27. Emzee

“You look perfect,” my sisters-in-law cooed.

I looked in the mirror and tried to see the beautiful, blushing bride behind the thinly veiled unhappiness I saw in my reflection.

My head ached. It was half due to the stress of that morning, and half due to the elaborate hairstyle now constructed on the top of my head with about five thousand bobby pins pinching my scalp in order to keep it in place. Soft tendrils fell down my back, so it was the best of both worlds; Ford could touch my hair all he wanted, and my updo would still look sophisticated.

But inside, I was dying.

I knew Tori and Brooklyn were doing their best to make this the most magical day of my life, and I couldn’t bear to break their hearts by telling them definitively that this whole arrangement was definitely going to be ending in a year.

Still, the hair and makeup artists they had hired had done amazing work. I did look perfect, even though I felt terrible. My request to rock my signature winged eyeliner had been honored, my cheeks glowed with just a hint of rosy pink, my lashes were thick, and my lips were subtly glossed. Even my eyebrows were a fucking work of art. All that was left to do was put my dress on. It was hanging behind the door, still in its garment bag, another reminder of the bond that had formed between me and my fiancé.

I couldn’t look at that dress without thinking about how he had snuck into the bridal salon so the two of us could have a quickie in the dressing room, the Blue employees and my sisters-in-law just a few feet away down the hall. It had been wonderful and hot and unexpected.

Exactly like Ford.

I felt tears building up, a tightening in my throat, but I knew the last thing I could do right now was cry. I couldn’t ruin my makeup and I couldn’t let my sisters-in-law think that anything was wrong. No one could know about the deal I had made with my in-laws.

I’d thought briefly about telling my brothers, asking for their advice, but I quickly squashed that idea. I knew what they would say. They’d tell me to follow my heart and reject what the Malones were offering—that the Zoric family took care of its own, exhibiting exactly the kind of Eastern European machismo they’d been raised to embody, for better or worse.

But the truth was, we desperately needed the Malones to bail us out. They were the only people who could square our debts, protect us from the Bratva’s threats and violence, prevent our family’s reputation from plummeting again, and keep Danica Rose Management from going out of business. With wives and families to support, my brothers needed DRM to be a success. I couldn’t sit by and let the Bratva destroy the legacy my brothers had worked so hard to rebuild.

“Is everything okay?” Tori asked, leaning down to look at me in the mirror. “You’re stressing. I can tell by that tiny little line you get between your brows.”

“I’m great,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just nerves.”

“We get it,” Tori said. “But the day’s going to pass by so fast, you’ll barely have time to be nervous once everything starts. I promise.”

“Tori’s right,” Brooklyn said. “It really does go by in the blink of an eye.”

Both she and Brooklyn looked absolutely gorgeous in their matron-of-honor dresses. I hadn’t been able to choose between the two of them, so I had given them the title jointly, which had thrilled them. As had my request that they pick their own dresses. All I’d asked was that they go bold, nothing too pale or muted or neutral. I’d wanted to be surrounded by bright, happy colors on my wedding day.

They had each chosen something that suited them perfectly.

Tori was in a romantic, full-skirted blue floral gown by Marchesa that showed off her gorgeously rounded stomach. As always, she gave off a bit of a princess vibe, with a pair of cute matching shoes and her hair cascading down her back, perfectly curled.

Brooklyn looked every part the badass in a dramatic navy dress with gathered sleeves that was the ideal combination of sexy and wedding-appropriate. She too was showing off her baby bump, though hers was smaller than Tori’s, and she’d put on a pair of colorful paisley print Dolce & Gabbana stilettos which made her look even more high-fashion.

God, I wanted so badly to confess to them what had happened with Ford’s parents, but this was the kind of secret that even the Vault couldn’t contain. They’d want to run directly to my brothers and have them fix this for me, and I couldn’t let that happen. Besides, explaining the leverage the Malones had over our family would mean betraying my brothers, who didn’t want Tori or Brooklyn to know about the threat the Bratva was holding over our heads.

On top of all that, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin the wedding my sisters-in-law had spent so much time and effort planning for me. I was grateful for their help, grateful that they were here with me. I was lucky to call them my family. We had each other. That was what I should be focusing on, not my sadness over the eventual demise of my relationship with Ford.

Besides, I’d originally entered into this arrangement knowing that it would have to end. Knowing that there was an expiration date. This was simply a shift back to Plan A. No big deal.

My eyes started to sting again.

“You ready to put on the dress?” Brooklyn asked gently.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Could you two give me a moment, actually? I think I just need to…reflect. Compose myself. Before I finish getting ready.”

“Of course,” Brooklyn said, giving me a wink. “It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

They quickly cleared out of the dressing room, gathering their stuff as they went.

“Let us know when you’re ready for us!” Tori said, closing the door behind her.

And then I was alone.

I looked in the mirror again, at the girl who was about to be a bride, and took a deep breath. Today was both exactly what I’d once dreamed of having with Ford, and yet nothing at all like it at the same time. The girl in the mirror looked so pretty, so happy. Her life was simple. She was going to marry the man she loved.

The reality was a lot more complicated.

I dug a few bobby pins out of my hair, hoping it wouldn’t cause the whole updo to collapse, and sat there in my robe, feeling sorry for myself.

There was a knock and I fixed the smile back on my face as I heard the door open. Apparently, Tori and Brooklyn had decided I’d had enough time to myself.

But when I turned to greet them, I found Ford standing in the doorway instead.

Of course.

He practically took my breath away in his wedding suit. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen him in a tux before—he’d worn one to the gala where he first announced our fake engagement—but this was different. Everything was different.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I said, dropping my gaze.

When I looked up again, he was grinning at me. I was glad I was sitting down because I was definitely swooning at the sight of him, all dressed up for our wedding day, smiling at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You know you’re not supposed to see the bride before the ceremony,” I chided him.

I wasn’t mad, though. In fact, I’d sort of been expecting him. That was another thing I’d always found charming about Ford: his childlike inability to follow the rules. I had known he wouldn’t be able to resist sneaking in to see me before we met at the altar. It was half the reason my dress was still zipped up in the garment bag.

I turned back to the mirror, pretending to fuss with my hair as Ford came up behind me. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and nuzzling my ear. I admired the other us, the us I saw in our reflection. The way I wished things really were. A happy bride and her handsome husband-to-be. How desperately I wanted our mirror life to be our real life.

Ford pulled back and met my eyes in the mirror, searching my gaze. “Em.”

“What?” I asked.

“Do you…love me?” he asked softly.

For a moment, I was speechless.

If he had asked me even a single day ago, my answer would have been a resounding yes. I wouldn’t have had to even think about it. I’d have told him exactly what I had realized while running on the beach at sunrise—that I thought what we had between us was real, and that I wanted our marriage to be real as well.

But I was wiser now. Wiser than I’d been even a month ago. Hell, a day ago.

I’d learned my lesson. There would be no fairy tale ending for me.

Besides, there was no way I could tell Ford that I loved him knowing I was now using him, using his parents’ money, exactly as brazenly as he was using me.

Because as much as I wanted to believe that things had changed between us, the fact of this very moment—of him sneaking in to see me before the wedding—only confirmed what I should have known all along. That Ford was never going to change.

He was always going to do exactly what he wanted, not what other people wanted him to do. This whole fake engagement had been his idea to begin with, and it seemed foolish now to think that it could have ever become something more. That the dynamic between us could suddenly be different than it ever had been.

Ford was always going to see me as the pathetic, bullied outcast from high school who worshipped the ground he walked on and would do whatever he asked. He’d never see me as an equal. He’d never see me as a real partner.

It was better to accept that fact now.

“Do you?” he whispered again.

I turned and looked him straight in the eye, giving him the only possible answer I could.

“I…don’t.”

Emzee and Ford’s story continues in The Act …

It was always going to end in heartbreak.

You can't pretend-marry the man you secretly love and escape unscathed.

Ford has never hesitated to ask for my help before, but this is the farthest he's asked me to go. Not that I ever say no to him.

Even when I know I should.

Sleeping with my husband is the best worst idea possible.

It's everything I dreamed it would be.

But everything to me is nothing to him.

And he's not the only one I've made promises to.

Find out what happens in The Act .