I pull the jacket over my broad shoulders and inspect myself once again. It fits perfectly. The tailor has done a good job.
“For a fake marriage to someone you hate, you’re preening yourself a lot.” Liam’s eyes dance with sarcasm.
“Got to look the part afterwards for the press,” I say, aligning my cuffs. “And just so you know, there’s no wedding breakfast or reception. There’s no point with only a handful of guests. I’ll just give a short interview to the hacks with my new ‘bride’ and then everything’s done.”
“No church, no dinner, no reception. Not even a registry office!” Oscar sneers. “Don’t you think that’s dire - even for a fake wedding? Will people not ask questions?”
I pretend not to hear and walk out of the room. A bit dire maybe, and people can speculate all they wish, but getting this wedding done fast is more important than pomp and ceremony to impress others. That will come later.
Now though, it’s time to get married.
CHAPTER
30
Arianna
MY STOMACH TURNS in somersaults as I follow Oscar along the corridor. That he collected me from the room is better than theotherbrother doing it, but nevertheless, the silent recriminations and loathing pulse from him.
Having no one to help me get ready: no hairdresser, makeup crew, no fancy cars and no Papà to give me away, is a far cry from when I married Roberto. That day, I had more staff bustling around to attend my every need than a royal.
But my first marriage wasn’t a royal wedding, and neither isthis. This one is less real than the first!
I carefully take the steps to the ground floor. I don’t want to trip on the long dress. I glance down at the crystals dotted over the bodice and the fitted satin of the long skirt flourishing into a mermaid tail hem around my jeweled shoes. Sylvia wasn’t wrong when she said she had a dress to fit me perfectly.
It does.
And although unwanted, it’s beautiful. It’s just a shame it’s being wasted on that dreadful man.
“Will the car take us from the front of the building or are we going via the back door, so as not to cause embarrassment?” I shouldn’t be sarcastic, but Oscar hasn’t uttered a word, and I have to break the oppressive silence somehow. Plus, I want to know exactly where I’m signing my life away to the feral Redmond Bateman.
“I doubt you’ll need a car to Red’s office,” Oscar sneers.
And that was it. No more, no less.
I carry on walking, desperate to turn around and go back the way I came. I want to return to where I was before I made the ill-fated decision to seek out the Batemans. I’d rather take my chances with retribution.
But would I?
No, so here I am.
Oscar can’t be serious that the wedding is taking place in Red’s office, surely?
Except, I think he probably is, and that just about sums up both the Batemans and this sham of a marriage I’ve agreed to.
I continue walking, my legs heavy. It feels like the longest path I’ve ever trod - a long road with no turning back.
My mind flits to my parents, sister and brother. My Papà, especially.
Pushing away the threat of ungrateful tears, I remind myself they wouldn’t wish to witness this nightmare. In fact, Papà would not allow it. He’d probably kill Red Bateman first, and that would only make things worse.
Oscar suddenly stops, and I’m forced to do likewise before I slam into him. It’s then I realize Red’s office is mere yards away.
He turns, his face exhibiting watered-down traits of his elder brother, and pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. Without moving his eyes from mine, he unfolds it and hands it to me. “Sign it.”
I scan the typed words. “A prenuptial agreement?” I cry, insulted. “I don’t need Red’s money! I have my own!”
“No, yourfamilyhas money. You have nothing, and you’ll get nothing from them either if the truth gets out about what you did to Bristoni.” Oscar shoves a pen in my direction. “Even if, thanks to my brother, you succeed in getting away with it, don’t forget you’ll be cut off by your family once a Bateman ring is on your finger, so you need to sign this. You’re not getting your hands on our cash or property.”