Page 12 of Devil's Bride

“How about I leave you girls and check if everything is in order.” My mother stands and leaves the room.

Arielle hurries to my side. “Your dress is lovely. Just how much did this cost?”

“A ton of money.”

Unlike me, Arielle is from a middleclass family. Sometimes I feel bad about all the flashy things I own and she doesn’t, so we go shopping together and I pay the bills. She refused to let me pay for her bridesmaid’s dress, she said something like she wasn’t shameless enough to let me pay for her dress.

I honestly didn’t mind. I love her and she’s been a good friend to me for most of my life.

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be married to Alexei Vadim,” she says.

“I can’t either.” My shoulders drop as I sigh. My hands are clammy from being so nervous. “I don’t know what comes after this to be honest. I’m afraid.”

She places a reassuring hand on mine. “It’s normal to be afraid. I know I’ve talked about my crush on him and all, but the truth is, I’d also find getting married to him unnerving. You don’t know him or what he’s capable of, and I can’t tell you that because I don’t know either. But I don’t want you to go into this with a negative mindset, he might surprise you.”

“Yeah, he might surprise me and kill me on the first day of the marriage,” I say sardonically.

Arielle’s eyes crinkle. “Or he might make love to you and the both of you will get to know each other better. He might not be the monster you think he is.”

“And if he is?”

“I’ll come over and kill him myself.”

I laugh, feeling some of the weight drop from my shoulders. “Thank God I have you to rely on.”

“And Damien? He seemed really pissed when I saw him downstairs.”

“He is, but there’s nothing either one of us can do.” My eyes prickle with tears, I can’t believe it’s the last time I’ll be sleeping in my own home, on my bed, unless I visit. What if he doesn’t even allow me to do that?

My sadness must be obvious because Arielle pulls me in for a hug, gently patting my back. “You’ll be fine, babes. I know you will, you’re the strongest and kindest person I know.”

We break our hug when one of the maids comes to tell me it’s time to go to the church. Arielle and I take the car with Damien in it, and we’re all quiet on the drive.

Minutes later, my father is leading me down the aisle and I’m trying my very best to stop bile from climbing up my throat. I’m nervous, but this isn’t the right time and place to vomit.

I try not to look at the faces of the men in this hall. The last thing I want is to see the darkness in their eyes and begin to wonder how many of them have blood on their hands.

I pass two guys who look just like Alexei, the one who looks the youngest has blue eyes instead of the dark-brown ones his brothers have.

My brother still looks pissed, as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. I feel him because I’d rather be anywhere else too. It’s like my brain hasn’t fully registered that I’m getting married or who I’m getting married to, and I’m trying really hard not to think about it.

Just keep walking.

I squeeze my father’s hand when I pass my mother. She’s faking a smile, but her eyes are red and swollen. She also hates this wedding. Arielle is standing next to her, and it’s hard to read the expression on her face. She’s struggling between being happy for me and feeling sorry I’m being pawned off like useless goods.

When we reach Alexei at the end of the aisle, my brain fizzles for a long second. He looks incredibly handsome in his charcoal, almost black, suit. His dark eyes meet mine as my father places my hand in his.

I steal more glances at him as the priest delivers a long sermon on the sanctity of marriage and being a good couple. Alexei, on the other hand, doesn’t steal glances at me. His eyes are locked on me, like he wants to tear my gown off me and take me right here in front of the alter.

Pervert.

The problem is, I think I’d let him if he tried. I’ve been horny for too long and he’s a bible chapter away from becoming my husband. But that’s only if we don’t kill each other first.

His eyes trail down my neck and stop at my breasts. I stop breathing because I don’t want to give him a show, but the way he looks at me, the lust and need in his eyes, awakens a throb between my legs.

He’s torturing with that gaze, and I know he’s having fun doing it as he winks at me. I can’t be the only one suffering, so I start breathing, pushing my chest out a little more and staring at the bulge in his pants.

I wonder how big he is.

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