Page 1 of Fixing to Be Mine

CHAPTER ONE

SUNNY

The wedding gown is perfect. It was designed by one of the most elite fashion companies of this century—Bellamore. It’s one of a kind, hand-stitched, and it was custom-made for me two months ago. The silk molds to my body like it was made to remember me, and every inch of it whispers elegance and exclusivity against my curves. I’m stepping into the next chapter of my beautiful, perfect, charmed life. But right now, I can’t help but feel like a dressed-up prop that’s pinned down. I’m just trying to breathe.

The bridal suite smells like roses and expensive perfume and hair spray. The energy is odd. My therapist would say it’s excitement, but it feels like anxiety. The whispers about the two powerful families coming together are not helping my nerves. Let me be clear: I don’t have cold feet.

Stylists circle me like bees, adjusting curls and dabbing my makeup. My mother is chatting with two of her best friends in that well-practiced tone. My best friend, Cora, is filming behind-the-scenes videos to create a montage of memories while my other bestie, Jade, complains about her peep-toe designer heels.

“Has anyone seen Skye?” I ask, searching around the room for my sister.

Everyone shakes their heads. I keep my expression neutral because I’ve learned I’m asked fewer questions when I don’t give reactions. From boardrooms to black-tie galas, I know how to command a room. I’ve had media training since I was ten, interviews since I was sixteen, and my parents have controlled my image longer than I’ve had control of my heart. That happens when you’re in line to become CEO of your family’s highly successful company.

Today is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. It’s one I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl, my fairy tale moment. I’mfinallymarrying the man I love after four years of being together. Donovan has always understood the weight I carry and never asked me to set it down. He held my hand when the press got too loud, when the world spun too fast, when the sun shone too damn bright.

I found safety with him, and for a woman like me, softness in a man is rare to find. It still doesn’t make sense that I’m nervous.

We’re both marrying into two different empires. Into legacies that were formed before we ever existed, that are full of scrutiny. He’s never seemed intimidated by the success I’ve had. If anything, him by my side is like armor.

A quiet panic has been circling my chest for the last twenty minutes. It’s emotion that comes before something big and life-changing happens. It’s too loud in the room, and I need to step away from the chaos and clear my mind. I need a breath to center myself before I become a wife.

No one notices as I slip out of the room. I’m careful not to step on my veil as it trails behind me. My heels click against the marble floor. There’s a room at the end of the hall, and I push the door open and move inside, but I immediately know I’m not alone.

Through the thin wall, I hear a soft, familiar laugh that’s followed by his voice. It’s laced with amusement, which onlyconfuses me more. My stomach hollows as the skin at the back of my neck prickles. Instinctively, I brace myself for impact.

I move toward the sound, unsure what I’m even looking for. There’s another door, slightly cracked, light spilling through the narrow seam. That’s when I hear her whisper his name—Donovan.She says my fiancé’s name desperately, the man I’m supposed to marry in less than an hour. I don’t need to push the door open; the crack is wide enough to see my little sister and my fiancé.

My world shatters.

His lips are on her neck, and her laughter follows. Donovan whispers back to her in the same tone that told me he loved me yesterday. The same one that proposed and promised me forever. Her dress is hiked up over her thighs, and his hand is dipping inside her panties. They’re pressed together like they’ve done this a hundred times before, like this isn’t the first time, but a pattern I somehow never noticed.

They’re giggling and kissing like they’re in love. They’re treating this day like it’s a joke, like I’m the joke.

I don’t gasp or run or fling the door wide like a woman in a soap opera. I don’t need to see more than I already have. I’ve gotten enough confirmation.

I step back, the fabric of my gown brushing against the doorframe as I leave. I’m done. I’m done performing and pretending. I move down the hallway that feels like a trail to my personal hell. Every step echoes like a countdown to an ending, not a wedding.

I enter the bridal suite, and it takes all of two seconds for the noise to catch me. Cameras. Champagne. People who believe I’m moments away from the best day of my life congratulate me. I’ve never been so fucking pissed. I look around, feeling numb from head to toe. My mother says something, but I can’t take it,so I leave everything behind. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to my escape.

“Okay, make sure you’re back in ten minutes,” she calls to me, then returns to her conversation with her friends.

I move toward the front exit, and people on the sidewalk stare at me.

“Look, she’s a princess,” one little girl says to me as I strut past her.

I try to smile, but it feels forced.

A valet stops me when I walk up to the vintage Camaro convertible that has aJust Marriedsign attached on the back. “Ma’am, excuse me.”

“Yes?” I ask, tearing the sign off the back and throwing it on the ground.

I pop open the trunk, rip the veil from my head, and throw it inside. I slam it shut, wondering if a part of me always knew they were sleeping together. I thought they were friendly and was happy they got along so well. It’s all beginning to make sense.

I stop and turn to the valet. “Give me the key.”

He opens his mouth, and I speak up and interrupt him. “Look, I saw my fiancé fooling around with my little sister forty-five minutes before we were supposed to get married. I need to get out of here right now.Please.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” he says.

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