Page 15 of Hunted Vengeance

Walking into the building, I try to push the odd feeling and questions away. I’m instantly greeted by a woman who smiles a bit too brightly. It’s fake, so damn fake, but I meet her wide smile with a small one of my own.

“Tell me, what exactly are you looking for?”

Marina should have told her all of that shit already. She also should be here. I’m not sure why she isn’t. As soon as I open my mouth to tell the bridal consultant that I don’t know and don’t really care, either, the sound of the fairy-tale music fills my ears.

The consultant frowns, then moves toward the door. I watch as she tugs her phone out of her pocket and touches the screen a few times before she brings it to her ear. She starts talking, but I don’t listen. Then she reaches for the door and pulls it open to reveal Marina standing there.

Her whole security system is on her phone—very cool.

Admittedly, I know very little about the security business. It’s not like Merrick and I shared pillow talk about business. We hardly talked at all about anything. He didn’t initiate conversations, and I wasn’t about to annoy him.

For the first time in my life, I could breathe, and I was happy just to be a ceramic statue on a pedestal, untouchable and ignored until I was ready to be used. I would have lived in silence for the rest of my life just to feel that peace every morning when I opened my eyes.

Marina walks through the door, and I’m brought back from my short-lived fantasy. I watch as she gives the bridal consultant a kiss on each of her cheeks as they hug. A few moments later, I’m ushered into a room in a flurry of excited chatter.

I say nothing.

Then I’m stripped out of my clothes, and a big poofy dress is dropped over my head before it’s cinched and pinned at my waist and back. I look up and expect to see my reflection, but the mirror is covered by black fabric.

“It really ruins the moment if you see the dress in these dressing rooms. It should be an experience,” the consultant announces as if hearing my unsaid question. “We’ll reveal it outside, and you can see it in the three-sixty mirror.”

I don’t know if I agree with her, but I don’t argue. Picking up the front of the dress with my hands, I step down from the pedestal and follow behind her as she guides me toward the main room.

At least there is nobody else here except Marina to witness me in this cupcake dress. It’s absolutely nothing that I would ever choose for myself. Marina gasps as soon as I enter the room, holding her hands over her lips as her eyes tear up.

God.

Gross.

The consultant helps me onto the main pedestal before she releases my dress. I place my arms at my side, and that is when I lift my head to finally see my reflection, and I’m horrified. It’s a gorgeous dress, on someone else but not on me. It is not my style at all.

“This is a Pnina Tornai, one of my favorites,” the consultant announces.

Marina and the consultant start talking about the floral double organza skirt. It starts at my waist, and there are so many flowers that it seems almost unreal. It’s really beautiful, but not for me. The bodice is also over the top. It’s sheer, and the only things covering my breasts are beads and crystals.

I enjoy fashion when it’s on other people, not on me. I would be happy with a sleek satin or silk fabric and zero embellishments that cover everything. This is too much. I don’t have the personality to fill this dress… or, to be honest, the breasts either.

Opening my mouth, I start to tell Marina that, but she speaks over me… well, squeals, and she tells the consultant that it’s perfect. It’s everything she envisioned, and to order it. The bridal consultant hesitantly looks between her and me, then back to me, and gives me a small smile as if waiting to hear my confirmation.

“We’ll take it,” I say softly.

And it’s at this moment that I realize Marina is planning this wedding for herself. I thought that it was my father doing this all, making these demands, and I know that he’s made some, but this is mostly for her.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I look back at my reflection and take it all in. I hope this wedding is an epic failure. And right now, with Marina’s overpowering bullshit, I hope her head is the one on the chopping block for it. It’s mean, I know it is, but right now, I feel like thinking mean thoughts.

I continue to think mean thoughts as I climb into the back of the town car and even as I walk back into my bedroom and close the door behind me so I can be alone. I hope that everything about this wedding fails.

I don’t want it.

A tear streams down my cheek for the first time since this stupid thing was announced, and I whisper three words that I swore I would never say aloud.

“I miss Merrick.”

And I do.

Desperately.

But he doesn’t miss me. He’s no doubt relieved that I’m out of his hair and out of his bed.

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