Page 39 of Devious Kingpin
“Okay,” I said. My voice sounded strange to my ears. Almost resigned. Low and tired. “Good night.”
I headed to my room. Tomorrow would require the patience of a saint.
And God knew, I wasn’t a saint.
CHAPTER18
Juliette
“Rise and shine, blushing bride!”
Wynter’s cheery voice woke me up and I let out a frustrated groan. Not even bothering to answer her or even open my eyelids, I turned onto my stomach and buried my head under the pillow.
“Come on,” Davina urged. “We don’t have all day. Your father threatened to come here and dress you himself if we don’t get you ready on time. So get your ass out of bed.”
“That’d be awkward as fuck,” I mumbled, my voice muffled against the pillow.
“I don’t think he was joking, Jules,” Ivy chimed in.
Someone snatched the pillow off my head and threw it across the hotel floor. I turned to my side and popped open an eyelid to find my girlfriends standing there all dressed up as bridesmaids.
“You look like you’re getting ready to go to the circus,” I hissed.
“Tell me about it,” Emory grumbled. “You’re married already. Why in the fuck do I need to wear a dress now?”
My lips curved despite this fucked-up situation. Truthfully, they didn’t look bad. All four of them wore blue minidresses. Wynter’s front looked like she stuck a balloon into it, but other than that, she looked fabulous too.
A knocked-up bridesmaid, I snickered silently. There had to be bad luck in that. Right?
“Here, have a drink.” Ivy shoved a champagne flute in my face with a grin. “It helps with nerves.”
Ugh, I wanted to roll over and hide. Under the bed. In the bathroom. Anywhere, but here.
Pushing the glass of champagne out of my face, I said, “No, thank you. Alcohol got me into this fucking mess. So no more of that shit for me.”
Silence followed. Glances were shared.
They didn’t believe me. It didn’t matter. I would never touch alcohol again. Things could have ended badly that night. Really, really badly.
I rolled out of bed, grinding my molars and keeping my temper in check. Rage blistered through my veins, demanding I explode. But I’d be a “good” daughter for once and not cause a scene. Maybe my father would finally be proud of me.
Passing all the girls on my way to the bathroom, I ignored their glances and their enthusiasm. Their heels clicked against the hardwood, following me to the bathroom and I quickly locked the door. I would at least shower on my own.
“Hey, let us help you,” Wynter protested through the keyhole.
“I can shower myself,” I retorted back, turning the shower on. “I’ve been doing it for years in case you didn’t know.”
I stepped in the cold shower and let the water cool my rage, until it turned too hot which ended up scalding my skin. I winced but didn’t adjust the temperature. Maybe this would wash off my filth. My sins.
A shudder rolled through me, along with the panic that was suffocating me.
If Dante forced himself on me tonight, I didn’t think I would be able to handle it. Images flashed through my mind.
Ugly. Dirty. Painful. Shameful.
I cranked the heat of the water by a few more degrees and closed my eyes, letting it burn my skin. This had to be what hell felt like.
By the time I was done and dry, my skin was red and my face flushed. I fully expected to see blisters on my skin, but my expression in the mirror reflected the same old me. Clear skin, slightly pink from the hot shower. Auburn hair soaking wet, droplets of water at the tips. High cheekbones. And the same blue eyes with dark circles under them, evidence of my fatigue.
