Page 72 of Forever Fake

A light knock sounds on the bridal suite door before it opens. Papa enters, his demeanor less aggravated than usual. “Are you ready?”

It’s time. I knew it would be soon, as Arianna came in a while ago and swept everyone out of my room so they could find their seats.

“I’m ready.” Willing my heartbeat to slow down, I arrange the veil over my face, then turn to the man who helped raise me.

“One more thing, Mr. Baron gave me this to give to you.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me a small gold box. Opening it, I find a hair pin decorated with a diamond bird. A magpie. I stare at it for a long moment.

What was that poem about magpies?

One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a wedding…

An unexpected smile tugs at my lips. This side of Blake is the one that I adore most. He gave me two magpies for my birthday—the figurine and my car—now a third for our wedding day. So maybe… maybe this day means more to him than I realized? A fluttery sensation comes to life in my chest.

I glance up at my father. “Can you put this in my hair? I can’t see the back to position it.” I hold my breath, expecting him to refuse.

Instead, he motions me toward him and takes the pin from its box. Carefully lifting my veil, he sticks the pin securely in my hair then helps rearrange the lace.

He offers his arm and I take it. Clearing his throat he says, “You look very nice.”

My brows arch in surprise. I don’t remember the last time he gave me a compliment, even a backhanded one—which this isn’t.

“Um. Thank you.”

He bobs his head once, curt, then we’re heading to the chapel. Someone signals that we’re coming and the wedding song begins to play. My heart flutters and a chill rushes up my spine, prickling my scalp in its wake. I must actually tremblebecause Papa shoots me a somewhat concerned glance. Each step feels like there’s a lead weight attached to my foot.

My gaze latches onto Blake where he stands on the dais, stunningly handsome in an immaculate tuxedo. His expression gives nothing away, but I swear there’s a softness around his sapphire eyes.

That’s when it hits me. The realization that I’ve fallen for him. That’s why this wedding feels so wrong. I’m in love with the man I’m marrying when our relationship is supposed to be fake.

I thought I’d been in love before, but now I realize that’s not true. I’ve never felt this… lost, floaty, achingly emotional about another person before. I want to make him the happiest man alive.

Oh God, this is a disaster waiting to happen. I’m one year away from having my heart crushed, blasted to smithereens, all because I’ve done the one thing that I wasn’t supposed to do and fallen in love with this wicked devil who stands before me. A year married to him will only make our eventual divorce that much more devastating.

The ceremony goes by in a blur of repeating phrases and crippling doubt. Then Blake’s sweeping me into his arms and his soul-shattering kiss makes the entire world fall away. His family and mine fade from existence as his lips move against mine, his tongue seeking entrance. I open to him, reveling in the feeling of him against me.

All too soon, it’s over.

I return to reality in a shower of cheers and applause. This day is supposed to be one of celebration. If only my heart beat with joy instead of dread.

No, I can’t slip into the darkness, it’s not where I want to be. I can be optimistic about this. What if Blake changes his mind? What if he can fall in love with me too? It’s possible. Isn’t it?

CHAPTER 32

Blake

She’s mine. My wife. The realization hits me like a runaway freight train. Even my suspicion of her motivations, and her deceptive behavior, doesn’t overshadow the burning possessiveness scorching my veins.

Half an hour, that’s as far as I make it through our reception before whisking Gin away to our honeymoon suite. I may not be entirely happy with her right now, for keeping secrets, but I can’t wait to take Mrs. Baron to bed. She’s just become mywifeand this new reality completely consumes me.She’s mine.

“This is rude, we can’t just leave all of our guests?—”

“Yes we can.” I pull her into our suite, kicking the door closed behind us. Then my lips are on hers, desperate and demanding. She’s mine for a year and I’m going to make the most of it each and every day.

If she is fucking Oz, I’ll have to remove him from existence, and that will solve that problem.

---