Page 22 of Masked Hearts

I do know whatmighthappen, and I’m in denial about it. Kylian was surprisingly quick to run and tell me exactly what went down in the meeting with the Vitales, including Antonio’s little threat of consummating our marriage as soon as the wedding was over. Down to the cliché taunt of providing bloody sheets.

Now, do I think my father and brother probably provoked him to the point of saying that? Yes.

Does it still make a chill run down my spine at the thought? Also yes.

Antonio has never made me feel uncomfortable on the few occasions I’ve been in his presence, but I’m also aware that I do not know this man at all, and he is capable of a lot more than I’m aware of.

“Here, let me help,” Noelle offers as she steps up to help Jacques, who seems to be struggling with the veil.

“You look beautiful,” she says softly as she easily clips the veil in. She slowly brings it over my face, another tradition my mother should’ve been here for.

“You look beautiful,” I turn and tell her.

She’s wearing a soft yellow bridesmaid dress along with Eleanor, who took on the role of maid of honour in a heartbeat when I realised I hadn’t even thought to ask anyone.

“The dress is perfect. Just like you always wanted.” Her eyes twinkle with a tinge of sadness as she looks at me.

She’s right. The second Eleanor realised I didn’t have a dress, she pulled up my Pinterest board and started scrolling through all the options to make sure at least one part of today would be perfect. It’s a floor-length white gown with a corset bodice, thigh-high slit, and off-the-shoulder draped sleeve. Underneath, longer sleeves made entirely of lace peek out, as well as an underskirt of lace that shows through the slit. It perfectly combines both modesty and an air of sexiness, which is exactly what I wanted for the ceremony.

“Come on, don’t cry. I’m getting married, not dying.” I pull her into a hug. The moment does feel rather bittersweet. This is the exact dress I’ve always dreamed of, at the exact venue I’ve always wanted in Saint-Tropez, with a man who’s rich and good-looking.

But the bitterness of the day and the reality of why I’m doing this claws at the back of my throat, ready to pull me under whenever I try to forget. This is a business deal. I am simply playing the role of a pawn in my father’s grand plan.

“What if I’m next?” Noelle’s greatest weakness is her overthinking nature; it's something we both do, but hers has become significantly worse since our mom died.

“Shhh, don’t worry about that now. Focus on going back to Paris to study.”

“Am I going to see you after today?” Her eyes well up. I’ve seen this look before; it’s the way she looked at me when I had to break the news about our mom.

“Of course, even if I have to come to Paris to see you, I promise.”

“Theresa, it’s time.” My father’s voice slices through the tender moment.

I nod and usher Noelle towards the door. “Go, you have to head in before I do.”

“You look beautiful, Theresa,” he coos from his spot in the doorway, where he leans against the door frame in an all-white suit. Usually, a bride has to worry about guests—mainly females—wearing white to their wedding. I’m sure none of them ever had to worry about their father doing it.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t pretend this is real,” I blurt out.

“This is real.”

“Yes, the situation is real, but don’t pretend that thismomentis real. This isn’t some sweet moment before you give me away to get married to the love of my life. You’re throwing me in the deep end and just hoping I can swim.”

“I would never do that, Theresa. I’ll be here every step of the way.”

“Until you get what you want from him, and then? What happens then, Dad? You sell me out just like you did to Mom?”

He flinches at the mention of her, but regains his composure just as quickly as he loses it. “Very well then. Let’s go.”

TheChâteau de la Messardièreis everything I could have ever dreamt of and more. The large courtyard is brought to life with fairy lights and the low-hanging sunlight that puts the views of the French Riviera on full display. The weather is warm, but not too hot since it’s later in the afternoon. Everything has come together perfectly to make this scene appear like one out of a storybook.

Everything is going great. I haven’t felt an ounce of nerves until right now as I stand at the back of the aisle leading to the altar.

I hook my arm into my father’s. “Make it believable, Theresa, we have an audience.”

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