OLIVIA
Las Vegas, USA
I woke up married.
That caught your eye, did it not?
And now you are wondering what the hell it means.
Well, I will tell you.
I did wake up married to a complete stranger after having my heart broken by my fiancé of five years.
Now you are interested, and you want to understand how that happened.
Well, do not let me keep you in suspense.
My name is Olivia Baker, and yes, this is my sad tale.
When I walked into the Club Titan, I had no idea what I was searching for.
The only thing I knew was that my life was over.
My eyes blurred as I located the bar.
Just one drink, I thought.
I had never had alcohol in my life, but right now, I needed it.
"Anything strong," I muttered to the bartender.
He stared at me, his eyes clouding over with concern and who wouldn't be concerned?
I was wearing a fucking wedding dress.
I stared at my gloved fingers, stared at my engagement ring in disgust.
It was a beautiful ring and the day I had received it had been the happiest day of my life but now it weighed on my finger like a curse.
"Here," the bartender said.
I reached for the glass with shaky hands, downing the hot liquid.
I began coughing as soon as it hit my throat, my eyes watering and my chest burning.
"Another," I croaked.
I could feel the tension in my shoulders easing, and soon I was light, my eyes blurred.
Oh-oh, I thought.
I had never seen drunk me before, but I did feel emboldened because only alcohol would make me turn around and cast a smile at the dark-haired stranger at the far end of the room.
I walked up to him, my smile wide.
"Would you like to get married?" I put out a hand, careful not to trip over the hem of my dress.
He regarded me with eyes hidden behind dark glasses, and I suddenly felt very shy.
I wondered if it was too late for me to flee.
"Sit."
I frowned at the command in his tone, my entire body repelling the idea of doing as he asked, but he did not give me much of a choice when he pulled me onto the seat, his strong grip on my arm.
"Let go of me," I muttered in protest.
Tasteful lips curved into a smile, and he reached for the glasses that had been blocking his eyes from me.
My breath hitched in my lungs.
Brown eyes like hot liquid chocolate stared at me.
"I would love to get married," he murmured. "But first, you might want to tell me your name."
"Olivia," I breathed. "And I wasn't… I was just—"
"I do, Olivia."
When he smiled, my heart did a double flip in my chest.
He handed me another shot, and I downed it, hoping it would calm whatever madness was on a rampage in my stomach, but it sadly only made it worse.
"What is your deal?" he asked.
"I know this is Las Vegas and anything is possible, but you are in a wedding dress." His eyes took in my appearance for added measure. "So what is your deal?"
"I was stood up," I murmured.
That was a lie.
I wasn't stood up… I had just not attended my own wedding.
"What bastard would do that to you?" he growled low in his throat.
It made me feel warm, and I attributed that to the fact that I was most definitely drunk.
I shrugged.
Liam and I had been engaged for two years and dated for three.
We were the power couple of my father's real estate firm, where he worked as the managing director and I worked directly under him.
It was love at first sight…until the photo.
I chuckled bitterly.
This morning, I had woken up with the thrill of knowing that in a couple of hours, I would be married to him, but the truth is he had been cheating on me.
In fact, that same morning, while I was in the clouds with happiness, my fiancé, Liam, was in bed with Emily, my best friend.
Yes, I know how utterly cliché it sounds, and I am embarrassed that I had not noticed anything sooner.
Or maybe I had just been too fucking blind.
The stranger, whose name I still did not know, got to his feet, towering over me… all six foot two of him.
He put a hand out to me.
"Well, Olivia… I believe we have a wedding to get to."
I put my hand in his, against my better judgment, and allowed him to lead me out of the club.
The wind hit my face, and with it came that recklessness.
"So?" I prompted.
He pointed at the courthouse across from the club.
It was ironic that one was situated directly in front of where people came to make bad decisions, but I guess it made sense, just a little bit.
"There," he said.
I turned to him.
He did seem serious, so why the hell not?
I held his hand, and we walked over to the courthouse.
And just like that, dearest readers, we were married.
"It is our wedding night, Olivia," the dark-haired stranger drawled, his eyes hinting at wild promises of desire.
I swallowed, my body alive.
"Indeed it is," I breathed.
We boarded a cab to a hotel and checked in.
The room was a suite, and it overlooked the whole city.
"You never did tell me your name," I teased.
"Enrique," he said.
He wasn't English.
"Spanish," he supplied.
"It is a pleasure to be married to you, Enrique," I laughed.
It was the only thing I could do, mainly because we were now staring at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.
"The pleasure is all mine, Olivia."
Enrique's tasteful lips crashed into mine, strong arms wrapping around my waist, pressing me against him.
For that night, I let myself go, and I finally felt alive for what seemed like the longest time.
And now you are wondering what happens next…
Now you have to flip the next page because how then do you know what disaster follows after this?