"Miss?" My seamstress glances up at me with obvious worry in her eyes. "Is the dress too tight?"

I quickly remove my hand from my abdomen and offer an apologetic smile. The last thing I'm going to do is admit I'm seconds away from throwing up. I'm supposed to be a happy and willing bride, not a bride held against her own will as far as the mafia is concerned.

"I'm fine," I tell her. "It's probably my breakfast upsetting me."

She tsks, disapproval replacing her concern. She's completely oblivious once again as she mutters under her breath, "I told you only one banana for energy. Anything else is too risky."

She continues her ramble about how a bride needs to take precautions on her wedding day but I don't hear her. Blood is pounding in my ears and makes everything sound like I'm underwater. There's just muffles and feedback and waves.

I'm getting married in a few moments.

Father was right—the weeks passed by far too fast. At the time it felt like the days were dragging on. I was roped into random dress fittings, and cake testings, and hall bookings. I didn't have to do much other than approve of Knox's choices (though I sincerely doubt he was the one calling all of those shots to begin with) but they were still a stark reminder of my impending marriage. It still overtook my life no matter how much I tried to block it out.

True to his word, Father extended my curfew. I went out by myself just to get drunk. Even stumbled home in that condition a few times but Father didn't do anything except give me disapproving glances and ushering me to my room when he caught me. What else could he do? Nothing about this is real and we all know it so why should I treat it that way?

This marriage is going to crash and burn at this rate but that's what I want. I don't want to marry Knox Marino. I don't want to be his wife. But here I am, with a stream of women helping me get ready, just moments from my father giving me away. I'm going to throw up.

"You okay?" Alessa mouths from her seat when she meets my eyes.

I force a smile and nod but I know she sees right through me.

I spent everyday of the past three weeks in her bed. She heard me cry myself to sleep every night. I spent as much time as I could with her, trying to leave her with good memories. She's going to be alone once I'm gone and I can't bear that. I still don't know if Knox will allow me to visit her or vice versa because that would require I actually talk to him.

I haven't spoken to him since our engagement. We only shared that one shit-show of a conversation in the women's bathroom and didn't speak a word the rest of the night. I hung on his arm like a dutiful wife, showing off my ring to women who eyed both the jewelry and my fiancé like a prize and gushed about how happy I was to all the influential families we talked to. Knox was indifferent, silent and observant instead, but with a reserved politeness I know he was forcing out of his ass. Neither of us wanted to be there or do this. And when the night was over, he simply shook me off his arm and stalked outside to his car. That was the last time I saw or heard from him and I was completely fine with it.

But now I'm realizing that maybe I should have at least tried to figure out what kind of person he is because I'm about to marry him. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with this man and the thought makes me wish I could run away and never look back. I'm scared, of both the marriage and him. For all I know, and genuinely believe, he's still the man who murdered his mother. I don't care what Father says. His so-called investigation hasn't proved otherwise and is barely getting anywhere.

This is all clearly so much bigger than me and somehow I got roped right into the middle of it. I don't know why Knox is forcing this marriage or why Father continues to insist that I need this. I don't know what the hell those two are up to. All I know is their problem seems to be with each other and yet I'm both of their punching bags. My throat locks up. I fucking hate this and I sure as hell didn't ask for any of it.

"You're ready!" My seamstress squeals. I wish I could feel as excited as her.

She lifts my veil and turns me by the shoulders to face the mirror. It's me in the reflection but I don't recognize myself. My eyes look haunted, empty. Anyone who looks close enough can tell I'm not a willing participant of this marriage but no one will try to look that far. Besides, the team Knox hired did too good a job to cover up the lies I'm wearing so blatantly.

On the outside, I look just as a bride should. My makeup is flawless, subtle yet with a smoky effect that brings out my eyes. My hair has been curled and tied into a loose bun at my nape with tendrils of hair framing my face. My dress is truly gorgeous—a white silhouette bodice covered entirely in lace with a sweetheart neckline that leads to off the shoulder full-sleeves. If this was a marriage I wanted then I could admit I look exactly as I imagined myself to look on my wedding day. But my wedding day is a lie, and I look and feel like an imposter.

Alessa walks up behind me and our eyes lock in the mirror. Her smile seems genuine. "You look really beautiful, Maria."

"Thank you, honey," I whisper back.

I don't tell her that I'm physically fighting off my nausea or that there's spots in my vision because I feel so dizzy. I've burdened my little sister enough these past few weeks. I don't want her to be scared of marriage. I want her to marry for love someday, like I've always wanted. I don't want to scare her away from the idea of it for good. So I force a smile and try to at least pretend that this isn't so bad. I'm not sure she believes me but she does give my arm a squeeze.

"You look gorgeous too," I tell her and it's the only truth I've spoken all day.

Alessa glances down at herself. She's in a simple silk beige dress with spaghetti straps and a floor-length hem. Her hair is braided and swept to the side and tiny white flowers delicately adorn it. She looks so grown up. Sometimes I forget she's practically an adult, only a couple of months away from eighteen now.

"Thanks," she murmurs a little shyly. Her face grows somber again. "Are you ready?"

My stomach twists painfully. No, I'm not ready. I wish there was a door in this room that led outside so I could make a break for it. But the only door here is the one my father is about to walk through before he gives me away for life. Shoves me away is more like it, and the thought makes me angry and bitter.

Our relationship hasn't been the same since he announced my engagement but that's no surprise. All my life I've known him to be a loving and fair father. This is entirely out of character for him and I want to trust that he really is doing what he thinks it's best, but I can't respect the way he didn't fight for me. I thought he would always fight for me but I guess I don't know who he really is.

He enters the room just then and stops when he sees me. I hate that there's pride in his eyes, as if he's happy to see me looking like a bride. He shouldn't be. I'm not.

"Everyone out," he tells the room. "I need a moment with my daughter."

All the women who had been fussing over me and my dress dutifully follow instructions and shuffle out. Alessa gives me one more squeeze and leaves as well. She smiles respectfully at Father on her way to the door but nothing more. Ever since the engagement, she's felt wary of him too and I don't blame her. I wonder if she's afraid that he will try to marry her off as well and break the promise he'd always given us—our freedom. I wish I wasn't so caught up in my misery and thought to ask her because now I might not get the chance.

Father tentatively approaches me when it's just us. "You look beautiful, principessa."

"Do I?" I ask and am unable to stop the tears forming in my eyes. Those are not the words I wanted to hear from him. He keeps letting me down and I hate it. "What about happy? Do I look happy?"

The remorse on his face is clear but I'm not sure I can believe it. "Maria, I have done everything I can to make this bearable for you."

"Everything except stop the wedding."

"That is impossible. This wedding—"

"Is for my safety," I finish his sentence. The same one he's repeated so many times as an excuse that it makes me want to throw something. "Right."

"He will be good to you. He promised me this."

"Just like you promised you'd always protect me? Forgive me for no longer being so gullible."

"Mariana," he says through gritted teeth. I've made every interaction of ours hell these past three weeks but I can't find it in me to feel bad. Not when he's ruined my life for good. Surely he can endure a few weeks in comparison. "I can't keep defending myself. There are things you will never understand and you just have to accept that. I never said a word to you all those nights you came home drunk, all those times you risked the others in the mafia seeing through this act and putting everyone in danger. You have done things beyond my control and I have done things beyond yours. Nobody is truly innocent. It is time to stop being childish."

I choke back more impending tears. How can he be so right yet so wrong at the same time? As much as I haven't been able to recognize him lately, I haven't been able to recognize myself either. I've never been the reckless type but being backed into a corner has made me behave in a way I had no idea I could. I may not like who I see in my father anymore but I don't like who I see in myself either. Maybe it is time to stop.

"Fine. I need a minute," I rasp. It might be time to stop but it's going to take a lot of self-convincing. I don't know that I can go through with this right now.

"Knox is about to make his entrance—"

"Please. I promise this is the last thing I'll ask of you and then no more fighting. Just give me a minute."

Father's lips tighten but he nods, hesitating a moment before he leaves the room. I immediately fall into the chair behind me when my legs give out. They're shaking, like the rest of me. Even my insides are quivering and it's a miracle I've managed to keep all my food in place. I lean forward with my head between my knees to try and regulate my breathing. I might pass out. I really think I might pass out.

I'm not sure how long I stay like this but it's been well past a minute. I'm still trying to catch my breath. I can't seem to slow it down and my head is starting to spin. I can't do this. I can't marry a man I don't know, a man that is dangerous and vile and my worst nightmare.

The door opens and I pinch my eyes shut, knowing I'm out of time. I greedily want more.

"Father, please—"

"What the fuck are you still doing in here?"

My head snaps up and my stomach immediately sinks at the sight of Knox. He stalks over to me with purposeful steps. He looks like a picture perfect groom in a tux tailored to his body and his hair neatly made but he is far from perfect. Handsome as he is, tall with eerily dark eyes and dark hair, a broad body and sculpted face, he really is like a beautiful nightmare. I stand up just as he reaches me. It's bad enough he already towers over me and sitting down makes me feel even more beneath him.

"I was just about to—"

"Why is it that I always have to drag your sorry ass to where you need to be because you can't seem to do anything yourself?"

Disbelief punches me in the stomach before a humourless laugh falls from my lips. How? How can I marry such a man? "I needed a minute."

"Your entrance was supposed to be five minutes ago. Do you have an idea how this looks?"

"Fuck that," I snap. I push at his chest because he's suddenly too close and I can't breathe. His eyes flash with anger. "I'm about to sign away my life to you. You get me for a lifetime. You can wait five minutes, your highness."

Faster than I can blink he backs me up against the wall and locks me in with his palms beside my head. I'm stunned into shock and have no time to react when he leans into my face, his breaths skating over my face.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that," he warns in a menacing voice. I'm not proud of the shiver that runs down my spine. "You are not a woman I want, but one that I unfortunately need. If I didn't, you'd realize just how lenient I've been with you these past few weeks. Do you want to get on my bad side, Mariana?"

I hate the way he says my name. Like he owns it. I swallow hard.

"So much for being ten steps ahead," I call on his brag. "Because now I know you need me, and if you want me to play nice then you don't want to get on my bad side either. I could ruin this for you if I wanted to, couldn't I?"

An incredulous burst of air rushes past his mouth, exhaling onto mine. My pulse picks up in alarm. He's too close. Too overwhelming.

"You don't hold the cards, sweetheart," he whispers. "Get your act right, or it's your family I go after. You can't even imagine the kind of chaos I could cause if I wanted to."

I hate him. I fucking hate him. He must see it in my eyes because a faint smile tugs at his lips. It's wicked and mean, just like him.

"I don't want you." I force the words through gritted teeth. "I will never love you."

His smirk deepens. I don't dare move a muscle when he removes one hand from the wall behind me and gently runs the back of his fingers up my throat, spanning them out over my neck. He brushes his thumb over my pulse, chuckling when he finds it racing.

"I don't care. Playtime is over."

"I mean it. You will be just as miserable as I am," I try as a last ditch effort but he ignores me.

"Enough. You are to walk down that aisle and marry me."

"Against my own will!"

"Your will belongs to me, just like you."

Bastard. More tears well up in my eyes. He notices and scoffs, that same disgust in his eyes that was there when he saw me crying in the bathroom. Apparently he can't stand even a lick of emotions. He really will be miserable married to me. I feel hard and even though my life is ruined, I will continue to feel. I won't let him change who I am.

He lets go of me and steps away. Instinctively my hand goes to my throat that feels cool and exposed without his hold on it. It feels like he left his mark and I hate that too. He really will do anything to make me feel like his property.

"Get rid of those fucking tears. No wife of mine will show weakness."

He's claiming me as if we're already married. I know we're only minutes away but I'm clinging on to these moments where I'm still just me and have nothing to do with him. I wish he would do the same so I could remain delusional. It makes me want to hurt him the way he's hurt me.

"You're using me as a ploy for your own advantage. Getting me involved in this shit-show instead of just handling your own damn business. Seems pretty weak to me."

My words obviously have no effect on him. He doesn't even blink. "Get your ass out there. The next time I come after your family, not you."

With that, he leaves. I cover my mouth with a shaking hand to suppress a sob. The last thing I want to do is follow his instructions but I really do need to pull it together. Getting married in this condition will only attract suspicion and I don't want that. I'm no longer under my father's protection now that I'm a wife. He kept me away from the mafia as much as he could and that was one of the reasons I was allowed to live my own life. Knox won't show me that same mercy. I don't want to attract any attention now that I'm marrying into his Familia. I want to remain as invisible as possible and the only way to do that is to be just another boring bride that everyone will forget by the end of the night.

I carefully wipe the corners of my eyes with a tissue and then fan my face, blinking the tears away. I force my lips into a smile and look in the mirror to see if it looks believable. It's not my best work but it's all I can manage right now.

The door opens again and Father meets my eyes in the mirror, nodding somberly. Time is officially up. Crap. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I'll find a way to survive this. I have to.

I'm glad I have my father's arm to hold on to because my legs are trembling as he leads me down the aisle. The wedding isn't huge which I should be grateful for but there are still too many eyes on me. I keep what I hope is a sincere smile on my face and look around at the guests so I don't have to look at my soon-to-be husband. I'm afraid if I do, everyone will see the lies I'm hiding.

Father's hand tightens in mine as he guides it to Knox's outstretched palm. He squeezes so hard it's like he doesn't want to let go. I meet his gaze for a moment and I can't deny the worry there. Maybe he really does hate this as much as I do. I've never wanted to believe that more than in this moment.

The warmth of his grip disappears and is replaced by Knox's much cooler one instead. I stand in front of him with my shoulders locked as he raises my veil over my head and out of the way. He peers down at me, face void of any emotion. His eyes are so lifeless I can't help but wonder what the hell made him this way. But then I banish the thought immediately. I won't make excuses for him. I like to think of myself as a good person but I won't be a stupid one. I'm going to do my duty and protect my family and that's as far as this marriage will ever go. He doesn't deserve my kindness or understanding.

The pastor begins reading the standard vows while everyone takes their seats again. I can't hear anything he's saying. My heart is pounding so hard it sounds like a drum solo in my ears. I can't make sense of the world around me. I briefly register Knox's mouth moving, saying the words "I do" before his hands pointedly squeeze mine. That's when I realize the pastor is staring at me and croak out an "I do" that I hope doesn't sound as tortured as I feel. The pastor tells Knox he can kiss me and I close my eyes tight, preparing myself.

My body is dipped backward and turned away from everyone. I gasp at the feel of Knox's hard forearm holding me against him and his rough hand gripping the side of my face. My mouth is parted, anxious, terrified, but nothing happens.

I open my eyes, confused, and meet Knox's cruel stare. Only I can see his face. No one else can see us with the way he's maneuvered us away from the guests, the way his hand covers the side of our faces and hiding our lips that are only a whisper away but not touching.

"You didn't think I'd actually kiss you, did you?" He murmurs. My cheeks feel like they're on fire from anger and humiliation. "This isn't real."

I have no time to respond because he straightens us up and faces the crowd again. They're cheering and clapping at the way Knox is mischievously wiping the corner of his mouth, as if he just gave me the grandest kiss and is wiping the evidence. His lips didn't even brush mine. I look around the hall until I spot Father, Alessa, and Carlotta near the front. They're all wearing expressions of shock and surprise so I know that kiss had to look believable, just as a husband should kiss his wife on his wedding day. Nobody suspects that this is all just one big lie.

And somehow that makes this so much worse.

________________________

A/N

I'M LOVING THIS LMAO. This is all so good. The angst. The insta-hate. The anti-hero asshole. The forced proximity. I literally threw all my fav tropes together in one book and I'm here for it.

Did y'all think I would give you a kiss so soon? Those who know me know I love writing a good slow burn. And their tension is about to PULLLLLLL.

Please VOTE, comment and share if you liked this chapter!

Happy Reading :)