“C’mon, everyone’s probably already waiting for you,” Jill says, hurrying me out of the room.
Before I know it, I’m in the giant hall, right in front of the door that’ll open in a few seconds and lead straight to the altar. I’m ready to hurl, but I have to keep it together for the sake of my pride. For my father, who’s sitting in one of the front row seats along with my brother, eagerly awaiting my arrival and marriage to this cruel man. He didn’t even want to walk me down the aisle. But it doesn’t matter.
No one cares about what I think or what I want, and I have no choice. Either I do this or my father perishes, and probably a load of other people too if Easton doesn’t get his way.
So I take a deep breath, lift my head high, and strut toward the door in my expensive long-sleeved, laced up mermaid gown, determined not to cry.
Easton
When she appears from behind the closed doors, she takes my breath away. I didn’t see her beforehand because I’m old-fashioned like that, but she looks drop-dead gorgeous. Jill did her best for Charlotte with this spectacular mermaid wedding dress.
She walks down the aisle with flair and her head held high, her footsteps soft and poignant like a fierce lioness. She doesn’t look anyone in the eye … except for me. Her face doesn’t adorn a smile, but the way she looks at me … burns as hot as the sun.
I can’t stop the grin from appearing on my face with the knowledge this woman is about to become my wife. That, in mere minutes, I will put a ring on her finger and kiss her on the lips for the first time ever.
My Charlotte … No longer a Davis, she will finally be a Van Buren.
Until death do us fucking part.
Charlotte
My head spins from all the eyes honed in on me. I’m like a goddamn bomb about to go off. But my legs push me forward and bring me toward the altar to the man who will take my life and never give it back.
I’ll lose myself forever here … and I’m letting it happen without even fighting back. I should run, hide, do something.
Instead, I stand before my captor and let him take my hand.
Everything that follows is a blur.
A person talks about our history, our past, our future, but none of it registers. People rejoice, and everyone seems happy, so I don’t understand why I feel so dead inside. Why I go deeper into that pit of despair the longer this goes on.
My brother sits right in front of me, but he never looks me directly in the eyes. My father brings forward the rings. The sight of his face makes me want to burst into tears, but I keep it together for my own dignity. For my honor, my self-worth. My father sold my soul so he wouldn’t have to die … can I truly be mad at him? Or would I have done the same?
The proud look in his eyes and the kiss he plants on my forehead make me tremble, make me question everything I thought I knew about myself, and it grounds me. Him being here forces me to focus on the reason I’m doing this. Not just because I have no choice in the matter, but because this is the better option.
But no matter how hard Easton tries to make me look at him like I did while I walked down the aisle, I refuse. Not as he holds my hand and professes his love, and not as he takes the rings from my father.
I want to run. Scream. Leave this place and never come back.
Maybe I should.
There’s still time.
Would they be able to catch me? To hunt me down before I’m gone?
Guards are scattered around us. One. Two. No, five. Never mind, more than that, maybe a dozen … or two. Could I escape them all, and would they let me go if I told them the truth?
I, Charlotte Davis, am about to marry a man against my will.
Who would fight for me? Who would defend my honor?
A few more seconds pass, and Easton holds out my shaky ring finger to slide on the ring.
People clap and smile at us, and before I know it, Easton’s placed his lips on mine.
For a moment, I forget everything that’s happening; everyone and everything around me disappears into the distance. All that’s left are me and him and his mouth on mine, drowning away all my regrets, all my sorrows, all my worries.
And then he takes his lips off mine, and the buzzing feeling wakes me up from the haze, reminding me what just happened.
Tears roll down my cheeks. “Don’t cry, princess. You’re mine now,” Easton whispers, and he brushes them away with his thumb. He holds up my hand in the heat of the moment. “Charlotte Van Buren, my wife,” Easton says proudly, and the room claps once again.