Chapter 5

Samantha's POV

Looking at myself in the full-length mirror, I run my hands down the soft silk of my wedding dress, a twenty-thousand-dollar Alice Temperley dress. It has been a month since the encounter with *him* and I'm proud to say that I have shoved it to the back of my mind where it will forever reside. The fluorescent overhead light catches against my eighteen-carat diamond ring, the ring Lucenzo had sent over the previous week. I lift my right hand to my face and pull the ring off my ring finger- to think that such a beautiful ring is all for a sham of a marriage.

"It's so beautiful." I'm pulled away from my thoughts by Eve's dreamy voice. I put the ring back on my finger as I turn around to face her. She is dressed in a flowery red dress as per my appointed bridesmaid. Eve and I have been friends for as long as time. Our families were friends, so we became friends by default, attended the same school, and rented an apartment off campus together where we hosted parties, to my dismay and very obvious disapproval and to Eve's unswayed determination.

The only difference between us is that while I settled for working in my dad's firm, Eve decided to open her publishing business against her parents' protest. The girl got balls, and it is a good thing she did it because her business is one of the best, they have the most scandalous tabloids on celebrities and have a knack for turning any event they want into a story worth reading.

"Too bad it is to be wasted on this wedding." I sigh out loud as I face the mirror again to do one final check on my outfit.

Eve walks closer to me and takes both my hands into hers, squeezing them tightly and then pulling me into a hug. "We can still run away, just go out the window as we did in high school. I would go with you," she whispers into my ear, her voice deadly serious.

A smile forms on my face."I know you would." I pull away from the hug to stare into her eyes. "I will be ok. I promise."

With doubt in her eyes, Eve reaches up to fix the veil on my head, making sure it is firmly in place. "You had better be. Don't ever let him walk all over you. Fight back."

I smile at her.

"You look beautiful in that dress." A deep voice interrupts our conversation. I look into the mirror and meet Lucenzo's eyes through it as he walks into the room that the church offered to us. His tie is silver and his shirt brilliantly white, the stark absence of color emphasizing those astonishing blue irises. He stands there with his jacket open. The sight of him is like running smack into a wall I hadn’t known was there. He is even more striking than I remember. I have never seen hair that is that purely black. It is glossy, probably from the products he used on it, and cut short, the ends do not even reach his neck. The cut gives him the appearance of a successful businessman, one you wouldn't think dabbles in illegal activities.

"Thank you," I say as my stomach flutters at his compliment. What the hell is wrong with me?

He walks further into the room and looks at Eve blankly. "Give us a moment alone."

It's an order.

Eve turns to look at me and when she finds whatever she is looking for, she turns back to smile at Lucenzo, heading towards the door as she says over her shoulder. "Of course. I will give you guys some time together but please make it fast. The wedding is going to start any moment from now."

"We won't take long." He waits for her to leave and shuts the door behind her before he speaks again.

"You look stunning." He runs his eyes slowly from the top of the veil to the tip of my feet covered in white sparkling high heels, and I feel a scorching heat left behind in every place his eyes meet.

"Thank you." Great. Now I sound like a broken record.

"But you are missing something." He comments.

Confused, I turn back to the mirror, giving myself one over again. Veil? Check. Hair? Check. Makeup? Check. Dress? Check. Shoes? Check. "What am I missing?" I give up looking for the answer after staring at my reflection for minutes on end.

"This." He comes up behind me and pulls out a black box. I hadn't even noticed that he kept his hands behind his back all this time. He flips the top open. There are jewelry inside. Expensive jewelry.

He lifts out a necklace first. A Ruby necklace. Real. I know it, by the way, the sunlight from the window glints off the facets. He drops the box on the table at our side then his hands reach for me.

"To match your lips that I can't seem to get out of my mind." He whispers, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror as he moves my hair to the side and reaches around me while standing so close I can smell the heat of his skin underneath his spice-scented cologne that whiffs into my nose. He fastens the clasp behind my neck. The oval-cut diamond falls into place between the curves of my breasts. He pulls back to look at it and makes a low noise in the back of his throat like a groan. Then he’s reaching for the box again. I feel like a doll placed in front of a mirror for a dress-up.

Earrings next.

He takes off the silver stud earrings I'm currently wearing, dropping them beside the black box on the table. One of them rolls off the table and onto the floor, but he doesn't pay it any mind, his sole attention on me. His fingers are swift at my earlobe as he is close enough to see the piercings and guide the post through the hole and slip on the backing. He does the same to the other earlobe. Swift and precise. They match the necklace.

“What are you doing?” I murmur.

"Dressing you up properly for our wedding."

It wouldn't be advisable to kill the groom a few minutes before we both work down the aisle. "I didn't ask for it."

"I know you didn't." Taking a step back, he glances over his handiwork, a proud look on his face and then he’s moving again, putting himself next to me. It’s too much. I move away from the mirror. Anything to put some space in between us, because if there is anything I have noticed from our short time together, it is that my brain short-circuits anything he is close by. He stops my movement by tucking my hand into his elbow and reaches across us to skim his fingertips over my jawline. I turn my face to him. "Just wear it. I had them made especially for you.”

My mouth runs dry but I manage to croak out a “Fine.”

"Good girl," he whispers and my breath hitches. "Now let's get married."