The King's Bride

Amy Adams dug through the pile of lace, taffeta, and tulle in her lap, seeking the match to the orphaned silver pump in her hand. The back room of Casa Nostra smelled like garlic, tomato sauce, and failed dry cleaning efforts.

“Aha!” She held up the MIA stiletto triumphantly right as her best friend Matt poked his head through the vinyl curtain.

“You’re still not ready?” He grimaced at the dressing catastrophe before her. “The gala starts in thirty minutes.”

“I’ll be ready in five.” Amy grinned up at him. “I promise this Cinderella won’t turn into a pumpkin before midnight.”

Matt rolled his eyes before retreating to the front of the restaurant. As a reward for her years waitressing at Casa Nostra, Matt scored Amy a coveted invite to the annual spring gala held by the New York Botanical Gardens. Rubbing spaghetti stains off her secondhand gown was the closest to a fairy godmother she was gonna get. Slipping into the silver heels, she sighed in satisfaction at her reflection. Not bad for a bargain rack dress. She swept her wavy brown hair over one shoulder and grabbed her clutch.

In the taxi, Amy hugged Matt’s arm in excitement. The rambling old brownstone she called home was a world away from the gleaming venue lit up like a crystal palace, the floral displays worthy of Marie Antoinette. As Matt headed off to check on his catering staff, Amy snagged a flute of champagne and wandered starry-eyed through the extravagance.

Until she collided face-first with a wall of solid muscle encased in a tux.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” Amy squeaked. Looking up, she met the weird gaze of Viktor Valenko, infamous billionaire chief executive dubbed "the King of Wall Street” by gossip blogs. The hard planes of his face were arresting this close, if a little intimidating.

“No harm done.” His smooth baritone sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. Before she could react, he took her hand and brushed a gentle kiss to her knuckles while she blinked rapidly.

"In fact, running into you might be the first thing this evening to capture my interest, miss...?” His thumb lingered over her racing pulse.

“A-Amy. Adams.” She barely managed to exhale her name. The corner of his sculpted mouth lifted slightly.

“Enchanté, Amy Adams.” His eyes crinkled with mirth that softened his harsh features, leaving her unexpectedly breathless. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

With that, Viktor Valenko disappeared back into the well-heeled crowd, while Amy touched her tingling hand to her burning cheeks. Who knew the ruthless business mogul could be so dangerously charming? Shaking off the bizarre encounter, she headed for the dance floor, unaware of the piercing blue gaze following her every move.

Amy spent the next few hours dancing with Matt and his chef friends, nibbling on delicious hors d'oeuvres. Waitressing and culinary school left little time for glamorous parties. She relished this glittering fairytale event before her life returned to its usual grind.

As the gala wound down, Amy slipped into an empty hallway, seeking a bathroom. The sound of lowered voices stopped her. Peering around a marble column, she spotted Viktor with an elegant silver-haired woman. Their conversation seemed tense.

"You must secure your future and Valendria's, my son," the woman urged. "I've identified several suitable young ladies here tonight."

Viktor raked a hand through his dark hair. "I have no wish to enter so swiftly into a political marriage, Mother."

Amy gasped under her breath. Mother?! Which meant...this imposing man was actual royalty?! Before she could process this revelation, Viktor's arctic eyes suddenly sliced into hers. Heart lurching, Amy whirled to flee down the corridor.

"Miss Adams, wait!" In a few long strides, Viktor caught her arm. "How much did you overhear just now?"

Amy trembled. His commanding presence overwhelmed her senses. "N-nothing! I didn't mean to intrude, Your Highness, I just got lost looking for the ladies room."

Viktor studied her intently before chuckling, features softening. "Forgive me if I alarmed you. And I'm no prince, not yet. Though it seems my mother is determined to ensure my coronation one way or another..."

He drew Amy's hand back to his lips. This fresh encounter left her even more flustered yet intrigued. What did the strange Viktor Valenko want with her? Little did Amy know how soon she would find out...

Amy lay awake that night replaying Viktor's cryptic words. Seeking answers, she Googled him, scrolling through images of the billionaire at various society events, always with a glamorous new woman on his arm. Articles called him an "infamous playboy" and "Europe's most eligible royal bachelor."

Amy huffed, annoyed at herself. Why did she care about some aloof Casanova prince? She was just a girl from the Bronx without a penny to her name. What could she possibly have to offer someone like him?

A loud knocking at her apartment door jolted Amy from restless dreams the next morning. She threw on a robe and stumbled to peer through the peephole. Her breath caught at the sight of Viktor's imposing frame dominating the dingy hallway.

Throwing open the door, Amy rasped, "Your Highness?! What are you doing here?"

Viktor swept inside in an expensive suit, surveying her cramped studio apartment. "Forgive the abrupt call, Miss Adams. May I sit? There is an urgent matter I must discuss with you."

Bewildered, Amy cleared piles of clothing off her sagging couch so Viktor could sit. He took her hands, his piercing eyes meeting hers.

"Miss Adams...Amy. Forgive this unlikely request but you are uniquely suited to assist me. I wish you to become my wife and future Queen of Valendria."

Amy stared, speechless. There was no way she heard him correctly. "Y-you want ME...to marry YOU?!"

Viktor nodded. "I know it is sudden. But Valendria's future depends on it. As my wife, you shall of course want for nothing. Do this for me...and I swear you will have my eternal gratitude."

He lifted her limp hand to his lips. Amy's world tilted. How could this be anything but a fairytale or disaster in the making?