Alpha Billionaire Series

WILLOW

It wasn't exactly what I had planned for my wedding day, but a simple white cocktail dress in February, in a sprawling apartment in DC would have to do. Mom and Dad rode with me in the limo Charles sent for us, or Peter rather. It seemed to be that he was the one pulling all the proverbial strings. Charles wasn’t that much of a mover and a shaker.

“I wish you'd have told us sooner that you were back together. I know how much you loved him.” My mom fidgeted with my mock veil, covering only my eyes in a sheer tulle material. The pillbox hat I wore irritated me, but Mom insisted it was a must for my winter wedding. She swore I looked just like Jackie O, and I didn’t protest. There was likely going to be so much arguing in this marriage that today didn’t need to be filled with nonsensical bickering.

“I know, Mom. It happened sort of suddenly for me too.” I smiled, pushing her hands away. “I got it”

She stared at my reflection in the mirror as I adjusted the veil and forced a smile. Nina popped her head in the door and called for us. I'd only just met her this morning when I met with Peter to go over the wedding plans. Apparently, Charles had only two hours for the entire pre-wedding plans, the ceremony, and the dinner afterward—which was limited to me and my parents and him and his.

His parents knew about the arrangement; mine did not, and I told him I needed to keep it that way. There was no wa my parents would understand a marriage of convenience. And if they knew I wanted money to expand my business, and that was why I was selling myself short like this, they'd just write the check. No, thank you. I would do this my way.

“Thanks, Nina.”

“Who's that?” Mom asked as soon as the campaign volunteer left.

I turned to face her, keeping my pasted-on smile intact. “That's Charles’ assistant, Mom. No big deal.” I shrugged, wondering if I should be worried that he had the blonde bimbo here. Her hair was obviously straight out of a bottle, and I didn’t like her. Not from the second we met.

“Well, I don’t care for her makeup.” Mom fluffed her hair and turned back to face me. “Yours, however, is perfect.”

I smiled as Dad walked in, ready to give me away. If he only knew what he was giving me over to, he'd put an end to i immediately, but I kept the secret too well. Enjoying the book? Don't forget to visit J o bni b.c o m for the full experience. You won't find the next complete chapter anywhere else. He escorted me out into the living room to silence—my choice. No song in the world would express what I was feeling in that moment, and the silence of mourning was the only thing I wanted. He walked me right up the large picture window that overlooked the Potomac where the priest stood waiting, with robes on and Bible in hand.

The ceremony itself was quite short. The man read from I Corinthians I3, the passage about love. All I could think about when my hand slipped into Charles's is how much I used to love him, and how he had not loved me at all. I had to close my eyes and picture that check for two-hundred grand just to get through it all. We opted for standard vows, nothing fancy, just whatever the priest came up with, which shortened the ceremony further.

When the priest told us to kiss, I froze. I didn't really think about the “you may now kiss your bride” part of the wedding. I just thought of the money. If I kissed him, I knew I'd feel something—hate or sparks, I wasn't sure which. If I didn’t kiss him, I knew my parents would suspect something was up. I stared up at his face, stoic and calm. He didn’t lean down to kiss me, so I hooked my arms around his shoulders. It was tense and awkward. It had been sever years.

Seven years full of anger and hatred, animosity, nightmares, crying.

This man was the loathsome beast who destroyed my heart and now I had to kiss him. And what was more, I had to make it look real for the cameras, because my next job—according to my contract—was to post those wedding bliss pictures on my social media. I had to tell everyone in my life that I was married, not fake married. The real kind, with cake, and pictures, and a gown.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity staring into his eyes wishing he would vanish into a puff of smoke and a check would appear in my fingers, he leaned down and kissed me. His lips were supple but firm, just the way I remembered them. They parted slightly, spreading mine with them, and he kissed me. Not just a peck of “hey we got married and this is my new wife” but a real passionate, “look woman I want to f**k you” sort of kiss.

My knees almost buckled, and he pulled my body against his, holding me up. I let him plunge his tongue into my mouth and devour me, taking my breath and my dignity in one fell swoop. My body sparked, my heartbeat quickening as he refused to let up. It was like the past seven years of desire came out in that quick kiss that was ove before I was ready. He pulled away, lingering there.

I almost melted into the carpet beneath me, and Charles must have known. He held me tightly against his body as the priest announced us man and wife and our few guests clapped for us. We stood there awkwardly staring into each other's eyes with tension mounting between us for a few more seconds until Nina interrupted, pulling my new husband away.

“We need to get started on dinner or you'll be late for the debate.” Nina hooked her talons around his bicep and forced him backward, though his eyes stayed locked on mine. I noticed the glare on her face at the same time I noticed the red lipstick smeared all over his lips.

Mom was there in an instant, tears in her eyes, hugging me. And Dad gave me a kiss on the cheek, escorting me to th table. The rest of the night was a blur. All I could think about after dinner was that kiss. Even when I was alone in tha massive apartment opening gifts by myself.

I felt something I never thought I'd feel again.

And I was pretty sure he'd felt it too. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.