Chapter 4

I had two hours to erase Adrian from my skin. It wasn't enough.

The hot shower scalded but didn't cleanse. Every mark he'd left felt branded into me.

Vincent was sitting up in his hospital bed when I arrived, looking stronger than he had any right to. His eyes tracked me from the doorway, sharp and calculating.

"Come here, sweetheart."

I crossed the room. His hand shot out, pulling me onto the bed beside him. Before I could react, his mouth was on my neck, tongue dragging across my skin.

I froze. Could he taste Adrian there?

"Mmm." Vincent pulled back, frowning. "New perfume?"

"Yes." The lie came out steady. "For the wedding."

His suspicion melted into that predatory smile. "Speaking of which—we're finishing the ceremony today. I'm not waiting another minute to make you mine."

My stomach dropped.

"But you said we have three days."

"Can go to hell." His fingers dug into my wrist. "I've arranged everything. Four o'clock. The hospital chapel. You'll be Mrs. Russo by sunset."

There was no arguing with him. There never was.

The bridal suite at the estate was suffocating. Rosa had laid out the wedding dress—white silk that might as well have been a noose. I stared at my reflection as she zipped me up, painting a beautiful corpse.

The door opened without a knock.

Adrian stood there in his groomsman suit, charcoal gray that made his eyes look like storm clouds.

"You can't be here," I said automatically. "Bad luck to see the bride before—"

"Fuck tradition." He crossed to me, stopping close enough that I could feel his heat. "Last chance, Iris. Come with me. Right now."

My reflection stared back at me—bride or prisoner, I couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"My father's debt," I whispered. "They'll kill him if I run."

Adrian's jaw clenched. Then his hands landed on my shoulders, turning me to face him.

"Then marry him." His voice dropped to something dark and dangerous. "And be mine anyway."

"What?"

"You heard me." He removed his glasses, tucking them into his pocket. Without them, his eyes were naked want. "Be his wife on paper. Be my woman in reality."

My heart was trying to break through my ribs. "That's insane—"

"We're already insane." His fingers tightened on my shoulders. "The moment you kissed me back, there was no going back. You know that."

God help me, he was right.

"So?" Adrian's thumb traced my collarbone, right over the mark he'd left. "What's your answer?"

I should have said no. Should have pushed him away.

Instead, I kissed him.

When we broke apart, his eyes had gone black with hunger. "That's my girl." He straightened my veil with careful fingers. "Now let's go make you Mrs. Russo. In name only."

The hospital chapel smelled like antiseptic and dying flowers. Vincent waited at the altar in his wheelchair, nurses flanking him like guards. The few witnesses were his business associates—men who'd watched him paw me at dinner parties without blinking.

I walked down the aisle alone. No father to give me away. He'd already done that for two million dollars.

Vincent's eyes devoured me as I approached. "Beautiful," he rasped, reaching for my hand. "Finally."

Adrian stood beside him as best man, ramrod straight in his suit. Our eyes met for one second. The heat in his gaze made my knees weak.

The priest began. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here—"

Vincent's hand was clammy in mine, his breathing labored. Every second felt like drowning.

"Iris Bennett," the priest intoned. "Do you take Vincent Russo to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward—"

Behind me, I heard Adrian's breath catch. Sharp and ragged.

Vincent's nails dug into my palm, breaking skin. His silent demand.

"I—" The word stuck in my throat like glass.

"Miss Bennett?" The priest prompted.

"I do."

The words came out hollow. Behind me, something shattered—a water glass hitting the floor. I didn't need to turn around to know whose hand had crushed it.

"Vincent Russo," the priest continued, "do you take—"

"I do." Vincent didn't let him finish. "I absolutely do."

"Then by the power vested in me—"

"Wait." Adrian's voice cut through the chapel like a blade. "I'm sorry, Father. But there's an urgent call from cardiology. Your test results—there's a problem with your heart. They need you immediately."

The color drained from Vincent's face. "What? What kind of problem?"

"They didn't specify." Adrian's expression was perfectly blank. "But they said it can't wait."

For a moment, I thought Vincent would refuse. His fingers tightened on mine painfully. But fear won—it always did with him.

"Fine." He released my hand. "We'll finish this after. Don't go anywhere, Iris."

The nurses wheeled him out. The witnesses dispersed. Within minutes, the chapel was empty except for me and Adrian.

"There's no problem with his heart, is there?" I asked quietly.

Adrian adjusted his cuffs. "Not yet."

Before I could process that, his phone rang—genuine this time. His face went blank as he listened.

"I see. I'll be right there." He hung up, and for the first time, I saw real shock in his eyes. "He collapsed during the tests. His heart—it's real this time."

---

They said Vincent wouldn't wake up for hours. Maybe longer. The incomplete wedding vows hung over us like a curse.

I went back to the estate alone, still wearing the wedding dress. Legally, I wasn't Mrs. Russo yet. The ceremony hadn't been completed.

Small mercy.

I stood in my room staring at nothing when the door opened. Adrian filled the doorway, his jacket gone, tie loosened, looking like sin walking.

"Shouldn't you be at the hospital?" My voice came out smaller than intended.

"He's unconscious." Adrian stepped inside, locking the door with a deliberate click. "Which means I can do what I came here to do."

My pulse jumped. "What's that?"