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“Yeah, okay,” I agreed because I didn’t want him to get into trouble and knew he would stay with me, despite the consequences. “I guess I have to face Grace. She’s probably looking for me.”
Hunter nodded. “You can’t hide forever. And it’s not too late to tell her how you feel,” he said on our way down the hallway. “She’s not a married woman yet.”
I expelled a deep breath to steady my nerves the closer we got to the ballroom. “Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t know.”
ChapterThirty-Five
GRACE
Ilatched onto Rhys’s arm and forced a smile for the cameras. Dozens of people wanted to snap pictures of the happy couple. It killed me to pretend when I felt like I was dying on the inside.
The second I accepted Rhys’s proposal, Cole stormed out of the ballroom and didn’t look back.
My heart raced as Rhys paraded me across the room on his arm, like his perfect little pawn. I didn’t understand why my grandfather wanted me to marry Rhys, of all people.
What choice do I have?
He made the rules.
We had to follow them.
“Smile,” Rhys whispered, “everyone is watching you.”
I thought I was smiling, but maybe it was harder to fake enthusiasm than I thought. Every inch of my body heated from the anger coursing through my veins. If given a chance, I would claw out Rhys’s eyeballs with a spoon and feed them to him.
Rhys was beautiful on the outside, but his heart was as black as coal.
Black heart.
Black mind.
He was evil.
Fitzy often threatened to arrange my marriage to the highest bidder. Instead, he sold me to a man whose family was going broke.
After we made our rounds around the room several times, my feet were killing me from the stilettos. I gripped Rhys’s muscular bicep to steady myself. He took that as a sign of affection and smiled. But it wasn’t a normal smile, not the one he used to charm his way into my panties. This one was sinister and terrified me.
I spotted Cole entering the ballroom with Hunter at his side. He scrubbed a hand through his blond hair and scanned the room. Our eyes met briefly before Rhys steered me in the opposite direction.
I glanced over my shoulder at Cole. My expression said,Save me. But I knew he wouldn’t come running when there was nothing he could do. Even Cole couldn’t interfere with this wedding and walk away unscathed.
The Salvatore brothers approached us with a beautiful blonde woman between them. Alexandrea Wellington was flawless. She practically glowed in a champagne-colored dress that hugged her waist.
Luca, the oldest of the group, held her hand like he was afraid someone would steal her again. Marcello clutched her right hand. Bastian was my cousin on my mother’s side. He had a warm smile and dark caramel-brown hair that flopped onto his forehead. His gray eyes met mine, and he winked.
He was Fitzy’s only living grandson and should have been his heir. I wasn’t sure what Bastian had done to get on the shit list, but it didn’t take much with our grandfather.
For most of my life, I wanted a family. Having a relationship with my cousin was another thing Fitzy deprived me of. It was like our grandfather was afraid we would swap war stories about him.
Bastian stood beside Damian, who was gorgeous and had the palest, unblemished skin I’d ever seen. His lips were so red it was as if he drank blood. He had the kind of face you put on magazine covers—a Roman nose, a jaw that could cut diamonds, and ridiculously high cheekbones, every inch of his face perfectly symmetrical.
The wicked look in Damian’s green eyes terrified me. Whatever was rolling through his mind must have been dark and scary. And the way he stared at Alex was even more sinister.
I wasn’t sure why my cousin and his adoptive brothers wanted to share one woman, but I could see the appeal. Alex had the face of a runway model and the body of a porn star.
“Vanderbilt,” Luca said with a cocky smirk, his hand extended. “Congrats on the engagement.” They shook hands, but it looked forced and uncomfortable. “Your parents must have something on Fitzy to slime your way into the Adams family.”
Rhys swiped a hand across his jaw and smirked. “Jealous The Founders chose my family over yours?” Wicked laughter spilled from his mouth. “Last I checked, The Founders refuse to admit the Salvatores into the society. You’re not one ofus.”
