Black Queen

JOJO'S POV

According to the script Madame Silva sent, I'm supposed to meet the bridegroom at the venue entrance, then we'll walk into the hall together to the altar and the alliance will officially begin.

I'm striding to the entrance of the wedding hall in the black gown with the white veil covering my face when a hand pulls me into what looks like a supply room and the door slams shut.

I come face to face with Uncle Will— my father and his eyes have that intense gleam that he always gets when he's scheming something mischievous.

He looks at me and inhales sharply as he drinks in my appearance.

“What are you doing here?” I ask stiffly, subconsciously ticking all the personal hygiene boxes in my need to know why he's gawking at me like that.

He heaves out a dry cough and takes my hand.

“The gown's fitting for the occasion.” He comments dryly.

“I'm glad you approve of my wardrobe, Father.” I spite, reminding him that I haven't forgotten or forgiven him.

“I know you're doing this