Chapter 3

Veils and Warnings

The mansion had turned into a full blown circus by ten in the morning. Makeup artists, hairstylists, and florists buzzed around like bees on caffeine. I sat in front of a huge vanity mirror while a woman named Celeste curled my hair into soft waves, but my mind was nowhere near the wedding.

Mom twirled in her ivory gown behind me, looking radiant and completely in love. “Baby, doesn’t this dress make me look twenty-five again? Alexander is going to lose his mind when he sees me walking down the aisle.”

“You look beautiful, Mom,” I said, forcing a genuine smile. “Truly. Like a dream.”

She came over and hugged me from behind, careful not to ruin the makeup. “And you’re going to look incredible in that bridesmaid dress. Emerald green is perfect with your skin tone. Alexander picked it himself, you know.”

My stomach flipped.

“He did?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

“Yes! He said it would bring out your eyes. Isn’t that thoughtful?” She checked her phone for the hundredth time. “I need to go see the cake. Don’t move, Celeste is a genius. I’ll be back in twenty!”

The moment she disappeared, the room felt ten times quieter. Celeste worked in silence for a few minutes before excusing herself to grab more pins. I was alone for the first time since breakfast.

The door clicked open behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Everyone’s running around like the world is ending,” Alexander said, his deep voice filling the space. He closed the door with a soft click and leaned against it, watching me through the mirror. He was already in a tailored black suit, looking unfairly powerful and composed.

I met his eyes in the reflection. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere else? Groom duties or whatever?”

He smirked, pushing off the door and walking closer. “I told them I needed a moment to breathe. They bought it.” He stopped right behind my chair, close enough that I could smell his cologne sandalwood and something darker. “We never finished our conversation from breakfast.”

My pulse quickened. “About last night?”

“Among other things.” His hands rested on the back of my chair, fingers brushing my shoulders lightly. “Look at me, Elara.”

I turned slowly in the seat. Up close, those gray eyes were stormy. “This is crazy, Alexander. In a few hours, you’re marrying my mother. I shouldn’t even be talking to you alone right now.”

“Yet here we are.” He crouched slightly so we were eye level, one hand gripping the arm of my chair. “I’ve been telling myself the same thing since you stepped out of that car yesterday. You’re twenty. My soon to be stepdaughter. Off limits in every fucking way that matters.”

“Then why did you touch me under the table?” I challenged, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you come to the kitchen last night looking at me like… like that?”

His jaw tightened. “Because I’m selfish. Because the second you called me Daddy in that sweet voice, something in me snapped.” He reached up, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my neck. “You feel it too. Don’t lie to me, little girl.”

I shivered at the nickname. “Even if I do… it doesn’t matter. Mom is happy. Really happy. I haven’t seen her like this in years.”

“I know.” His expression darkened with conflict. “Lydia deserves happiness. But the way I look at you has nothing to do with her. This pull between us? It started the moment I saw your picture months ago. Meeting you in person only made it worse.”

My breath caught. “You saw my picture before?”

“Several. Your mother talks about you constantly.” A small, dangerous smile crossed his lips. “She has no idea what she brought into my house.”

The sound of laughter and footsteps echoed down the hall. Alexander straightened quickly but didn’t move far. He rested one hand on my shoulder, thumb stroking lightly.

“We can’t do this,” I whispered, even as I leaned into his touch just a fraction. “Whatever this is. It has to stop before it starts.”

“Is that what you want?” He leaned down, his lips close to my ear. “Tell me honestly, Elara. When you look at me, do you see your mother’s husband… or do you see the man who wants to pin you against the nearest wall and hear you call him Daddy again?”

My cheeks burned. Before I could answer, the door handle rattled.

“Elara? Are you decent?” Mom’s voice called from outside.

Alexander pulled back instantly, moving to the window like he’d been admiring the garden the whole time. My heart hammered so hard I was sure it was visible.

“Come in!” I called, voice shaky.

Mom burst in, glowing. “The photographer wants some pre wedding shots of you and Alexander together. Family bonding, he said. Isn’t that perfect timing?”

“Perfect,” Alexander echoed smoothly, turning with a charming smile. Only I could see the heat still burning in his eyes. “Shall we, Elara?”

We followed Mom downstairs to the garden where the photographer waited near a rose arch. Alexander placed his hand on my lower back as we posed respectable, fatherly, but his fingers pressed possessively into the fabric of my dress.

“Smile for the camera,” he murmured, voice low enough for only me. “Pretend you don’t want my hands somewhere else.”

The photographer clicked away. “Closer! Like real family.”

Alexander pulled me gently against his side, his arm wrapping around my waist. His thumb traced small circles on my hip where no one could see.

“Relax,” he whispered, lips brushing my temple as the camera flashed. “You’re trembling.”

“Because this is wrong,” I whispered back through my smile. “And you’re making it worse.”

He chuckled softly. “Good. Because after tonight, little girl, we’re going to have a real conversation. No more pretending.”

Mom beamed at us from the side. “You two look wonderful together! My perfect little family.”

As the photographer called for one more shot, Alexander leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear.

“Tonight,” he promised darkly. “After the reception… my office. Don’t make me come find you.”

My knees nearly buckled.

The camera flashed again, capturing my wide-eyed expression perfectly.