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ALLURA
My stoned state fizzles the more time ticks by.
Hours later, I’m standing in the middle of a room in the building where the ceremony will take place. Ryder’s father owns the entire block, so it’s been deemed one of the city's most secure locations. Plus, it’s also been checked and rechecked for any potential threats hiding in the multitude of rooms lining the various hallways.
On the way here, Jessa attempted to distract me with a conversation about how she’d heard that this place was really beautiful, with gothic architecture, black and white checkered floors, a spiraling staircase, cathedral ceilings, and crystal chandeliers. I’d barely paid attention to her, my mind lodged in a place residing somewhere between funerals and fate ceremonies, questioning which would be worse.
Eventually, we arrived at the building, and the dooming reality that had been haunting me like a ghost since my eighteenth birthday became an actual living, breathing presence.
I’m doing my best to keep it together as I wait for the ceremony to begin. By appearance, I’m all ready to go. My hair is woven in curls and braids, my eyes are lined with kohl eyeliner, my eyelids and cheeks sparkle, and my lips are stained red. The flowing silk dress that I’m wearing is binding, and I can barely breathe, but the bottom has a slit running up the side and cool air brushes against my upper thigh. Beneath the dress is the lacey bra and panties Blaise saw me in while we messed around in the dressing room.
I’m trying to fixate on that, on how good it felt when he touched me, because I need something good to hold on to. Most of my attention, though, continues to drift to how rapidly my heart is beating, how shaky my legs are, and how empty the room is.
I’m all alone in this.
Just like I’ve been for the last three years.
Alone.
Always alone.
Except I’m not.
Not really.
Bodyguards are positioned all over the place, ready to throw down their lives to protect my father’s asset—aka me.
I want Jessa to return, but my mother made her leave the room so she could be put in the lineup. Even though my father is walking me down the aisle, he’s currently not present. I wish it would stay that way, wish I could walk myself down the aisle.
I wish I didn’t have to walk down the aisle at all.
Oh my God, this is really happening.
My breathing is becoming shallower. I think I might pass out.
“Well, look at you, all pretty and dolled up.” The voice slithers down my spine and spikes my anxiety to a dangerous level.
I knew he’d be here.
Why wouldn’t he be? After all, he’s my father’s capo. But a small and very naïve part of me hoped he wouldn’t be here.
His name is Levi Capprelli, and his father used to be my father’s capo until he died. Our families aren’t blood related, but my father considers Levi’s father to be his brother. That’s why, when he died, Levi was given the position without hesitation.
I actually used to like him when I was younger. He’d usually bring me a present whenever he visited, like a stuffed animal or candy. But Levi is just a hollow shell, hiding behind a mask of false smiles, something I learned too late.
I swallow shakily as the man who broke me steps down the last of the stairway, leaving him only feet away. He’s dressed in a pressed black suit and red tie, giving off the perfect appearance that he’s collected. But I’ve seen him come unhinged in ways that should only exist in nightmares.
Ever since that happened, I’ve tried to maintain distance from him the best I can, and it’s been relatively simple since he seemed as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore, either.
I want it to stay that way.
Why is he here?
Go the fuck away.
He steps toward me. “You look lovely, little Allura.” His eyes sweep up and down me.
I want to scream. I want to claw his eyes out, but I remain frozen, unable to move.
