I plaster on a fake smile, trying hard to keep myself strong. I can do this. I have to do this.
The farther we get down the aisle, the smaller my steps become, desperate to delay the inevitable, but if I was smart, I’d have run down the aisle and gotten it over and done with. The longer it takes, the worse I’m making it for myself.
We get to the top of the aisle when I finally see a familiar face.
Lucy Carroway.
Thank fuck.
She sits in the second row with tears heavy in her eyes and her mother's hand on her thigh. To anyone else, it would appear as a loving gesture, but I know better. Her mother is holding her in place, ensuring she doesn’t do anything stupid.
We’d both be dead by the time we reached the end of the aisle, but maybe it would be worth it. Not Luce though, she still has so much to live for. She’s going to go so far in life and it's going to be incredible to watch. Besides, I need her to stick around because with me now living in hell, I need someone to live through and keep me going. Without Slade, I’ve got nothing to live for.
I know the pain of missing him might ease one day, but so far, I’ve been missing my mom and dad for thirteen years and it still aches. I doubt it will be any different with Slade.
Luce desperately tries to blink back tears and the more she looks at me, the harder it gets to keep moving. She goes to mouth something and I tear my eyes away. I can’t. No matter what she says, if it’s words of encouragement or telling me to run, I’m going to break.
I can’t handle it. This is too much.
I’m about to marry against my will. Slade would be devastated…disappointed. He would say that I’m better than this shit. He would tell me to run and never look back. He would tell me not only to survive but to thrive.
Damn him. What does it matter? He’s gone now.
I step up in front of my future husband and as if handing me over like a proud father, Lucien puts my hand in Marcus’. It’s clammy and warm and I don’t miss Lucien’s low warning as he nods to Marcus and steps back. “Hold her tight.”
Marcus’s grip instantly doubles to the point of pain and I hold back a loud gasp, trying my hardest to appear as though I want to be here but judging by the faces of the people in the crowd, they know this isn’t right.
They see the fear in my eyes and I see the sorrow and devastation shining back in theirs, but not one of them will do a damn thing about it because I can guarantee that Lucien has all of them on a tight leash. People in this town aren’t good people. They’re rich and entitled which gives them the sense that they can do whatever the fuck they want. They’re just like Lucien. Some of them worse, some of them not so bad, but no matter what, they all have secrets, secrets that Lucien makes it his business to know.
The music begins to soften until it completely disappears and as it does, the priest steps up between me and Marcus.
He looks out at the wedding guests. “Please, take your seats.”
There’s the usual rumble as the guests drop down onto their asses, getting comfortable and shuffling around in their ridiculous, over-the-top suits and dresses. Ankles are crossed with knees tilted, children are shushed, while husbands pretend that their mistresses aren’t sitting two rows behind.
I swallow hard. This is it.
Maria lets out a blissful, loud sigh, drawing all the attention to the proud mother of the bride. I can practically hear all the eyes rolling. She’s so fucking desperate for approval, praise, and attention. How was my luck so bad to have ended up with her?
The priest gets started, reciting passages from the bible and describing the meaning of marriage and love but with every word he speaks, I die a little more inside.
Before I have a chance to stop them, the tears start falling and within the blink of an eye, Marcus’ hand snakes out and slaps across my face. I gasp in horror. I wasn’t expecting that. Maybe from Maria or Lucien, but not from Marcus…I mean, not right here at least. I don’t doubt he would have punished me behind closed doors. It was a ballsy move, especially in front of all these people.
Gasps are heard throughout the church and the priest takes a step toward me, clutching onto my arm as if to pull me away, but I hold my ground.
Whispers are heard throughout the pews and even Luce has the balls to fly to her feet. “Hey,” she demands, making Marcus’ head whip around to her. “Don’t you fucking touch her, scumbag.”
Luce’s father instantly curls his fingers around her arm and pulls her down so hard that she crashes back into the pew, nearly falling to the ground.
Marcus grins at their performance and turns back to the priest. “Continue.”
The priest flashes his eyes to me. He doesn’t want to do this. He knows this is wrong, he knows I’m being forced, but more importantly, he doesn’t want to sin in the house of his father. Maybe if he knew that I was already lost to the big man upstairs, it might make it easier for him.
Seeing his reluctance, Lucien stands from his seat in the very front row and clears his throat. The priest stares at him and as Lucien raises a smug brow, the priest releases my arm and positions himself between us.
There goes my last hope. Not even God can save me now.
I zone out, spending every second staring at Marcus’ chest and forcing myself not to cry. If I meet his eyes, I’m fucked. If I meet Luce’s, I’m screwed and if I meet Lucien’s or Maria’s, I might just murder someone in the middle of a church. Or at least, I’ll try to. Lucien would probably electrocute me before I got the chance.
The priest's voice rings out loud and clear, much louder than at any wedding I’ve ever been to before. “Does anybody have a reason why these two people should not be wed?”
My head whips around, begging at least one person to stand up and save me from a life of torture, but not one person speaks up. I look back at Luce and I see her desperation as she also looks around, but seeing that the guests are going to allow this atrocity to continue, determination has her ready to make a move.
She meets my eyes and I shake my head. ‘Don’t,’ I mouth, silently begging her not to. She and I both know what will happen to her if she was to ruin this for Maria and Lucien. Hell, even her father has a tight grip on her. He’s practically sitting on her lap, holding her down while her mother, on her other side, still keeps her hand firmly on her thigh.
Defeat claims her and I watch the pain enter her eyes. There’s nothing she can do without paying for it with her life. ‘I’m sorry.’
Marcus tugs hard on my hand and my head whips up to him to see a heavy scowl as he prompts me to pay attention.
“Alright, then we shall continue with the vows.”
Maria lets out a shaky breath of relief, nearly inaudible to the rest of the guests and I realize this was the one moment she was waiting for, the moment that could make or break this wedding.
My reluctance has Marcus tightening his grip on my hand and I bite down on my lip, stopping myself from screaming out as he practically breaks the bones in my hand. When he finally loosens his grip, I turn to the priest, unable to look at Marcus as I speak.
“Repeat after me, dear,” the priest murmurs, waiting for me to nod. “I, Skylah Rochelle Valentine, take thee, Marcus Donald Mahony, to be my husband from this day forward.”
I cringe at the sound of that name. That’s not my name. It’s the one Lucien had my name changed to. I am not a Valentine. I am a Daniels. Always have been and always will be…it’s not like I’m ever going to be a Cruz. That dream died right along with Slade.