Page 31 of Fake Out Forever

“Just promise if I end up killing Richard, you’ll be my alibi.”

“I give you my word.” Sabrina tucks her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

My heart aches with every step.

The doors to the church open, and I can see Richard standing at the altar. He’s more than twenty years older than I am, bald, short, and with a big, round paunch. Father chose him for my husband because the man is filthy rich. It's not like we need any more money. We’re all millionaires— every single one of us. However, Father is greedy to the core.

Mother walks down the aisle, followed by Sabrina.

Father takes my arm. “You will be happy, Maya. You’ll see.”

I take a deep breath through my nose, put one foot in front of the other, and walk to my death.

“If anyone can show just cause why Richard and Maya should not be lawfully wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The words ring out in the sanctuary like a gunshot.

When there is no reply, the priest nods at Richard. “Take her hand and repeat after me.”

Sabrina pulls back my veil, and Richard’s sweaty hand touches mine. He gives me a smile that has my stomach clenching.

“I, Richard, take you Maya…”

“Stop!”

I swing my head around to see Cade charging down the aisle.

“I object!” He shouts. “I object! I object! I object!”

The roar of my beating heart rushes past my eardrums. Is this real? Or am I dreaming? I look over at the priest. He’s turned an awful shade of crimson red. I glance at Richard, who is now sweating profusely. Then, I pivot to see Father. His brows are knit down tight. His mouth a tiny thin line.

Oh. My. God.

This is real.

“I won’t let you marry him, duchess.”

“Duchess?” My father is on his feet. “She has a name. It’s Maya. And you, sir, are not welcome here.”

“I’m not leaving without her.” He locks eyes with my father. “I’m in love with your daughter.”

“Cade…” I whisper.

Cade extends his hand to me. “Let’s go, duchess.”

“I can’t… you don’t understand…” I sob.

“See? She doesn’t want to go with you.” My father points to the door. “Leave. Now. Or I’m calling the police. As a matter of fact…” He turns to my mother. “Deliah, call the police.”

“No.” My mother slowly rises.

“What did you just say?” My father snarls.

“I said no.” Mother turns to me. “I’m sorry, dear. I should have done this years ago.” She grabs Sabrina’s hand. “For both of you.”

“Fine.” My father takes out his cell. “I’ll make the call.”

“You will do no such thing.” Mother snatches the phone from father’s hand.

The guests are whispering, watching the drama with wide eyes, and the priest is sweating while tugging at his collar. I don’t know what to do.

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