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“Take Alexandrea to her room,” Lorenzo ordered. “Send the seamstress upstairs for the dress fitting.”
His eyes landed on my face, then moved to my breasts for a second before he looked at me again. I wanted to cut out his black heart and shove it down his throat.
I glared at him, hating the feeling of his eyes on my skin. He opened his mouth, as if he were about to speak, and then he took off down the hallway without another word.
* * *
After Lorenzo left us, a man with short, dark hair and scruff along his jaw pushed me into a large bedroom with his hand on my back. He forced me to sit in front of a vanity, where a pretty brunette waited for me with a makeup brush in her hand.
She didn’t even look at me as she began working on my face. Another woman gathered my curls in her hand and pinned them into an updo, so they were out of my eyes. I sat in complete silence as they treated me like a doll.
After my hair and makeup were complete, I looked in the mirror. I didn’t recognize the woman who stared back at me. Charcoal eye shadow lined my eyes, paired with a sultry blue. My lips looked plump and fuller than normal from the pink gloss.
The brunette woman lifted a white gown from a hanger and held it out for me. My throat closed up at the sight of my wedding dress. It had a sexy corset top that would show way too much cleavage. The fabric was lacy and had a long train that seemed endless.
Other women would have salivated over this gown. But as I gazed at it, tears pricked my eyes.
I wanted to scream.
The girl took the dress off the hanger and held it out for me to step into it.
I bit my lip and shook my head.
“If you don’t put this on, Mr. Basile will shove you into it and drag you down the aisle. It’s the easy way or the hard way.” She smirked. “I suggest you do as you're told.”
“I don’t want to marry him,” I muttered.
“You don’t have a choice,” she snapped in a harsh tone. “No one tells Mr. Basile no.” She moved closer to me, the dress fisted in her hands. “Put on the dress, and you can see your brother before the ceremony.”
At that, I hopped up from the bench and stepped into the dress. Maybe Aiden would have some ideas about how to get us out of this situation. He wasn’t as smart as Luca, or as savvy with tactical strategy as Marcello, but he would never let me marry a man who wanted to use me for revenge.
She pulled the gown up my body and zipped it behind me. When I gazed into the mirror, my heart dropped into my stomach. I looked like any other bride on her wedding day.
This felt wrong.
Disgusting.
I clutched my stomach, bending forward to quell the rising sickness building at the back of my throat. She steered me over to the vanity by my shoulder and pushed me onto the bench.
“Just breathe,” she lilted. “It will be over soon.”
Holding my hand over my heart, I breathed, reminding myself it would all work out in the end.
A few minutes later, the door opened.
Aiden walked into the room, dressed in a black tuxedo, his wayward blond curls gelled to keep them off his forehead. He looked handsome with his face shaved. Without the facial hair, the dimple in his right cheek popped when he forced a smile for my benefit.
I extended my hand to him. “Aiden.”
He crossed the room, took my hand, and got on one knee in front of me. His blue eyes were glassy, as if he were also fighting the tears. I wasn’t hiding my feelings as well as him. But he wasn’t pregnant either.
A few errant tears slid down my cheeks, messing up the makeup caked on my face. My brother wiped them away with his fingers.
“You look beautiful, Lexie.” He pulled me into his arms and whispered, “I will get you out of here.”
“How?” I asked in a hushed tone. “They have guards everywhere.”
“The Salvatores are here with some of the Knights. I overheard Lorenzo telling the guards to keep their eyes on them. He knows they’re going to stop the wedding.”
