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“I don’t want anything. I just want you and that baby of yours to be happy.” More tears fell down Gianna’s face after that, but I was pretty sure they were different than the ones before. I grabbed my gun, got up, and wandered over to the dress. I set the ivory revolver down on the table before going to unzip the dress. “Now, I would appreciate it if you could help me get into this thing.”
Gianna swiped at the wetness on her face, wiping it away before standing. She clutched the golden cross like it was her lifeline as she walked to my side and said, “Of course.” As I revealed a beautiful white dress with tons of silk and lace, she added, “What about, uh…” She patted her belly.
“Oh, I have something for that. Zander, will you grab the bag?”
Zander fetched the bag, and when Gianna saw the fake belly, she couldn’t help but chuckle at it. She’d put the golden cross around her neck, and it sparkled in the light of the mirror before us.
Getting the dress on while also having a fake belly wasn’t the easiest thing. I, of course, would have to hand off my ivory gun to someone else since the dress had no pockets and no slutty slits up the leg for easy access to a gun holster.
It was… weird, getting ready with Zander and Gianna, both of whom helped out. Gianna was surprisingly good at doing hair, while Zander was her extra set of hands. I tried to do my own makeup, because if I was going to take Miguel down while wearing white, I wanted to look good while doing it, fake belly aside—but it soon became clear that I did not often do my own makeup, so Gianna took that over, too.
This wasn’t how I thought it would go, but I wouldn’t complain. Gianna was actually really nice, and provided everything went well, I’d gladly be there for her. Take care of her and her baby. Hell, even let her live with me. What did I need that big mansion for, by myself? There was plenty enough space.
Besides, if I could make her life easier, if I could do what my real dad had done for me… that was enough. Every day, I’d prove to myself that I might be a killer, I might not flinch when I pulled the trigger, but I was not like Miguel.
It took longer than you’d think to get ready, to make sure the dress looked fine and my fake belly natural, to make sure my hair was in line with how Gianna’s would look. And the makeup, which was mostly for me, since I’d be wearing a thick veil I’d brought with me.
Gianna helped put the veil on my head, pinned it to my hair so it wouldn’t move, while Zander pulled one last thing out of the bag—something of mine. Something similar to the cross hanging around Gianna’s neck in that it was a symbol of a time long gone.
Gloves. Crisp and white, stainless and pure. The gloves I’d worn when I couldn’t stand the thought of people touching me.
Miguel had fucked me up for a long time, but no more.
Once I was ready, I stared at my face in the mirror, and I hardly recognized myself. With the makeup, the wedding dress, the belly, the dark hair… all the white. I was the girl Miguel always wanted me to be. What he wanted me to look like, feigning innocence even when it was obvious I wasn’t a virgin any longer.
Miguel had destroyed me. It was high time I destroyed him in return.
I turned away from the mirror, dividing my stare between Gianna and Zander, both of whom had taken a few steps back to get a good look at me. “Well?” I asked. “How do I look?” Gianna was a few inches taller than me, but with heels on, it’d be a match.
“Beautiful” was what Gianna said, while Zander uttered the words, “Like you’re ready to get married.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, maybe even for the first time in my entire life, I felt… good. Whatever anxieties had been growing inside me now fell flat. Standing there, I was hopeful, confident, everything I’d need to be in order to pull this off with aplomb.
The others were probably in position now. Cade in his Cobra costume. Ezekiel in the garden, ready to deliver a fake ceremony. Damian with the waitstaff, AKA his Serpents, and Luca in the audience with Shay and all the other Black Hand members and heirs.
One thing was for sure.
This wedding would go down in history, one way or another.
Chapter Twenty – Giselle
Waiting for one-fifty to roll around was like torture, but when a soft knock and a familiar voice spoke in the hallway, telling me it was go time, I lifted my gloved hands and reached for the veil on my head. After one final look at Zander and Gianna—both of whom would be staying here, in this room, while the shit went down—I lowered the veil over my face and answered the door.
Thankfully the fake belly didn’t weigh much, so it wasn’t too difficult for me to walk in heels. I had my ivory gun in one gloved hand, while my other pulled the door open to reveal Damian’s smirking face.
His black eyes ate me up. Gianna had to help with some pins, to make the dress hug my body the same way it hugged her pregnant one, but all in all, I’d say I nailed it. Based on the way Damian’s gaze twinkled, I’d say he agreed.
“Baby girl, don’t you look delicious?”
I arched a brow at him, not like he could see it, but delicious wasn’t quite the word I’d use to describe how I looked. Whatever.
He offered me his arm. “Shall we get you into position? Everyone is seated, and Miguel is waiting for his lovely bride.”
Gianna said, “Wait! The flowers.” She pointed to a bouquet of white roses sitting on the short boudoir near the mirror, and I went to grab them. I would’ve completely forgotten about them.
The bouquet was on the larger side, quite heavy as it was… and big enough to hide my gun. Hmm. What a twist, but one I was thankful for. I slipped my gun inside the bouquet and checked all around to make sure no one could see it.
Holding onto the bouquet with one hand, I wrapped my other around Damian’s arm and stepped out of the room. “Let’s do this thing.”
