Page 171 of Mexico Can Choke On It
He responds by dramatically throwing the hotel suite doors wide.
“Code White Swan! Our lady of wrath wants revenge! Give me outfits that scream ‘lethal injection.’”
Models scurry like runway rats.
“I require Chanel—the archival collection, not the influencer glam bin! GUCCI, but tastefully unhinged! Valentino with leg slits! Dior with vengeance in the hem! No Oscar de la Renta. Florals are for funerals and Fiona’s lackluster soul.”
Sebastian snaps his fingers. “Jewelry. I want weaponized sparkle. Give me earrings that sayback off, bitchand a necklace that whispersI brought receipts.”
He turns to me with manic glee. “You, my dear, are wearing white.”
“Isn’t that, like, the cardinal sin of weddings?”
“Exactly. You want vengeance? Step one: upstage the bride.”
“Step two?” I say as a flock of models circle me, ready to remake me from head to heel.
Sebastian’s grin widens.
“Save the groom. And step three: Make Mr. Sterling rue the day he didn’t choose you.”
***
Turnsout,infiltratingabillionaire wedding is super easy when you’re disguised as one of Sebastian’s lovely assistants.
I adjust my giant black sunglasses and stomp across Casa Cashmere’s manicured lawn, ready to fuck shit up. My white dress isdreamy—lace bodice, flowy skirt, covered by my leather jacket and combat boots. Because yes I feel pretty, but I also like feeling powerful. My tattoos are on full display, and my red lipstick is locked and loaded.
Sebastian Bellini is a fashion god. I look fucking hot.
I slip past the security guard and make it to the back of the ceremony tent, mentally rehearsing my dramatic entrance speech, when—
WHAM.
Something hard slams into my back, and suddenly I’m being bear-hugged from behind. My arms are pinned to my sides, and whoever’s got me is hauling ass toward what appears to be a service entrance.
“PUT ME DOWN, YOU LUNATIC!”
“Shhh!”
Taser! I need my taser.
I frantically paw at my leather jacket, trying to reach the pocket that’s hiding my lipstick-sized weapon. This is precisely the scenario Bryce envisioned when he gave them to me.
A hand covers my mouth before I can yell for help.
I thrash wildly, sending my sunglasses flying. I’m shoved into a closet, the door slamming shut and casting me into darkness. The second the grip lets up, I pull out my taser, whirling around with my finger on the trigger.
“Hey, asshole! I’m about to tase the fuck out of you. Turn the lights on nice and slow so I can see which one of Fiona’s goons you are.”
The lights flip on. It’s Bryce Sterling.
Of. Freaking. Course.
He stands in a black tuxedo, his bow tie perfectly straight, his golden hair styled in soft, touchable layers.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My arm drops. But not all the way. “You have two seconds to explain, or I will light up your balls.”
He glances at the taser, then back at me with a smirk. I want to slap it off his face.
