4. I Now Pronounce You Unwilling and Stubborn

-Leia-

It’s been a month since I had that argument with Christian and in a few hours, I’ll be his wife. His gold-digging wife with zero respect for herself.

When I told my mother what was happening and that it would help with her treatment, she wouldn’t talk to me for a week. Not because she felt disappointed in me, but because she blamed herself for it. She thinks her cancer pushed me to do this, truth be told I am doing this for her but I would do it again and again if it would help.

I’m paying for her first round of treatments and my debt in full tonight. There’s an upside to my wedding day!

Currently getting preened and pampered in my wedding suite, I allow myself to be transformed into a woman I do not recognize. This is who the Moores need, this is what I’m being paid to be so I can’t complain.

After I’m done being dolled up and the dress slipped on, I take a look at myself in the mirror and groan. I’ve always dreamt of having a huge wedding one day, now I’m getting it just with the wrong groom.

The dress is beautiful, though; sweetheart neckline, cinched in at my waistline and flares out, made from the finest silks and lace with Swarovski crystal embellishments and a 2-meter train.

“Look at you,” Delilah says as she walks in. “Ready to become a hoity-toity bitch?”

“Shut up,” I chuckle, and wrap my arms around her. “I’m ready to bolt and go back to my Mamma.”

My mom couldn’t be here and I wasn’t going to force her, either. She’s having a terrible reaction to her treatments and is constantly vomiting, so I told her to stay at the care center because this isn’t my real wedding, anyway. 

“Hmm, I’m sorry,” she rubs my back. “If it’s any consolation, Lucas dropped us for Milan Fashion Week, so I’m all alone here, too.”

I giggle and nod; it should have been all three of us, but now I’m forcing Delilah to mingle with the type of people she can’t stand. Being an artist, she sees beauty where there’s none, but with wealthy people she sees nothing. So she calls them porcelain dolls, pretty to look at with no soul behind their dead eyes.

“Well, none of you bitches are ditching me on my actual wedding day, okay?” I exclaim, suddenly feeling tearful. Another few embraces and shooting the shit before Olivia calls and lets us know we’re heading to the church.

Semi-showtime.

On the way to church, Oliva pats my hand and gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s a pity your mother is feeling poorly. I would have loved to meet her,” she says. 

I accidentally let slip about my mother’s cancer while trying on my wedding dress. My mother couldn’t make it and I ended up bawling my eyes out in Olivia’s arms and spilling out my reason behind saying yes to Alexander. At least now she won’t think any less of me, as Christian does.

“Hopefully we can all have brunch together when she’s feeling better,” I say, returning her smile. I love Olivia, she’s the sweetest woman under the sun. No wonder Alexander dotes on her.

We take a turn close to the church and my heart drops at the sight of the line of paparazzi waiting outside. The second they see the limo, they rush toward it, snapping pictures and annoying the hell out of Olivia. 

“This is going to be more difficult than I expected,” she groans and pulls out her cell phone when the limo stops in front of the church steps. 

A few minutes later, five men walk out to clear a path for us, and only then does Olivia open the limo door. “Whatever you do, don’t listen to them,” she warns before getting out and holding her hand for me to take.

Ten steps up, and I already feel like a cheap floozy with the embarrassing questions they’re throwing at me. Bought wife, a gold digger, and even a mail-order bride! Damn, I knew the Moores were wealthy, but I didn’t expect them to get this kind of tabloid treatment. Shows me just how blind I was to my boss’ fame prior to this.

We arrive just in time and an unknown man takes my arm to lead me down the aisle. As usual, Christian looks impeccable and absolutely gorgeous in his suit, even if he did have a pale color to his face and wore a terrible scowl. Oh well, I want to be here even less than you, guy!

Vows are said, I do’s are mumbled half-heartedly and when it comes to the kiss, we both make sure it's over as quickly as possible. Although I must admit Christian’s lips are super soft and he smells divine. 

With fake smiles plastered on our faces, we walk towards the front of the church in a rain of confetti and well wishes. The reception hasn’t even started and I already want this damn day to be over. I can only fake a smile for so long.

Christian opens the limo door for me and I clamber in with him right behind me. The drive to the reception hall is fraught with anxiety in the limo, with neither Christian nor I acknowledging one another. Besides, what exactly do I say to a man who called me a gold-digging whore? 

And being the stubborn ass I am so proud of being, I refuse to be the first one to say anything.

The limo stops at the reception hall and Christian gets out first before holding his hand out for me to take, that scowl ever-present. I am almost impressed by his gentlemanly ways when he pulls me close to him and whispers:

“There are important people here. Try not to embarrass me too much, Red,” then he kisses my cheek and leads me towards the hall while I’m trying to push down my anger.

How absolute dare?! He can be lucky I’m exhausted and cranky or I would show him just how embarrassing I can get! Gosh, the nerve of this man, I swear to God.

The last waves of wellwishers come to greet us when we approach the bridal table and, for some reason, I feel Christian stiffen up next to me. I frown and turn my head toward him when I see what he’s looking at. A handsome older gent approaches with an absolutely gorgeous blonde on his arm, smiling brightly at us.

“There he is,” the man says, shaking Christian’s hand and pulling him closer for a hug. “Never would have thought I’d see you tying the knot, little brother.”

WAIT, WAIT - HOLD UP! There’s another Moore brother? Since when?!

“It’s been a whirlwind,” Christian says through literal clenched teeth, then he turns to me. “Leia, this is my stepbrother, Damon, and his… lovely wife, Amber.” 

There’s definite tension between these brothers, especially when Christian says Amber’s name. What the hell went on between them? 

I flash them both my best smile and Damon embraces me. “Hold on to this one, Chris, she’s a keeper,” he says, chuckling, and I can’t help but catch the amusement in Damon’s tone. 

“She’s met you, how can I?” Christian says, shooting back with venom and a fake smile, glaring at him for some or other reason, and it makes me even more damn curious. Why does Christian hate Damon so much?

Amber also hugs me with a giggle as fake as her boobs, but just as I’m about to pull away, she digs her nails into my upper arm. “Enjoy him now, but just remember when he’s on top of you, he’ll wish it were me.”

With those whispered words, Amber pulls away with the same fake smile plastered on her face as she turns to wish Christian well. Meanwhile, I’m left wondering what the hell kind of family I married into.