3: Before I Become His Wife

Nina

There should be a support group for women who are being forced to marry assholes.

I would be the founding member.

Surviving Your Billionaire Husband Before the Wedding Even Happens.

Catchy.

I stare at myself in the mirror of the bridal boutique and fight the urge to laugh.

The dress is beautiful.

Absolutely beautiful.

Ivory silk hugs my waist before falling into a dramatic train behind me. The neckline is elegant, the fabric soft against my skin, and the tiny crystals sewn into the bodice catch the light whenever I move.

Any normal bride would probably cry.

I want to set the dress on fire.

“How do you feel?” the stylist asks excitedly.

“Like I’m attending my own funeral.”

She blinks.

My mother gives me a look.

I smile.

“Sorry. I mean…beautiful.”

Kimora snorts from the couch.

I glance at her.

She has been my best friend long enough to know when I’m lying.

The stylist smiles again.

“You look stunning.”

“Thank you.”

I turn toward the mirror.

Three months.

That was how long I had.

Three months until I became Mrs. Alex Sterling.

The thought makes my stomach twist.

Not because I was afraid of marriage.

Because I was afraid of him.

Alex had always been impossible.

Now he was going to be my husband.

My husband.

The word feels ridiculous in my head.

“Take it off,” I say.

The stylist looks horrified.

“Excuse me?”

“I hate it.”

My mother sighs.

“Nina.”

“What?”

“You haven’t even tried the veil.”

“I don’t need a veil. I need an escape route.”

Kimora bursts out laughing.

“Finally. Someone said it.”

My mother glares at her.

Kimora raises both hands.

“I’m just supporting my friend.”

I step out of the dress.

The moment I’m back in my robe, Kimora follows me toward the changing room.

The second the curtain closes behind us, she grabs my arm.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“You need to tell me everything.”

“I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

I look away.

She lowers her voice.

“What happened between you and Alex?”

I hesitate.

That’s the problem.

I don’t even know how to explain it.

Because the truth is, there are pieces of this marriage I don’t understand myself.

My father’s debt.

The contract.

Alex’s strange confidence.

And whatever he meant when he told me I’d only seen part of the agreement.

“I don’t know,” I finally whisper.

Kimora studies me.

“You don’t know?”

“I know I hate him.”

“That part is obvious.”

“I know our families arranged this.”

“Also obvious.”

“And I know Alex is hiding something.”

Her expression changes.

“Something bad?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did he tell you?”

“No.”

“Did you ask?”

“I tried.”

“And?”

“He gave me that stupid look.”

“What stupid look?”

I imitate Alex’s expression.

Kimora stares at me for a second.

Then starts laughing.

“Stop!”

“I’m sorry.” She wipes her eyes. “You actually do his face perfectly.”

“I hate him.”

“You’ve mentioned.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

She pauses.

Then her eyes narrow.

“But…”

“But what?”

“You keep saying his name.”

I freeze.

“I have to. I’m marrying him.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Kimora.”

She smiles.

“You’re curious about him.”

“No.”

“Liar.”

I push past her.

“I’m curious about how I’m going to survive three months with a man who is a world-certified asshole.”

She laughs.

“That sounds more like it.”

We walk back into the boutique.

The stylist has already brought out another dress.

This one is completely different.

Black.

My eyes widen.

“No.”

My mother smiles.

“Yes.”

The stylist helps me into it.

When I step out, everyone goes quiet.

The dress fits like it was made for me.

Black satin.

Thin straps.

A daring slit climbing along my thigh.

Elegant.

Dangerous.

I stare at myself.

For the first time today, I don’t hate a dress.

Kimora’s mouth falls open.

“Oh.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“What?”

She looks me up and down.

“If Alex sees you in that, the wedding might become very interesting.”

Heat rises into my cheeks.

“Kimora!”

“What? I’m just saying.”

I look at myself again.

And, annoyingly, I imagine Alex standing behind me.

His eyes travelling over the dress.

His expression changing.

That irritating little smile appearing.

I immediately shake the thought away.

Absolutely not.

I will not let that man invade my imagination.

“He doesn’t get to see this,” I say.

Kimora grins.

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t deserve it.”

I turn toward the mirror.

Then I notice something.

A small envelope has been placed on the table beside my mother.

My name is written across it.

Nina.

My smile disappears.

“What’s that?”

My mother looks at the envelope.

“I don’t know.”

I walk toward it.

Before I can pick it up, my phone vibrates.

Unknown number.

One message.

You should really stop pretending you don’t want to know the truth.

My heart pounds.

Another message appears.

Ask Alex why he chose you.

I stare at the screen.

Kimora notices my face.

“What happened?”

I slowly look up.

“I think…”

My voice catches.

“I think someone knows something about this marriage that I don’t.”

And suddenly, the beautiful black dress doesn’t feel exciting anymore.

It feels like a warning.