Page 139 of Where the Wicked Reign

The lock clanged, and I pushed open the door a split second later, stepping into the space.

I’d thought her confirming she was dressed meant she’d changed back into her street clothes or something. But I got a hell of a surprise when, instead, I found her there, still in her wedding dress.

Fuck me.

I took in the strapless ballgown with a jeweled bust and golden flower embellishments all over the skirt.

“This is… stunning.”

She shrugged. “It’s not fitted properly, but it’ll do for a façade.” She eyed the door worriedly. “Didn’t the store owner see you?”

“She’s been properly compensated to turn a blind eye to my presenceandto step out for a little while.”

“Of course she has,” she said with a wry smile.

Unfortunately, that beautiful smile slipped all too soon as she gestured at the veil hanging on a hook in the corner of the changing room. “I wanted a tiara and I hate veils, but it’s tradition, one my father is enforcing. Just like the wedding being on a Sunday.”

“Yes, tradition to your father is twisted into a means to exert control.”

“He’s making a mockery of it, really.”

“I’m sorry that this is how your wedding is going to be.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I never dreamed of getting married, anyway. I always saw it as an infringement on my freedom. And lo-and-behold, that’s exactly what my father has tried to make it be.”

“It won’t be. We just have to get through tomorrow, and the rest will be our way.”

“Except in public.”

“For a time only.”

She sighed and walked back to the mirror, screwing up her face at the sight of her in the dress. Then she turned from it and back to me, becoming all business, as she asked, “Is everything still set for tomorrow? Please tell me you didn’t come here to tell me there’s been a complication or a setback?”

“Everything is set and under control. Thanks to my sources and you impressively planting false intel, the Lone Gunners believe a joint Marchetti-Leone attack is imminent after the wedding, and they’ll launch a preemptive strike during the reception.”

“Good,” she breathed. “All good then.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Why are you here then if there’s no issue?”

“I wanted to check in with you in person.”

“I told you I’m not looking to run. Not now.”

“I didn’t think that. I came to make sure you’re okay. All of us wanted to come, but it would’ve drawn attention, so you’ve got me. Seeing as though I’m the groom, I figured it was the most appropriate.”

She chuckled. “I see.”

“So?”

She shoved a hand through her hair. “I’m fine. As fine as can be with what awaits me tomorrow.”

“I’ll be right by your side as soon as you walk down the aisle to me.”

“I know,” she said, beaming at me. “I know all three of you will be.” She unzipped her dress and pushed it down, muttering, “I just can’t wait to get it over with, then the worst will be behind us.” She pulled off the dress and hung it back on the hanger, standing there in just her underwear—a white lace bra and panties.

My dick jerked at the sight.

A growl escaped me next as she bent over to pick up her dress pants on the floor. She pulled up short and rose back up, then turned to me. “Seriously? Right now?”

“Yes,seriously.”

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