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“My mother’s cunning charm and wit have always made a statement. The bride’s family, the Meltons, have proven their desperation to merge with my family for decades,” he said, leaning over and informing me by whispering in my ear. “To put it plainly, this is my mother’s show. They have no say in any of these arrangements, and everyone knows it. Pollyanna, the bride, is lucky that my mother tolerates her, so at least it gives the bride the illusion that she has any authority in planning her own wedding. Make no mistake, though, every last detail, from the candles to the veal, has been chosen by Margot Aster. She’s the top dog, and she’ll never let a soul forget it.”
I sat back and eyed him with concern about what he’d gotten me into. Guests began filtering into the room, and it was easy to see that anyone walking into this room was wearing their wealth in full display. Jewels winked off the necks of the women gracefully milling around, their gloved hands gently clutching the bend of the regal gentleman’s arm they accompanied.
It was a sight I never would’ve dreamed I’d see when John invited me to Monaco, but maybe that was a good thing. Instead of being intimidated, I did what John advised me to do and immersed myself as I had done at the opera.
I was surrounded by a theater of dazzling beauty, a fairytale, and I felt grateful I was invited to attend. I felt beautiful, and everything around me was a picture of loveliness. There was no reason for me to do anything but live in this moment and see where it took me.
Chapter Forty-Three
John
I had no way to describe how beautiful Mickie looked tonight. Don’t get me wrong, Mickie was just as beautiful tonight as she was wearing hospital scrubs for twenty-four hours, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her makeup faded, especially because her smile seemed to always beam through her utter exhaustion.
My feelings for this woman were beyond me, but they were natural and genuine. The ridiculous conversations I’d had with my parents earlier faded to where they belonged, in the past because they were meaningless.
This was my life, not Sebastian and Margot Aster’s life. I would not allow them to threaten me in an underhanded, selfish way, trying to make me believe that my existence on earth was to please my fucking parents.
No sooner had I thought that my eldest brother, Sebastian V, walked into the room with my sister-in-law on his arm, his smile fake as fuck. His arrogance, however, was on full display. He convinced himself long ago that pleasing my parents was the only way to achieve happiness, and the shallowness of it was enough to make me sick.
Seb had never even attempted to be his own man, and I couldn’t imagine a more pathetic existence. That is until I scanned the room and saw the groom. Mark was less than twenty-four hours away from selling his soul for the Aster family fortune, and he looked like the most miserable asshole in the room.
Sadly, Mark was just as spineless as Sebastian, who wouldn’t dare cross our mother or disappoint our father. Mark was about to willingly marry someone he didn’t love because my parents made it clear there was no other option. And after looking around at this gathering, I’d say he was properly fucked.
I casually sank back in my chair, relaxed and happy that I’d chosen to live my life for myself and not for my family. I’d chosen a different route, and the stunning woman at my side was part of my journey. No one was going to fuck with that, and this theatrical event would serve as a reminder that I chose correctly.
“John?” I heard the bone-chilling voice of the woman my mother had always intended me to marry, Summer Cavendish. She came from a line of money that extended almost as far back as my mother’s family, which made her a perfect match in Margot Aster’s eyes. I’m pretty sure my mother had been secretly arranging our wedding since we were in prep school.
“Summer,” I said, standing to greet her and all the other eligible heiress-bachelorettes who joined us at our table. “Lovely to see you again. Allow me to introduce my lady, Mickie.”
Establishing the ground rules was the best thing to do in this situation because I wasn’t in the mood to fend off unwanted advances. After realizing who we were seated with, I knew my mother had intentionally put us here to make Mickie uncomfortable.
“I didn’t know you were attached?” Summer said. Her eyes were green and filled with an equal mixture of jealousy and curiosity as she sized up the Amazonian goddess sitting next to me. “Mickie? That’s a peculiar name.”
“You probably didn’t know he was attached because we haven’t stamped the whole relationship in stone yet,” Mickie teased, probably thinking these women were the playful type.
They were not. They were vicious, wicked, nasty, and bloodthirsty for money, status, and power, just like they were raised to be. What the hell was I thinking, bringing Mickie to this? I swear to God, if these women pulled her apart like hyenas, I would never forgive myself. She was only subjected to this because I was selfishly trying to find an easy way to get my parents to accept her.
“Don’t listen to her,” I eyed the most beautiful woman in the room. Then, just to piss off the rest of the table, I leaned over to kiss Mickie’s perfectly contoured cheek. “She’s the love of my life, and once this parade of events is over, we can go back to the peaceful life we once had before?—”
“Peaceful life?” Marguerite Rousseau spat out with a laugh from across the table as the others tried to hide their smiles. “How is it peaceful when you live in the craziness of California?” She looked at Mickie, “I’m sorry, Mickie. I mean the state no offense, but I?—”
“I’m sure the State of California isn’t offended that you don’t like it,” Mickie bantered playfully back. “And I’m not sure why you’re apologizing to me for any of it? I certainly don’t care if you hate or love the place.”
“The thing I can’t understand,” Alessia McLouth added, “is how you Californians don’t have any?—”
“You know, I think that’s about enough,” I said, stopping this bullshit. “This is absurd and way too calculated,” I stood and extended my hand to Mickie. “If you will please excuse us. I hope the evening’s events meet your expectations.”
It must’ve been the look on my face that clamped shut the mouths of the pecking hens because they didn’t say a word as Mickie graciously told them she was pleased to have met them, and we walked away from the table.
“Everything okay?” Mickie whispered, her hand clenching tightly to the bend of my arm.
“It is now,” I answered with a reassuring smile, choosing not to make her more uncomfortable by the lack of manners from the women at the table. “I’m actually over this entire shit show, and it hasn’t even started yet.”
“I’m not too sure what happened back there?” Mickie said as my eyes roamed the room for a safer place to sit. Everyone had assigned seats, but I was not returning to that table.
“That was my mother trying to intimidate you,” I said.
“What?”
