Chapter 5

The wedding day arrived sooner than I wanted it to. During these last couple of days, I had done nothing but play with Marta and Will’s son, Lucas. We went to the playground, the ice cream shop, and to bookshops.

Books were something I had loved since the day I could read. I read to escape the fate I had been thrown into, and I read to escape the loveless world my parents had created around me. I had no friends and no one to share my problems with. Books were the easiest escape I could find, and I have kept them with me since.

Lucas was also a fan of reading. Maybe I had influenced him too much, but as long as his parents did not mind, neither did I. I wanted Lucas to have the best this world had to offer. Even though he was not my child, I had been with him since the day he was born. I had been there when Marta and Will got married, and I had been there when he came into this world. Actually, I was the first person to hold him and name him Lucas.

Marta and Will had given me Lucas so I could give him everything I had been deprived of.

I loved him — as much as you could love a human, I loved Lucas. He was my happiness, wrapped in a small and bubbly child who clung to me and never wanted to leave me. Nothing brought me more happiness than knowing he loved me as much as I loved him.

“Tina, look, I want that one,” he said as he pointed toward a Spiderman figure on display.

He called me Tina because that was the name he had given me when he learned how to talk. Back then, he had not been able to say my full name, so he insisted on calling me Tina.

“Alright, let’s go in and see if they have anything else you want.”

The shopping day ended early, and I drove home with Lucas holding my arm as I carried all of his bags in my other hand — my heart full of contentment and happiness that someone appreciated me.

I sat in the dressing room alone as I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked absolutely beautiful. If Luciano complained about me not being Melinda, he was so not into women. No man could resist her looking this good.

“Let’s go, the guests are waiting. Don’t waste their time,” my father said, annoyed, as he grabbed my hand forcefully and wrapped it around his arm.

I did not bother resisting his forceful movements as the doors opened and a slow but sweet melody echoed into the room. It was time to walk down the aisle.

The aisle looked like a tunnel carved out of a dream. A long and narrow path surrounded by thick walls of white flowers and deep green foliage. The blossoms were arranged so densely that not a single gap of the outside world could be seen. Above, branches intertwined to form an arching canopy, heavy with white petals that hung like frozen raindrops. Soft light filtered through the leaves as they cast a shadow across the smooth and reflective floors.

Every step I took down that aisle felt like walking deeper into a world built for beauty and danger — less like the hell they had described.

At the end of the aisle, a man stood, dominating the scenery around him and making the blooming flowers seem like dead petals scattered around. His posture was straight, his shoulders broad, and his hands clasped loosely behind his back as if he owned the air around him.

His suit was black and perfectly tailored to fit his muscular form as it clung to his body, enhancing his long legs and narrow waist. His face was cold and sculpted to perfection. Someone had indeed taken their time to perfect this man, I thought, as I ignored the small pinch I received from my father when a laugh escaped at my stupid thought. A strong jawline with sharp cheekbones and a mouth set in a straight and unreadable line.

The light from the floral canopy hit him in fragments, highlighting the hard edges of his features and leaving the rest in shadow. It made him look even more beautiful, with danger at the edge of it. In my eyes, he was a man meant for beauty — yet he had become the hell they associated with him every day.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the man as my father uttered a few words to him. The shift in his dark eyes told me he had just found out his bride had been switched. What a bad way to save yourself, Father, I thought to myself.

The priest said a bunch of things I was not able to comprehend. All I wanted to do was get done with this disaster of a wedding and move on with my life — if that was even possible.

Would Luciano mind if I did not work and stayed at home and spent all my time with Marta? Probably not — the man was loaded enough to buy out a country. Even if he did mind, I still had the 250 million left from selling my freedom, so I would survive either way.

With that in mind, my mood took a rather good shift as I stared at the man in front of me, waiting for the priest to finish his words. I turned to the priest just in time for me to say “I do,” and Luciano said his.

“I now announce you as husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Oh shit. I had totally forgotten about this part of the wedding.

Luciano lifted my thin veil and cupped my face with a cold and detached look on his face, yet something simmered in his eyes. Something I could not put my finger on. He pressed his lips to mine and gave a hard and rough kiss.

A kiss I barely had the time to register before he returned to his position with a smile on his lips. He once again leaned back, ignoring the guests who were celebrating a wedding that had been done involuntarily — and I heard his cold and hoarse voice whisper in my ear:

“Your father surely knows how to cheat, bella.”