CHAPTER THREE   CARISSA’S POV

My head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache before I even opened my eyes. I reached up to touch the side of my face, wincing at the sore spot near my temple where Mateo had hit me.

When I finally blinked my eyes open, I wasn't in the hallway or outside in the mud. I was sitting on a plush stool inside a brightly lit dressing room. Four older women and a young girl who looked about my age were standing around me.

The younger girl stepped forward, holding out a glass of water and a small white pill.

"Take this," she said softly. "It is aspirin. It will help your head."

I stared at the pill, keeping my hands glued to my lap. "I'm not taking that. I don't know what it is."

One of the older women, a tall lady with silver hair, let out a loud sigh and shook her head. "Listen to me, girl," she said in broken English. "If we wanted to poison you or hurt you, we would have done it while you were passed out on the floor. Take the medicine. You will need it for the ceremony. No bride wants to walk down the aisle with a horrible headache."

At the mention of the word bride, my brain clicked into place as the memories slammed right back. I looked down at myself and gasped.

The red silk dress was gone. I was already wearing the heavy, intricate white wedding dress. The corseted bodice was pulled tight around my waist, and the full lace skirt flared out over my legs. They had dressed me while I was unconscious.

Panic hit me like a brick. "No! No, no, no!" I stood up fast, almost tripping on the long hem. "I am not a bride! I don't belong here! You have to listen to me! I was brought here under false pretenses!"

The older women just watched me with calm, almost pitying expressions.

"You will do well here," the silver-haired woman said gently, adjusting the lace strap on my shoulder. "Don't worry so much. The boss is really a nice man."

"Nice?" I choked out. "He hit me! He knocked me out!"

She didn't answer. She just patted my cheek, waved her hand at the other older women, and led them out of the room. They shut the heavy wooden door behind them, leaving only the younger girl inside with me.

I turned to the girl. She flinched slightly, her eyes wide as she held the glass of water.

I stepped closer and grabbed her hands. "Please. Please help me."

"I can't," she whispered, looking down at the floor.

"What is your name?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay calm.

"Gilly," she said quietly.

"Gilly, look at me," I pleaded. "I was kidnapped. I was lied to. Please, tell me how to get out of here. Is there a back door? A gate that isn't locked?"

Gilly shook her head fast, pulling her hands out of my grip. "No. I cannot help a bride run away. It is bad luck for the whole house. Bad things happen."

"Gilly, please!"

"I am sorry," Gilly said. She backed away toward the door, opened it just wide enough to slide through, and pulled it shut. The click of the seemingly heavy latch echoed in the room.

I was locked in. Dressed and adorned like a freaking exotic cow.

"Damn it!" I screamed, kicking the bottom of the door with my bare foot. Pain shot through my toes, and I stumbled back, pacing around the room like a trapped animal.

My mind was racing. I needed a phone. I needed to call someone. Not Marcus—Marcus was the traitor who put me in this mess. I thought of my loyal clients back home. Mr. Henderson? No, he was a coward. David from the firm? He only cared about looking good at business dinners. None of them were going to fly to Brazil to fight a crime boss for me.

I was completely on my own.

The door handle rattled, and the heavy door swung open.

Mateo walked into the room. He had changed into a crisp black tuxedo with a black bow tie. His dark hair was combed back, though a few stray strands fell over his forehead. He stopped near the doorway and looked at me.

"A groom isn't supposed to see the bride before the ceremony," Mateo said, his deep voice filling the small room. "It's bad luck. I had to argue with the women outside just to come in here."

Seeing his face made my blood boil. The fear in my chest instantly turned into pure rage.

"You bastard!" I yelled.

I launched myself across the room, raising my hands to strike his chest, aiming straight for his face.

Mateo didn't even flinch. Before my hands could land, he caught both of my wrists in one broad palm. He spun me around, slammed my back flat against the wall, and stepped directly into my space.

His body was like a wall of hard muscle. He pressed himself tightly against me to keep me from moving, trapping my pinned hands between our chests.

I gasped as the sudden friction send a strange, burning shockwave straight through my stomach. I tried to twist my hips to wriggle free, but as soon as I moved against him, Mateo let out a low, rough groan.

His free hand moved quickly, wrapping around my waist with a firm, heavy grip that locked me completely in place against the wall.

I froze instantly.

My heart was hammer-pounding in my chest, not just from anger, but from the sudden, intense heat radiating off his body. I could feel the hard line of his chest against mine, the roughness of his stubble inches from my cheek, and the sudden tension in his muscles.

It took me three seconds to realize exactly why he had held me so still.

My face flushed bright red.

Mateo leaned down, his mouth right next to my ear. His breath was warm against my skin.

"Don't start something you cannot finish, Carissa," he whispered softly.

"You're a pervert!" I spat out, leaning my head back against the wall to get away from him.

Mateo chuckled. It was a low, dark sound that vibrated right against my ribs. "You should get used to this."

"No!" I yelled. "No, I won't get used to this! I don't even know you! How can you expect me to marry a man I was sold to?"

Mateo stopped laughing. He pulled his head back slightly so he could look down into my eyes. His expression turned serious.

"Most successful marriages come from the fact that neither party knows each other well," he said coldly. "And for the record, you were not sold to me... entirely. There are things you don't understand yet."

"Then explain them!" I demanded. "Explain why I was dragged onto a plane and forced into a wedding dress!"

"I will explain later," Mateo said. "Right now, you need to come outside with me and get married."

I set my jaw, lifting my chin to glare at him with everything I had. "And what if I refuse? What if I stand right here and say no?"

Mateo’s eyes narrowed slightly. A slow, dangerous smirk appeared on his lips.

"If you refuse, I will simply get another bride," he said, his voice flat and nonchalant. "And I will dispose of you in a heartbeat."

The room went dead silent.

The way he said it wasn't an empty threat. There was no anger in his voice, just plain, cold truth. I remembered what the guy outside had said right before I passed out. She may last longer than the others.

The full weight of the situation finally slammed into me. This wasn't a fake date. This wasn't a game where I could just break character and walk away. If I didn't play along, I wasn't just going to lose my job. I was going to lose my life.

I stared at him, my chest heaving as I slowly let out a long, shaky sigh.

Mateo saw the fight leave my eyes. He relaxed his grip on my waist and stepped back slightly, giving me an inch of breathing room.

He lifted his right hand, palm open, and held it out toward me.

"Will you marry me, Carissa?" he asked.

I looked at his open hand, then up at his dark, unreadable eyes. I hesitated for a long second, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"I will," I whispered.