chandeliers. The mansion had been transformed for the wedding-flowers of deep red and white lined the aisle, candles flickered on gol

fection

Her gown was a masterpiece of satin and lace, hugging her frame, cascadin

waist. I'm supposed to smile, nod, and pledge

she was, in the eyes of her father, a commodity-a piece on the

m her thoughts. "Mia? It's time," said h

he floor itself were pressing down on her chest. The guests were already seated in the grand hall-mafia elites, pol

hem assumed s

ything was proceeding exactly as planned. Beside him, Mark DeLuca stood like a statue: tall, broad-shouldered, dark suit i

he end of the aisle and forced herself to walk.

to Mia, it was a cage. She met Mark's eyes for a brief instant. His gaze didn't flicker. No smile. No w

be your lawfully wedded husband?" Don

mind screamed. No. Never. Not him. Not thi

. do

ue. She inhaled and corrected herself, the syl

n't smile. He simply inclined his head once

ake this woman to be you

p and calm. Not a trace of hesitation,

appointed officiant-paused,

you may kis

k, his strong jaw, the dark intensity of his eyes, the way he stood so per

ouldn't. S

lips pressed together. Her finge

as it disappointment?-crossed his features, but he di

rough the tension. "Mia," he

her pride, and the sting of betrayal fueled her. She w

ervously. "Perhaps... a

ests. Eyes fixed on her. Exp

flowers, knock over the candles, and shatter every gilded thing in th

measured, and, for the first time, Mia noticed the faintest flicker in his eyes-a spark she cou

eat, then turned her hand away

ere in the audience. Her fathe

as no anger. No reproach. Only... something else. Somet

. She walked down the aisle with her head high, refusing to look at Mark, refusing to ack

ersation. Mia sat stiffly at her place, untouched champagne glass in hand, ey

her unless necessary, but there was a subtle air of... watchfulness. Every now

ate him, she told herself, again

ng part of her mind, something twis

ory smiles. And when the guests finally departed, leaving the mansion in eerie si

had a room direc

will respect this arrangement-or you will li

aved. Anger, disbelief, and humiliation swirled within her. She hated this man. S

Mark's eyes that day. The calm intensity. The subtle watchfulness. The way he

hought away force

she realized that hatred-sharp, bitter, and consuming as it