Page 92 of Seizing Control: Part One

My composure evaporates.

I can’t do this.

Frantic, I search for a way out.

A smaller door to the left beckons me

“I need to be alone.” Crystal inclines her head to acknowledge my request. “Let me know when it’s time to walk down the aisle.”

“Of coruse,” my mother-in-law tells me. “I’ll come find you when it’s time.”

My panic ratchets up another notch in the face of her trust in me.

I don’t have the heart to inform her that I won’t be here then. Nadia is the first to notice my about-face, and she accurately gauges the lie I just told. Still, she’s too late to stop me as I hike up my full skirt and dash into the next room. The heavy bureau is hard to move, but I’m powered by desperation, so I manage to barricade the door with some effort.

“Little Cherub.” Crystal’s tone is steely as she bangs on the wood. “Open the door.”

“I’ll be out in a moment.”

After searching the room for a way to escape, I plonk into the rocking chair when I realise that I’ve locked myself into a small flat with a tiny kitchenette and no windows wide enough for me to climb out.

“Damn it.”

The commotion outside tells me that my reprieve is about to become common knowledge.

I ready myself for a visit from Toker, my uncles, or my brothers.

Not exactly people I want to talk to about sex.

Rocking back and forth in the antique chair, I peer at the wall with sightless eyes.

How did my life spiral so far out of control?

All I’ve ever wanted is to marry Zeke, have children, and raise them while I worked as an attorney for the Shamrocks. I wanted Zeke to be content, safe in the knowledge that I had full faith in him and his abilities. I dreamed of sevety years together, the pair of us, old and grey, as we reminisced about the good old days with Slash… and the faceless woman my imagination conjured as his partner.

Now, when I squint, I discover that she was faceless for a reason.

Blonde, blue eyed, with resting bitch face.

Slash’s wife in my dreams of the future was a blurred version of me.

“What a mess,” I mutter to myself. Relaxing back in the chair, I use one stiletto clad foot to sway back and forth while I rest my weary head. My eyes sting with suppressed tears that I can’t let fall. Tearful, every nerve ending twangs with the need to run—or cut—but I refuse to give into it. I’m already disappointed enough in myself with the drama I’ve just created. Becoming a runaway bride, embarrassing Slash while I put Zeke at further risk is a step too far. “Face it, Lilianna, you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. A rock named Zeke and a hard place known as Slash’s past trauma.”

Normally, when I talk to myself, I find clarity.

Today, it’s the opposite.

The more I mutter out loud, the muddier the waters become.

I want to save Zeke—prove that our love can withstand anything and anyone.

I also want to give Slash what he needs. My entire heart. First choice. Zero doubts.

My objectives are contradictory.

They run counter to each other.

“Failure is the only logical outcome,” I admit out loud.

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