Hold You Against Me (Stripped 4)

This morning I’ll get married.

Glitter rainbow stickers frame my face in the vanity mirror. It feels like a lifetime ago that I decorated everything with color and flash, childlike enthusiasm laced with a burgeoning femininity. A lifetime ago, but what’s really changed? I’m back where I started, living the life I was born to.

Back then my only purpose was to marry a strong Italian man and make strong Italian babies. It was a fate I fought and escaped, only to end up right back here. I was never one to believe in destiny, but I can’t deny its power as I contemplate the expanse of white fabric draped over the bed.

Two hours later, my makeup and hair are finished, my corset and stockings in place.

The only thing left is the dress.

The gown is couture, of course. Very expensive, with a slender wrapped bodice and artful ruches in the wide skirt. There’s something both architectural and delicate about the design, a contradiction that only enhances the allure.

It’s a fairy-tale dress, but I know better than to believe in that.

There will be no white knight swooping in to save me today.

There’s a small knock on the door. “Come in,” I say absently, expecting Maria.

Instead Juliette wears a gorgeous silver sheathe and a hesitant smile. Romero stands at his usual post, holding the door open for her. He’s been pretty pissy with me after last night, but now he’s busy looking at Juliette with lust—and maybe a little bit of longing.

She pulls me into a hug. “Oh, Clara. You look beautiful. Radiant.”

“Now I know you’re lying,” I say drily. “Considering I slept all of two hours last night.”

Her expression is sympathetic. “Nervous?”

“Something like that.” I decide to skip the retelling of last night. I’m not even sure I can get the words out. And if I start crying, I’ll ruin the amazing eye makeup that Maria did. You can barely tell my eyes are puffy.

With a strange expression, Juliette holds out a small sky-blue compact. “For you.” She glances behind her, but the door is firmly closed. We’re the only ones here. “Giovanni asked me about something blue I was supposed to bring you?”

Shit. I take the compact and open it to reveal a small mirror. “Sorry about that. He heard the tail end of our conversation. I had to come up with something fast.”

“Me too,” she says, her cheeks pink. “I had to search my purse and act like I wasn’t sweating it. It was either the mirror or my Adderall pills.”

We share a look before breaking down into giggles. Lord knows I need a laugh after last night. It feels good to relax again, to have a friend. Maria, with her strange unexplained defensiveness of Giovanni, doesn’t count. I miss Amy. I miss Honor. Both of them should be here for today, even if it is a fake marriage.

I get up from the vanity seat and move to the bed, using the square foot of space the dress isn’t occupying. Juliette comes and sits next to me. This spot has the added advantage of being farther away from the door, so there’s less chance of being overheard.

She speaks low, holding my hands in hers. “I called the number you gave me and spoke to a girl.”

“Candy?”

“She didn’t tell me her name. She was pretty hostile, actually.”

“I’m sorry. She’s really fierce about protecting her friends, and I’ve been missing for days now.”

“I know. I told her what you said, that you were okay. That you were safe.” Juliette makes a face. “She asked for proof of life.”

“Oh my God. I do love that woman.” I sigh, missing all of them at once. It hits me like a freight train. “Well, she’ll tell my sister, and at least they’ll know I’m alive. And she’ll know to be on her guard.”

Juliette hesitates. “I told her my name.”

“Oh, but why? You didn’t have to do that.” I know how much she’s risking helping me.

“So that she could get in contact with me. I haven’t heard anything yet.”

I bite my lip. “I’m sure she’ll contact you.”

“What about the wedding?”