Chapter 4

Gabby

We exchanged pleasantries. He told me his name was Nathan, and I told him mine was Gabriella.

The heavy oak doors of St. Michael’s Church groaned open, releasing a draft of cool air scented with frankincense, polished mahogany, and fresh white lilies.

I slid my hand into the crook of my fake fiancé’s arm. The muscle beneath his charcoal suit felt like carved granite. His steady heat radiated against my bare side, anchoring me as my four-inch heels clicked against the polished marble floor.

The organ music echoed off the vaulted ceiling, filling the high nave. But as we stepped past the rear pews, the music seemed to drown under a sudden, wave-like murmur that rippled through the seated guests.

Heads turned. Conversations faltered. Eyebrows shot up toward high stone arches.

In a sea of pastel chiffons, conservative navy suits, and traditional wedding attire, my crimson red silk dress flared like a strike of lightning. The plunging neckline and fitted silhouette hid nothing of my generous curves, claiming the space around me without an ounce of apology. But it wasn't just the dress that held every eye hostage—it was the man beside me.

Nathan walked with the effortless, lethal confidence of someone who owned the room before he even stepped into it. His jaw was set, his dark eyes fixed straight ahead, his tall frame towering over the rows of seated relatives.

I leaned in slightly, keeping my voice smooth so only he could hear. "They're staring."

"Let them," Nathan murmured, his deep voice vibrating against my forearm. A faint, wicked smile touched the corner of his lips. "You paid a thousand bucks for a show, sweetheart. Give them something worth looking at."

My chest swelled with a rush of adrenaline. I lifted my chin higher, relaxed my shoulders, and allowed a soft, secretive smile to touch my lips.

We glided down the side aisle toward the open pews near the front. Up at the altar, bathed in the colored light filtering through the stained-glass windows, stood Joel. He wore a crisp white tuxedo, his dark hair gelled to perfection, his arm looped around his bride, Titi, who looked radiant in a heavy lace ballgown.

Then Joel turned his head to scan the crowd—and caught sight of me.

His smile froze instantly. His eyes widened in absolute, dumbfounded shock, sweeping over my golden hair, my bold red lips, and the way the rich crimson silk hugged my waist and hips. His gaze slid to my arm linked tightly with Nathan’s, and the color drained completely from his face.

I felt the shift in him across thirty feet of open air. Eight months ago, he had looked at my bare skin with open disgust, telling me my body was too big to handle, confident that he had broken me forever. Now, he stared at me like a man who had thrown away a diamond, only to see it reset in gold.

"You know him, don't you?" Nathan asked softly, his sharp gaze cutting sideways to take in my expression.

"He's the reason we're here," I whispered back, my voice laced with steel.

Nathan’s hand came up, wrapping his long fingers over mine where they rested on his forearm. The gesture was gentle, protective, and unmistakably possessive.

The ceremony proceeded in a blur of soft words and choral music, but Joel was completely unraveling. Every three seconds, his eyes darted away from the priest, away from his glowing bride, searching the third row where Nathan and I sat close enough that our shoulders brushed. Joel stumbled over his vows twice, his voice cracking, his hands trembling as he forced the ring onto Titi’s finger.

When the priest finally pronounced them husband and wife, the applause erupted across the church, but Joel’s gaze remained glued to me as he led Titi back down the center aisle.

As they reached our row, Joel halted his procession entirely. Titi tugged at his arm, confused, but Joel ignored her, his dark eyes burning into mine.

"Gabby?" he breathed, his voice tight, brimming with unearned familiarity. "What... What are you doing here? And why are you wearing that?"

The sheer audacity of his question brought a cold, razor-sharp calm over me. I stepped out of the pew, smooth and unhurried, letting the full length of my crimson dress catch the sunlight.

"You invited me, Joel," I said, my voice carrying clearly across the quieted rows of guests behind him. "You sent a text asking me to come celebrate your big day. I merely brought a date."

Joel’s eyes flashed with anger, his gaze darting to Nathan, who stepped up right beside me, imposing and silent.

"You shouldn't have come like this," Joel hissed under his breath, leaning in so his bride wouldn't hear, his pride clearly wounded. "You're making a scene. You know how you look in that dress—it’s too much."

"No, Joel," I corrected softly, stepping closer so my red lips were inches from his face. "It was never too much. You were just far too small to handle it."

Joel gasped as if I’d struck him across the mouth. His jaw worked silently, his face flushing a mottled red.

Titi snapped her head toward him, her brows furrowed in suspicion. "Joel? Who is this woman? Why are you talking to her like that on our wedding day?!"

Before Joel could scramble for an excuse, Nathan placed a broad hand on the small of my back, pulling me subtly against his side. The heat of his palm sank straight through the silk, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Is there a problem here, Joel?" Nathan asked, his voice dropping into a low, authoritative rumble that instantly silenced the surrounding pews.

Joel spun toward Nathan, his eyes popping wide with a fresh wave of panic. "N-Nathan?! What are you—why are you with her?!"

I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. I looked up at the jawline of the man beside me, my mind racing to connect the dots. He knows Joel?

Nathan didn't look at me. He kept his dark, lethal gaze locked squarely on Joel, his chin raised in cold authority.

"I’m here attending my cousin’s wedding," Nathan said smoothly, his tone dripping with quiet dominance. "And supporting my fiancée."

The church went dead silent.

"Cousin?!" I blurted out before I could stop myself, my eyes darting between Nathan’s immaculate charcoal suit and Joel’s pale, sweat-streaked face.

Joel stared at Nathan as if he’d been slapped with a brick. "Fiancée?! Since when do you have a fiancée, Nathan? You were supposed to bring Lina!"

Nathan’s expression didn't flicker. A slow, dangerous smirk touched his lips as he tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer until my hip pressed against his thigh.

"Things change quickly, little cousin," Nathan said softly, his voice cutting through the heavy air. "Now, if you’ll excuse us, my gorgeous fiancée and I have a reception to attend."

Without waiting for a response, Nathan turned me gently, leading me past the stunned bride and groom, down the center aisle, and out into the bright afternoon sun.