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I crouched beside the mechanic’s dead body, careful not to touch him.
Until my eyes fell on his pocket.
The corner of a card stuck out.
I plucked it and flipped it over.
The face of a laughing joker stared back at me.
CHAPTER 16
Guns N’ La Petite Mort
Darla
December flew by in the blink of an eye and was dedicated to Ella and Cade’s shotgun wedding. They wanted to elope to Vegas and have an intimate ceremony. As the maid of honour, it was my duty to ensure everything was absolutely perfect for their special day.
My best friend was drop dead gorgeous in a custom Maison Sereno wedding dress that was form-fitting and ended right above her knees, paired with a stunning diamond crown. In true iconic Ella fashion, she even donned a white leather jacket that she’d bedazzled with ‘Mrs. Cade Killian Remington’ when we were sixteen years old.
Always bold and manifesting the kind of life she wanted for herself. I really admired that about her.
It was a memorable wedding surrounded by lifetime friendships and the love of two soulmates who’d only ever wanted each other. Seeing Ella and Cade recite their vows brought warmth to my chest.
I was so happy for them.
I wished everyone could experience that kind of happily-ever-after and excitement.
My fingers touched my pulse, wanting to feel that zing of aliveness.
It only came when I pictured a certain six-foot-three, brown-eyed man with packed muscles, tattooed skin and a deep sinful voice that whispered naughty promises.
Zeno took the liberty of setting our wedding date mid-January.
He threw a suitcase of cash and instructed me to pick a cake, dress, flowers, and anything else my heart desired. How kind of him to allow me to plan my dream wedding without being involved whatsoever.
Maybe he took it personally when I told him he was disgusting and delusional.
Although that was the furthest thing from the truth.
Zeno Gianni De la Croix was the kind of man women fantasized about until their last breath. Striking in his Greek god looks. Crude with his words. And so irresistible you couldn’t help but want to be ensnared in his web.
While I hated him for what he’d done, I hated myself even more for being attracted to him. He was right about one thing: we would fuck on our wedding night.
It was inevitable.
I wanted my future husband to teach me all the bad things I craved.
Currently, I was in one of the fitting rooms at Maison Sereno’s atelier when a knock against my door had me spinning around, my wedding dress caught at my hips.
“Yes?”
The door crept open half an inch and I heard Anna’s voice. “Someone’s here to see you, Darla.”
“Who?”
Diane Hill couldn’t be bothered with anything wedding related after I ripped her a new one, and I knew Dacia was at the courthouse today. It was just me and my bodyguard Felix, who was waiting for me outside and munching on the complimentarypastais desnata.
“Your fiancé.”
