4. Want to Kidnap You Back, Angel

“What are you—” I scrambled to stand, clutching the edge of the vanity for balance. “You—you’re not supposed to be here.”

He stepped inside like he owned the place, the door clicking shut behind him. “Didn’t I say I’d be at your wedding?”

My heart lodged somewhere between my throat and the pit of my stomach. “No. No, no—this can’t be happening.”

“Looks like it is.”

“How—how did you even find me?”

The stranger arched an eyebrow, like it was the most ridiculous question I could’ve asked. “I just asked front desk for the bill of the room where you fucked my brain out. Gave her my best smile. She told me Lorraine Redmond already paid for it.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s it? They just told you?”

“People talk when you look like you own the building,” he said with a shrug, the ghost of a grin curling his lips. “Besides, once I had your name, it didn’t take much. Quick search online. Your fiancé is apparently a rising star in the business world. Ezra Borken, right? Rich, not that handsome, kind of a big jackass?”

I swallowed hard. “You stalked me online?”

He grinned, unapologetic. “There are many worse things that could happen.”

“You need to leave. Right now,” I said, fingers gripping the vanity like it was the only solid thing left in the room. “You can’t be here. There are people—there’s a plan—”

He arched his brow. “What plan?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. My pulse raced ahead of me. My chest seized.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Breathe, Angel.”

My voice cracked, brittle and panicked. “I’m breathing—“

He was already moving before I could finish.

“No—don’t,” I gasped, stumbling back, hitting the mirror. “Stay away—”

But he didn’t listen.

He came closer. Towering. Calm. All dark heat and slow danger. He moved like gravity didn’t apply to him, like rules never had. One of his hands landed on my waist, the other catching my jaw with maddening precision. “Eyes on me.”

I did. I couldn’t not. Those eyes swallowed everything.

“I told myself I shouldn’t do this,” he said, voice low, almost self-directed. “But then you dress like this. Like you dared me to.”

My pulse skittered. “This is wrong. You shouldn’t—”

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’m not staying. I just came for one thing.”

And then he kissed me.

There was nothing soft about it.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet.

It was a claim. Feral and starved. Like he’d been waiting days, weeks, burning for it.

His mouth crashed against mine, stealing my breath, my thoughts, my name. It should’ve scared me. Maybe it did. But my traitorous body weakly moved on its own.

I kissed him back. Without thinking. Without breathing.

And that was the worst part.

Because when I came back to myself, I shoved him away like he’d burned me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He stumbled a step, catching himself, a lazy grin playing on his lips. “God, I’ve been thinking about that all week.”

“You—you kissed me!” I hissed.

“And you kissed me back.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

He laughed, dark and low, and it curled through me like smoke. “Sure. That’s what makes it fun.”

My face was on fire. “You had no right—”

“Didn’t get the chance last time, remember?” he said, licking his bottom lip like he was tasting me all over again. “I was tied to the bed. Hood over my head. Gag in my mouth. Hell of a first date, by the way.”

My jaw dropped. Horror washed over me in a fresh wave. “That was a mistake.”

He grinned. “Best mistake ever happened to me.”

I stepped back, shaking my head like I could shake him out of it. “You need to leave.”

He didn’t budge. Just kept watching me like he could still taste me. “Relax, Angel. I’m not here to ruin anything. I’m not even supposed to know your name.”

“Then why?” I asked, voice hoarse, unraveling. “Why come?”

His voice dropped, lower than before. “Because I wanted to kiss you. Really kiss you. I wanted to know what your lips tasted like when you weren’t mistaking me for someone else.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was afraid of what my silence admitted.

He straightened his cuffs like this was casual. Like he hadn’t just undone me in thirty seconds flat. He turned to the left, but paused at the door. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a line when it comes to married women.”

His eyes raked me once more. Dark. Starless. Undone.

“Still,” he added with a crooked smirk, “You make a hell of a bride, Angel. Makes me want to kidnap you back. Only fair, don’t you think?”

Then he was gone.

And I was left alone, lipstick ruined, heart bruised, and terrified that the part of me that kissed him back wasn’t regretful.

It was hungry for more.

Then the door opened again.

“Rainey?” Sadie’s voice.

I whipped around, too fast. “What?”

She blinked at me, her brows pulling together. “Was that someone here just now? Tall. Dark hair. Looked like trouble.”

My stomach dropped to my knees. “No one,” I said quickly. Too quickly. “Just, wrong room. I told him to leave.”

Sadie narrowed her eyes at me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, though.”

“Because I have,” I snapped, and immediately winced. “Sorry. Just nerves.”

Her gaze swept over me. Lipstick clearly ruined. Me looking like a mess. Her frown deepened. “He didn’t—Rainey, did he do something? Should I get someone?”

“No!” I snapped, then quickly softened my tone. “No. I mean… nothing happened. It’s fine.”

Sadie didn’t budge. She stepped closer, eyes scanning me like a crime scene. “You’re trembling.”

I looked down.

My hands were shaking indeed.

She caught them gently but firmly, her tone turning serious. “Rainey. I just passed the bar. Don’t make me cross-examine you like a hostile witness.”

I swallowed. Hard.

Her voice lowered. “Did that guy do something to you? Because I saw him leave just now and he didn’t look like someone who came to wish you happiness.”

“It’s not like that.”

She held my gaze. Sharp. Assessing. Her fingers tightened slightly around mine. And then her eyes widened just a bit. “Wait a minute. No. No way. Rainey…”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

Her voice went razor quiet. “Is that him? The stranger? From last week?”

“Sadie, don’t—”

“Oh my God.” Her mouth parted slightly, her tone pitched between disbelief and awe. “Lorraine. Tall. Sinister-hot. Silent type with the scar on his cheek—that guy?”

My face burned.

She stepped back half a pace, like she needed space to absorb it. “I knew something was off. You’ve been walking around like your soul got snatched. I just didn’t connect the dots.”

“Because we were dealing with Ezra cheating on Meredith!” I hissed, the words tumbling out too fast. “I didn’t have time to explain. I thought I’d never see him again.”

“You kidnapped him, Rainey.”

“Your guys did. Accidentally!”

“And then slept with him.”

“Thanks to your candle-lit hotel room and two glasses of wine idea.”

“And now he shows up minutes before your wedding looking like a walking felony?!” Sadie looked like she wanted to laugh. “What’s his name?”

“How should I know?”

Sadie’s jaw dropped. “You could’ve just asked!”

“I was trying to forget it even happened.”

She ran a hand through her freshly curled hair, the lawyer in her clearly battling the best friend. “Jesus, Rainey. You don’t think maybe he’s here to—?”

“He kissed me.”

Sadie blinked. “Okay. He’s definitely not over it.”

“Worse.” My voice cracked. “I kissed him back.”

“Oh, babe.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I added quickly. “It just… happened.”

“Yeah, well. That explains the look on your face, but we’ll deal with him later.” Sadie fixed my lipstick, smoothing my dress like she could erase the chaos out of me. Her voice gentled. “Right now, you need to breathe. Walk. Smile. Pretend like you didn’t just make out with a stranger you fucked in ropes.”

My laugh came out hollow. “Not helping.”

***

The music was soft. Rows of ivory-covered chairs lined the courtyard, every last one occupied by someone powerful or painfully obsessed with seeming powerful. Politicians. CEOs. Legacy brats with trust funds bigger than most countries’ GDPs. And, of course, the ever-smiling media elite, ready to devour the fairy tale.

They were all here for our big day.

Ezra and Lorraine. The golden couple. A match made in spreadsheets and cocktail parties.

The decor was stunning, truly. White roses cascading from the arches, crystal chandeliers swaying like overgrown earrings above our heads, soft candlelight that made even the sharpest scandals look romantic.

But I wasn’t here to play the bride.

Not the kind they were expecting.

Gasps fluttered through the crowd the moment I stepped into view. Delicious, scandalized gasps.

Because I wasn’t wearing white. I wore black. Backless. Fitted. Slippery like a sin, with a trail that hissed behind me like a well-fed shadow. It clung to my body like revenge, and I made damn sure every single person saw it.

Ezra’s mother, bless her Botoxed soul, stiffened so hard I thought she might snap in half. Her lips formed a thin, horrified line, and she looked two seconds away from demanding holy water.

My mother whispered frantically to my father, likely wondering how quickly they could disown me and still keep their reputation intact.

I didn’t look at them. My eyes were fixed forward. On him.

And her.

“Lorry,” my father leaned toward me, his voice a blade disguised as a whisper. “What is this? You look like you’re going to a funeral.”

I turned to him slowly, calmly. “I am.”