The dresses arrived, and I had to go downstairs to check them. Leonardo was already there, seated, phone pressed to his ear. The sight of him made my stomach churn, so I turned my face, pretending I hadn't seen him.
He ended his call and leaned back, gesturing toward the pile of white dresses.
"Try them on."
I hesitated, the thought of changing in front of him twisting my insides. But before I could object, Helen stepped in, reading my discomfort.
"This way," she said gently, guiding me toward a small dressing room off to the side.
Inside, I stared at the mountain of fabric. Trying on wedding dresses—dresses I didn't want—felt like surrender. But what choice did I have? At least Leonardo hadn't killed me yesterday. I could call that a win... for now.
I pulled on the first dress—a sleeveless gown with a furry jacket that felt more suited for a high-society brunch than a wedding. I stepped out, awkwardly crossing my arms, standing in front of Leonardo in the most unladylike pose possible.
He barely glanced at me.
"No."
I exhaled sharply, biting down on my irritation. So this was how it would be.
Dress after dress, floral, sleeveless, floor-length, and each time, the answer was the same.
"No. No. No."
If I kept this up, I'd either faint from exhaustion or strangle him with the next dress.
Finally, he pointed toward a dress hanging on a lone rack in the corner.
"That one. The middle dress."
I blinked, noticing for the first time the second set of clothes. A fresh wave of frustration bubbled up.
"Please don't tell me I have to try on all of these," I muttered under my breath.
Dragging the fabric off the hanger, I retreated to the dressing room. This dress was different—simpler but elegant. It hugged my curves in all the right places, modest yet impossible to ignore.
I brushed my hand over the material, and that's when I saw it: the price tag. My heart stopped. The cost of this single dress could clear my debts at the office and cover rent for a year.
For a moment, I imagined running away with it. It was enough to start over—enough to escape all of this.
His voice snapped me back to reality.
"I'm not a man who likes to be kept waiting."
I swallowed my frustration, smoothed the bodice, and stepped out. Leonardo's gaze drifted over me, cool and unreadable. His almond-shaped eyes—blue and bottomless—betrayed nothing.
He gave a slight nod.
"This one will do."
He turned to leave without another word. I almost stopped him, the price still glaring at me, but I thought better of it. If this dress drained his pockets, so be it.
He asked for it after all.
Back in the dressing room, I handed the gown to a worker to be packed away. But the number on the tag lingered in my mind, like a guilty secret I couldn't shake.
---
Lunch came and went without fanfare. Helen informed me that Leonardo had left on a business trip. For a fleeting moment, I hoped this wedding might happen over a Zoom call.
---
I stood in front of the mirror, Emiliana and Helen fussing over me. The dress was a masterpiece—floor-length with gold lace and tiny pearls stitched along the fabric. It hugged my body perfectly, accentuating every curve without revealing too much. I looked... beautiful.
For a moment, a lump rose in my throat. I wished my father were alive to see me. He would have told me how proud he was, even if the circumstances were far from ideal. But I swallowed the tears before they could ruin my makeup.
"You look stunning, Kimberly," Emiliana whispered, her hands resting on my shoulders.
I gave her a small, reluctant smile. Somehow, they had managed to bring out the version of me I thought was long gone—graceful, feminine, and polished.
Luciana, Emiliana's daughter, tugged on my dress, her floral gown swaying as she grinned.
"I'm ready, Mama!" she announced, twirling like a tiny princess.
I knelt down, smoothing her hair. "You look like a princess, Lu." She beamed, and for a moment, I forgot how miserable I felt.
---
The ceremony passed in a blur of flashing cameras and forced smiles. We stood before a crowd of celebrities, mafia families, and strangers with polished masks. I noticed a woman at the far table, her gaze sharp and predatory, as if she could devour me whole. I didn't know who she was, but something about her felt dangerous.
The priest's voice boomed, dragging me from my thoughts.
"Your vows. Repeat after me."
"I, Kimberly…" I echoed his words, feeling each one settle over me like a shackle.
Leonardo stood beside me, calm and composed. When the priest asked if anyone objected to the union, the room stayed silent. I held my breath, praying for some miracle that would never come.
"Do you, Leonardo, take Kimberly—"
"I do," Leonardo said smoothly, without hesitation.
My turn came, and the words stuck in my throat. The priest's gaze rested on me, expectant. I could feel Leonardo's fingers graze mine—a subtle warning.
"I…" The sound barely escaped my lips. "I do."
The words felt like stones on my tongue, dragging me down.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Leonardo wasted no time. His lips pressed against mine, cold and deliberate. Cameras flashed, applause erupted, and the room swirled in a haze of fake joy.
---
We mingled with the guests afterward, exchanging greetings that felt as hollow as the vows I had just spoken. Mario, pulled me into a warm hug.
"Welcome, Kimberly."
I forced a smile.
"Thank you, Mario."
But in my mind, the words were different.
"Welcome to Hell."
Leonardo's hand closed around mine, guiding me through the crowd like I was a prized possession on display.
The reception was brief, a few glasses of wine, a short dance, and more photos. Then, Leonardo leaned in and whispered, "It's time to go."
Outside, the paparazzi swarmed like locusts, their cameras flashing with relentless urgency. I plastered on a smile, pretending not to see the iron bars closing in around me.
Leonardo opened the car door, and I slid inside, feeling the weight of the life I was about to enter.
As the car sped off, the lights of the city blurred behind us. I stared out the w
indow, heart sinking deeper into the pit of uncertainty.
We were heading to the prison I now knew as home.