AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Allura, do you agree to the vow?” Kole repeats, his tone catching with a sharp warning.
My mind flutters like a hummingbird as I frantically peer around the room, searching for an exit. I’ll run. Let them try to chase me down. I don’t care.
“Al,” Reece whispers from under his breath. “Just make the vow.”
My attention snaps to him. He’s giving me a pleading look with a hint of warning residing underneath it.
I fix my attention back to Kole. “Yes,” I manage to get out. Then I drag the tip of the blade down the palm of my hand.
I barely feel my flesh split open.
Barely feel the blood as it pools out of the wound and trickles onto the floor, ending the ceremony and sealing my fate.
TWENTY-FIVE
ALLURA
An hour later, I’m sitting at the families’ table at the front of the reception room and beneath the arched ceiling, illuminated with splashes of silver and red lights that drift down onto the tables and chairs like bleeding starlight. Music is flowing from the speakers, a sequence of rhythmic beats that mix with light chatter of congratulations directed at the families’ fathers, along with Ryder, Reece, and Blaise. Mostly, no one speaks to me, and I’m glad. I feel dead inside. Numb. Like I just buried myself alive and am slowly suffocating. The panic hasn’t set in yet, but it’s coming—I can feel it. And the ring on my finger feels like it weighs at least a hundred pounds.
I also can’t stop thinking about what my mother said right before I entered the ceremony. What does she think she’s protecting me from? Why did she tell me she cares about me? She’s never told me she cares about me before. If she thinks she does, she’s delusional.
“Hey.” Jessa interrupts my thoughts as she drops down into the empty seat beside me and offers me a glass of champagne. “How are you holding up?”
Instead of answering, I snatch the glass from her and down it in one long gulp.
“That bad, huh?” She frowns as I give her back the empty glass. She sets it down on the table and twists toward me. “I know this sucks, babe, but it might be easier to deal with if you weren’t just sitting around and thinking about it.” She offers me a sad smile. “We could go dance, you know, like one final hoorah.” She nods at the dance floor where people are dancing with smiles on their faces, looking as happy as can be.
“Maybe in a bit,” I tell her, but I don’t think I will. “I’m going to get another drink.” I start to rise to my feet.
She stands up with me. “Let me get it for you.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I need to move around and get my blood flowing again.” My gaze involuntarily lowers to my hand which has a bandage covering the wound that will eventually turn into a scar to forever remind me of what happened today. “You should go dance, though.” I step away from the chair. “You could ask Henry to dance. He could help you get over Jay. Or at least be a one-night distraction.”
While we were getting our makeup done today, Jessa confessed that Jay had broken up with her. She seemed sad about it, but not totally broken. I asked her why, but she was being vague, making me wonder if it had something to do with what transpired between Reece and me at the party. I’ve known Jessa long enough to know she likes to move on quickly and usually with a one-night stand.
She considers this while eyeing Henry, a guy who works for Blaise’s father. He’s a few years older than us, has these really pretty hazel eyes, and I had a crush on him for like a month when I was thirteen.
“Maybe I will”—she returns her attention to me—“but only if you promise to come dance, too.”
It takes all of my energy to nod. “In a bit, after I get another drink.”
Her smile is almost real this time. Then she backs away while pointing a finger at me. “If you’re not out there in fifteen minutes, I’ll find you and drag you out there.”
I offer her a thumbs-up, and she grins before spinning around and pushing toward where Henry is standing, chatting with a few other mafia members I vaguely recognize. Once she approaches him, I turn away, gather my dress, and march over to the bar located near the entrance.
“Hey,” the bartender greets me with a smile. “You’re the bride, right?”
“Yep,” I say flatly as I place my hands on the countertop. “And this bride would like a shot of vodka.”
His smile falters at my sharp tone, but he nods, grabs a bottle and glass, and pours me the shot.
I throw it back then slam the glass down, gesturing for him to do another. He hesitates but tops it off. Then his gaze darts to my right as Reece steps up beside me.
“Whiskey on the rocks,” Reece tells the bartender, who nods then scurries off to get the drink. Reece rests an arm on the counter as he rotates his body toward me. “You really want to take another shot with how much of a lightweight you are?”
“How do you know I still am?” I challenge. Then I collect the shot and down it. “And FYI, you're drinking an old man’s drink.” I smirk.
His smile is all sorts of wicked amusement. “Is that so?”
