THE BRIDE HE NEVER WANTED

ELENA

The hotel hallway smelled likeJasmine.

My heart hammered as I pressed the keycard against Suite 412-Victor's room. Our room, technically, since we were getting married in exactly fourteen hours. I'd left my own suite three floors down because I couldn't sleep, because pre-wedding excitement had me wired, because I wanted to surprise him with the silk lingerie I'd bought for tonight.

Surprise. Right.

The card beeped green. I pushed the door open quietly, already smiling.

The living room was dark, but golden light spilled from the bedroom doorway. I heard music playing softly-our playlist, the one we'd made together. My chest warmed as I slipped off my heels, wanting to catch him off guard.

Then I heard her laugh.

I froze in the middle of the room, my brain refusing to process what my ears were telling me. That was Jessica's laugh. My maid of honor. My college roommate. The woman who'd helped me pick out my wedding dress yesterday.

"Victor, we really need to stop." Her voice was breathy, familiar in a way that made my stomach turn. "The wedding's tomorrow morning."

"We have time." Victor's voice, low and satisfied. "Elena's probably asleep anyway, dreaming about her perfect day."

They laughed together, and the sound felt like glass breaking in my chest.

My feet moved on their own, carrying me toward the bedroom. The door was half-open, and I could see everything.

Jessica's dress was on the floor. Victor's shirt hung off the bedpost. They were tangled in the sheets-expensive sheets I'd picked out for our honeymoon suite. His hands were in her hair, and she was looking at him the way I thought she looked at me-with actual affection.

"You're terrible," Jessica said, but she was smiling. I could hear it.

"You love it. Admit it-this is so much better than your last relationship."

"Shut up and kiss me."

He did.

My phone slipped from my trembling hand and hit the hardwood floor with a crack that echoed like a gunshot.

Everything stopped.

Jessica's head whipped toward the door. Victor's eyes went wide. For one horrible second, we all just stared at each other.

"Elena-" Victor scrambled to sit up, reaching for the sheet. "Wait, this isn't-"

I ran.

"Elena, please!" His voice followed me down the hallway, desperate and panicked. "Let me explain!"

Explain what? I'd just watched my fiancé kiss my best friend in the bed that was supposed to be ours. What explanation could possibly matter?

I jabbed the elevator button over and over, my whole body shaking. The doors opened-thank God-and I threw myself inside, hitting the lobby button like it was Victor's face.

He appeared at the end of the hallway, wearing only his boxer briefs, his hair messed up from Jessica's hands.

Our eyes met as the elevator doors slid shut.

I made it to my car before the tears came. Big, choking sobs that I couldn't control. I gripped the steering wheel and tried to breathe, tried to think, but all I could see was them together. Laughing about me. About how predictable I was. How boring.

Three years. I'd given him three years of my life. I'd turned down a job in New York because he didn't want to leave. I'd smiled through his mother's criticism and his friends' inappropriate jokes. I'd convinced myself that compromising meant loving someone.

And the whole time, he'd been sleeping with Jessica.

How long? Weeks? Months? Had they laughed about me while I was picking out centerpieces?

My phone buzzed in my lap. Victor's name lit up the screen. Once. Twice. Ten times.

I turned it off and started driving.

I had no destination in mind. I just drove, letting the city blur past my windows as tears streamed down my face. The roads got emptier as I climbed into the hills, away from the lights and people and the hotel where my perfect wedding was supposed to happen tomorrow.

The rain started suddenly, turning from a drizzle to a downpour in seconds. My windshield wipers could barely keep up. I knew I should pull over, should stop and figure out what to do next, but stopping meant thinking. Thinking meant feeling. And I couldn't handle feeling this yet.

The road curved sharply, and through the rain-blurred windshield, I saw it-an old stone bridge stretching across a dark valley. And standing at the edge, barely visible in the storm, was a figure in white.

A woman. Leaning way too far over the railing.

My foot slammed the brake. The car skidded, tires squealing, before jerking to a stop on the shoulder.

The woman didn't even turn around.

I threw open my door and ran into the rain, instantly soaked. "Hey! Don't!"

She turned slowly, and even through the rain, I could see her face. Beautiful, delicate features. Dark hair plastered to her cheeks. And eyes that looked as dead as I felt.

"Go away," she said quietly.

"Not happening." I approached carefully, hands raised. "Please come down from there."

"You don't understand."

"Then tell me."

She studied me for a long moment, rain running down both our faces. Then something in her expression cracked. "I'm supposed to get married tomorrow. To a man I've never met. A man my family sold me to like I'm property."

My heart clenched. "You don't want to marry him."

"He's dangerous. Powerful. And he doesn't care what I want." Her voice broke. "My father says it's for the family. That I should be grateful. That girls like me don't get choices."

I thought about Victor. About the wedding that was supposed to happen in less than fourteen hours. About the three hundred guests expecting to see me walk down an aisle to a man who'd been cheating on me.

"What if you didn't have to?" The words came out before I could stop them.

She blinked at me. "What?"

"What if someone else went in your place?" I stepped closer, rain streaming into my eyes. "What if I married him instead?"

"That's insane."

"Is it?" I laughed, and it sounded slightly unhinged. "I was supposed to get married tomorrow too. Big wedding, designer dress, the works. Except I just found my fiancé in bed with my maid of honor."

Her eyes widened.

"So I have a dress. I have wedding hair and makeup scheduled. I have a whole day planned that's now completely pointless." I held out my hand. "Why shouldn't I use it for something that actually matters? You get your freedom. I get to disappear. We both get to start over."

"You don't know what you're offering. This man-Dante Castellano-he's not someone you cross. If he finds out you're not me..."

"Then I'll deal with it." I was surprised by how much I meant it. Safe hadn't worked out for me. Perfect had been a lie. Maybe dangerous was exactly what I needed. "What's your name?"

She hesitated, then slowly climbed down from the railing. "Sophia. Sophia Laurent."

I took her hand. It was freezing. Or maybe that was mine.

"Elena Morrison. Your stand-in bride, apparently."

For the first time, something like hope flickered in her eyes. "We should get out of this rain."

"Probably."

But neither of us moved for a moment. Just two women who'd reached the end of their ropes, standing in a storm, about to make the worst decision of our lives.

Sophia nodded toward a black car parked further down the road. "I have an apartment in the city. We need to talk about what you're agreeing to."

I followed her, leaving my car on the shoulder. Leaving my phone somewhere in the front seat. Leaving my old life behind.