I always knew I was a mess but last night made me realize it was much worse than I thought.

Never in my life did I imagine myself as the kind of girl who would enjoy something that senile.

Growing up, I hated my stepfather because he would do the exact same thing to me with a hickory stick and it would hurt like a fucking bitch. But with Tristan, I was hot and wet and nearly begging for more.

I never thought so much pleasure could come from something like that.

What did this mean for me?

I thought it had been the effect of the alcohol but even now, after hours had passed, my body still throbbed and burned with need.

"You look amazing." The deep enthusiasm in Candice's voice shattered the war in my mind.

I turned away from my reflection and took her in. She'd worn an electric blue dress that was plunged low in the neck and had a high leg slit. "I'm so happy for you and Mr. Billionaire and I'm still very sorry about last night. Getting married with a hangover must hurt."

Fiddling with my satin gloves, I nodded. It did, but not as much as getting spanked brutally in the ass.

My disgusting fetish aside, Tristan really hurt me badly and I wanted to think the best of him but his actions got me wondering what other horrendous things he would do in circumstances where he was ultimately fueled by rage.

The rap on the door drew me out of my contemplating thoughts and our heads turned in unison to see Stefan step inside in his navy blue tuxedo.

His eyes warmed when they met mine. "If it isn't the woman of the hour." He opened his hand wide and I walked into his embrace. I needed it.

He pulled away, looking down at my cloudy wedding dress. "You look beautiful, cookie, if you weren't my boss's bride, I would be taking you to the altar myself."

I smiled, except I didn't feel beautiful. I didn't feel anything. I just wanted this to be over. "Thank you, Stefan."

"While you guys get all emotional, I'll go and settle in the car." Candice chirped in, handing me my French bouquet before kissing me on the cheeks. "Good luck honey, try not to trip."

"I won't." I smiled and watched her go. The minute those doors closed, I blew out a breath.

"You look out of it," Stefan observed, folding his arms. "You can still back out, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Can I really?"

"Depends." He shrugged. "Do you want to?"

"Yes and no," I sighed. "It's complicated."

"I kind of get it but you sure you're okay tho?" He uncrossed his arm and took a step forward. "What happened last night?"

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

He lowered himself to my height, gauging me. "Between you and Tristan. I tried calling him to explain things but he didn't return any of my calls. So what happened?"

My stomach jumped into my throat. His tone was serious and it made me anxious. I let out a shaky breath. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah, nothing."

What difference would it make if I told the truth?

"He was angry but we talked it out and I went to bed."

He straightened and sighed. "Well, that's good to hear. If he ever does anything you don't like, let me know right away, okay?"

I nodded, smiling. "Noted, Big B."

He laughed, taking my hand. "The car is ready, let's go get you married."

I had always wanted an outdoor wedding, one bathed in warm sunlight and gentle breezes. I imagined there would be nothing but happy smiles and whispered admiration as my mother led me up the aisle to the man of my dreams. When I was a child, we would act out the scene, and she would talk on and on about how happy it would make her to see me in a white dress.

I was in one now, except things were different. The ceremony unfolded within the towering walls of a cathedral. There were no supportive family members by my side, no adorable flower girls scattering red rose petals in the air. The congregation was sparse, with everyone appearing more like methodical observers than joyous witnesses. I walked alone, following the slow cadence of the wedding march that guided me toward the man standing beside the priest; the man who would become my husband for the next six months.

He stood there in his towering height, dressed in a black custom-made suit with his hair glistening and tied back, and though the strong features of his face softened, his eyes were deep and gauged me.

When I reached the altar and the music came to a halt, he took my hand and smiled warmly at me. But I was not swayed. I had to remind myself that this was a business arrangement, a temporary situation. Once I got what I needed out of it, I would take control of my life, make better choices, and maybe, someday, find the love I truly deserved.

With that resolve, I managed to endure the entire ceremony: the sermons, the prayers, the advice. It was not until the priest asked his pivotal question that I was jolted back to reality.

"With this ring, do you, Tristan Larsen, take Sienna Bardot as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? Do you promise, with all your heart and soul, to honor this vow until death do you part?"

Tristan took my hand confidently. "I do," he declared and slipped a plain golden band onto my finger.

The priest then handed me a matching ring. "And with this ring, do you, Sienna Bardot, take Tristan Larsen as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? Do you promise, with all your heart and soul, to honor this vow until death do you part?"

I took his hand and held the ring without saying a word.

Tristan did not seem bothered by my hesitation. He stared right at me; like he knew I wouldn't back off, he was aware of my desperation and confident in his advantage.

Was I being brave or foolish? I couldn't say, but it didn't matter because the moment those words left my lips, there was no taking them back.

"I do."

The priest smiled with satisfaction at our orchestrated declarations. "Now that the two of you have exchanged rings and vows in the presence of your family and the church, you have declared your eternal love for each other. By the power vested in me by the Almighty and the state of New York, I hereby pronounced you husband and wife." The congregation erupted in applause. "Mr. Larsen, you may now unveil and kiss your bride."

I grabbed my bouquet tighter as Tristan stepped forward and slowly lifted my veil. The kiss was light but firm and long enough to have the crowd cheering. When he broke away, he took my hand in his and led us down the chapel aisle to the office chambers where I would officially sign myself away and become his, not truly, but deceitfully.