For a moment, it’s like time stops, and I can’t move. My feet won’t physically step forward.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Aleksy warns, pulling me back into reality and extending his arm toward me.
I nudge him with my elbow, a silentfuck youthat only the two of us sees, and then loop mine through his. If we weren’t in public, I wouldn’t dare do that. But Aleksy needs something from me.
I hold in my breath as we walk down the aisle, not even turning my head to look at the guests seated in the pews.
The priest stands at that altar.
A symbol of sanctity that I’m about to defile with lies.
When we reach him, Aleksy leans in to kiss my cheek. It takes everything I have not to push him away.
Aleksy offers his hand to Emilio.
Emilio takes it without even glancing in my brother’s direction. He shakes it dismissively, and Aleksy takes a seat beside my mother in the front pew.
As I stand across from Emilio and stare at him through the veil, he watches me with suspicion.
I shut my eyes, feeling like I can read his mind.
This isn’t the bride I signed on the dotted line for.
I keep my eyes closed, remembering the first and only time we’ve spoken.
It was two weeks ago at their engagement party. Emilio had hardly glanced or spoken to Dasha. When he did look in her direction, it was with cold glares, as if she were the one forcing him to marry her.
He wasn’t just quiet with her. He was silent with everyone, ignoring all small talk, even with the Lombardis. He only spoke when words were necessary.
It wasn’t until after dinner that he pulled Dasha aside. I crept toward them to eavesdrop. His tone was low, and I couldn’t make out his words. Dasha looked terrified at whatever he was saying, though.
When he was finished playing bully and turned to leave, he walked straight into me.
The air left my lungs, like I’d slammed into a concrete statue.
I stumbled back, catching myself at the last second before falling on my ass. As I slowly lifted my gaze to his, my heart hammered in my chest as my eyes met wicked ones.
They were dark and narrow, like he was already reading my soul.
I gulped in fear while taking in every inch of him.
His face was heaven, and his heart hell.
He was made for art with his sharp jawline and high cheekbones, peppered with scruff.
Chills spread over my body, and I couldn’t form words.
He didn’t speak, just towered over me and stared with those unsettling eyes. I gulped again, begging myself to run away, but I couldn’t.
There was something about his stare.
It was deadly, yes, but also different.
Emilio looked at me differently than he did Dasha.
He stared like I’d wronged him in another life and he’d been waiting for the right moment to punish me for it.
Since I couldn’t seem to run, I stood there and glowered at him.
