Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I swallow hard. This is it.
Maria lets out a blissful, loud sigh, drawing all the attention to the proud mother of the bride. I can practically hear all the eyes rolling. She’s so fucking desperate for approval, praise, and attention. How was my luck so bad to have ended up with her?
The priest gets started, reciting passages from the bible and describing the meaning of marriage and love but with every word he speaks, I die a little more inside.
Before I have a chance to stop them, the tears start falling and within the blink of an eye, Marcus’ hand snakes out and slaps across my face. I gasp in horror. I wasn’t expecting that. Maybe from Maria or Lucien, but not from Marcus…I mean, not right here at least. I don’t doubt he would have punished me behind closed doors. It was a ballsy move, especially in front of all these people.
Gasps are heard throughout the church and the priest takes a step toward me, clutching onto my arm as if to pull me away, but I hold my ground.
Whispers are heard throughout the pews and even Luce has the balls to fly to her feet. “Hey,” she demands, making Marcus’ head whip around to her. “Don’t you fucking touch her, scumbag.”
Luce’s father instantly curls his fingers around her arm and pulls her down so hard that she crashes back into the pew, nearly falling to the ground.
Marcus grins at their performance and turns back to the priest. “Continue.”
The priest flashes his eyes to me. He doesn’t want to do this. He knows this is wrong, he knows I’m being forced, but more importantly, he doesn’t want to sin in the house of his father. Maybe if he knew that I was already lost to the big man upstairs, it might make it easier for him.
Seeing his reluctance, Lucien stands from his seat in the very front row and clears his throat. The priest stares at him and as Lucien raises a smug brow, the priest releases my arm and positions himself between us.
There goes my last hope. Not even God can save me now.
I zone out, spending every second staring at Marcus’ chest and forcing myself not to cry. If I meet his eyes, I’m fucked. If I meet Luce’s, I’m screwed and if I meet Lucien’s or Maria’s, I might just murder someone in the middle of a church. Or at least, I’ll try to. Lucien would probably electrocute me before I got the chance.
The priest's voice rings out loud and clear, much louder than at any wedding I’ve ever been to before. “Does anybody have a reason why these two people should not be wed?”
My head whips around, begging at least one person to stand up and save me from a life of torture, but not one person speaks up. I look back at Luce and I see her desperation as she also looks around, but seeing that the guests are going to allow this atrocity to continue, determination has her ready to make a move.
She meets my eyes and I shake my head. ‘Don’t,’ I mouth, silently begging her not to. She and I both know what will happen to her if she was to ruin this for Maria and Lucien. Hell, even her father has a tight grip on her. He’s practically sitting on her lap, holding her down while her mother, on her other side, still keeps her hand firmly on her thigh.
Defeat claims her and I watch the pain enter her eyes. There’s nothing she can do without paying for it with her life. ‘I’m sorry.’
Marcus tugs hard on my hand and my head whips up to him to see a heavy scowl as he prompts me to pay attention.
“Alright, then we shall continue with the vows.”
Maria lets out a shaky breath of relief, nearly inaudible to the rest of the guests and I realize this was the one moment she was waiting for, the moment that could make or break this wedding.
My reluctance has Marcus tightening his grip on my hand and I bite down on my lip, stopping myself from screaming out as he practically breaks the bones in my hand. When he finally loosens his grip, I turn to the priest, unable to look at Marcus as I speak.
“Repeat after me, dear,” the priest murmurs, waiting for me to nod. “I, Skylah Rochelle Valentine, take thee, Marcus Donald Mahony, to be my husband from this day forward.”
I cringe at the sound of that name. That’s not my name. It’s the one Lucien had my name changed to. I am not a Valentine. I am a Daniels. Always have been and always will be…it’s not like I’m ever going to be a Cruz. That dream died right along with Slade.
I don’t know how Lucien did it, but I can assure you that it was done illegally and somehow done without raising alarms of who Blake and I were. It’s bullshit. Shaylee had the name change applications filed before we even finished moving in with her, yet those papers somehow seem to have disappeared.