whispered:

“They don’t get to decide if you’re real. I do.”

***

Back in the dressing room Maddison sank onto the velvet stool, silk bunching in her fists. “I hate them,” she whispered. “I hate that they can still make me feel broken.”

Lucas knelt in front of her, folding his big frame down, eyes steady on hers.

“They want you to believe you’re crazy because it’s easier than admitting you’re better,” he said quietly. “Don’t let them win.”

Her vision blurred. He caught her tears with his thumbs.

“I don’t want normal,” he murmured. “I want you.”

Her laugh cracked, unsteady. “You’re not supposed to be the calm one.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

And when he kissed her , slow, grounding, reverent , Maddison finally believed it.

Not just the dress.

Not just the fantasy.

But herself.

She was his fiancée.

And the whole world knows it now.

The boutique mirrors showed a girl they could never erase again.

Lucas’s bride.

Chapter 43

Ruined Satin

The dress wasn’t supposed to be here. It should’ve been pinned for alterations, waiting in a boutique window. Instead, Lucas had thrown down his black card, told them to pack it up, and brought it home. Now it hung in his penthouse.

Now it was hers.

Now it was dangerous.

Maddison slipped into it alone, hands trembling as the zipper slid up. Satin hugged her curves, heavy and cool, like a secret meant only for them.

Her reflection stared back: wild red hair, flushed cheeks, bare feet peeking out beneath the hem of the wedding dress. Not her mother’s version of her. Not the crazy daughter. Not the broken girl.

This was Lucas’s version. His bride.

She padded into the living room, heart hammering.

Lucas waited. Shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled, tie discarded. His whiskey glass sat untouched. His eyes locked on her instantly and didn’t move.

He exhaled like a man punched in the chest.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “You’re perfect.”