Page 71 of Do It For Me
Once I’m finally ready, Mum holds my face. Her eyes water again, and she’s about to say something when my father comes in and says, “It’s time to go, girls.”
She keeps staring at me, her eyes shimmering with emotion. She looks beautiful. We’ve been here for what feels like hours, getting our makeup and hair done, but something about her expression unsettles me.
If my father had done something to her, she would have told us, right?
“It’s going to be late,” she finally says. “Let’s go.”
The car stops in front of the church. My stomach twists, and tears threaten to spill—just nerves. Dante will be waiting for me.We just have to do this, and then it’s done. So why does it feel so impossible in my head?
I step out of the car. The church doors are closed, and only my father stands outside. Mum arrived earlier to be seated inside. I would have preferred her to walk me down the aisle, but my father insisted that traditions were important.
Reluctantly, I take his hand.
“You look beautiful,püppchen.”
My stomach churns. After the wedding, I won’t see him again. Tomorrow, I’ll have my own life, I’ll be with the man I love—the man who has taken better care of me in three months than anyone ever has in my entire life. Tomorrow, he’ll be—
“Listen to me, gorgeous,” my father says, patting my hand as we walk toward the doors. “We have men ready to shoot. Behind your mother will be a guy with a gun pointed right at her heart, so you’ll be a good girl and marry that man inside, or there will be blood on your hands.”
“You don’t need to threaten me.”
He smiles. “Oh, I think I do.”
The doors open. I look down at my feet, trying not to be overwhelmed by the guests.
I’m about to marry the man I love—the one who would give me everything if I asked him to. What else could I ask for? I’ll spend the rest of my life with him. He’ll make me happy.
Dante will be mine, and I will be his. Forever.
I look up, searching for him, my heart pounding with excitement, but it plummets when I don’t find him at the altar.
In his place, there’s an older man. Almost blond, but not quite. His face is sharp yet soft, clean-shaven, with slicked-back hair. His eyes are a shade of green darker than mine.
Where’s Dante? I was hoping to see him, not this man. I don’t even know who he is.
My father delivers me, and after kissing my cheek, he whispers, “I warned you. Though you did perfectly,püppchen. Dante prepared you well.”
I want to throw up.
Hepreparedme? He wasn’t going to marry me?
I fell in love with a lie?
No. This can’t be.
The man in front of me takes my hand.
I need to find Dante. I need to get out of—
My mum stares at me, panic etched on her face, tears streaming down her cheeks as my father holds her hand with a triumphant smile.
I look to the guests, desperately searching for my real fiancé, but he’s nowhere to be found.
The man’s grip tightens on my hand, and I’m forced to focus on him. His gaze sends a shiver down my spine.
“You look gorgeous, Lana.”
His Russian accent isn’t too thick, but where the hell is my Italian?
