KIMBERLY

once knew all the details about my future wedding was the same way I knew what would happen on the morning of my wedding.

Mom would be helping me get ready with Vivian. Even though everyone would expect me to hire professionals, I wouldn't. Mom always knew how I liked my hair, and Vivian was the only other person I trusted with doing my makeup naturally.

We'd be laughing together. Smiling happily, looking forward to the day ahead of us.

Once I was done getting ready, Dad would be standing at the door with a proud smile on his face. He'd come up to me, holding my face in his comforting hands, placing a kiss on my forehead.

Mom would start yelling at him to not mess with the perfection she created atop my head and he would laugh, kissing her with as much adoration as she deserved.

We'd be laughing. We'd be smiling. We'd be happy.

This wasn't what I wanted.

It was a perfect day. The perfect end-of-summer weather. The perfect venue with the perfect decorations. The perfect hair. The perfect makeup. Everything was so fucking perfect, but I couldn't find it in myself to be happy.

"Raya, could I get a minute alone with Kim?" Vivian asked from my side.

Mom nodded, leaving the room. The second she was gone, the smile I had on my face completely dropped. I didn't want her to feel guilty or upset about all of this, so I kept up a facade to show I was okay.

That I was okay with this.

"God, what's wrong with me?" I sighed, exasperatedly. "Everything's amazing, Vivi. Why can't I fucking smile like I fucking mean it?"

My body started shaking, tears threatening to come out. Vivian wrapped me into her arms. "Let it out, babe."

Just like I fell to my knees in the boutique, I fell to the ground, shaking with violent sobs into Vivian's shoulder.

"I just...I just..." I could barely get the words out, choking over the tears. "I feel like I'm betraying him. It should've been him, Vivi. It was always supposed to be him."

I already knew what she wanted to say. Today was a mirror of the day we went wedding-dress shopping.

He would want you to be happy.

But, I didn't care what he wanted. Call me selfish, but I cared about what I wanted. And I always wanted him.

"Kimberly Nyla Astor"—she grabbed my face and pulled it back to look me in the eyes—"you are the last person on Earth who cries while looking this good. So, stand up and wipe those tears away. If there's anyone who can do this, it's you."

Thankfully, she didn't say the words I thought would come out of her mouth. Even though I probably needed to hear it, I didn't want to hear it.

With her help, I stood up and wiped the tears with a soft cloth. She got to fixing my hair and makeup when my eyes drifted down to the necklace and my hand came up to meet it.

"I should probably take this off."

Vivian was normally great at keeping a poker face, but her eyes flashed with understandable shock.

In the many years I've had this necklace, there was not a single day when I willingly took it off. The only time it wasn't around my neck was when I was absolutely required to take it off for photoshoots or runways.

Never, not even once, did a day pass by when I suggested taking it off.

"Are you sure?" she asked, worry evident in her tone.

No.

"Yes," I replied. "It doesn't match the ambiance." A forced laugh came out at my futile attempt of making a joke. There was not an outfit in the world that would make me take this off and I was a stickler for fashion.

Her delicate hands came up to the base of my neck to take it off. The second the clasp unhooked and the gold chain brushed against my skin, a wave of panic coursed through my body.

I was so not ready for this.

"I'll hold onto it." She placed the necklace into the pocket of her dress. "If you need it at any point, I have it here for you."

A sharp knock on the door interrupted me from responding as we both turned to face it.

"Kimberly," Dad called out. "It's time."

Somebody, sedate me.

♕♕♕

The urge to throw up was stronger than usual.

Rightfully so, of course.

If this is what rich people call a 'small' wedding, I would hate to be a part of a 'large' one. There had to be at least four-hundred people here, including the obscene amount of press to cover this wedding.

Only a few of the press here were given access to the wedding planning that Soraya, Efthymia, and Lucille were in charge of, ensuring that they wouldn't put out any negative articles about Kimberly for the next year.

It was a tough deal for me to secure, but it was part of the cleanup Liam wanted for Kimberly.

Speaking of the devil, the events of last night replayed in my head over and over again as I jerked off with the same hand that was in her.

I hated myself for that.

Hated myself for agreeing to her bullshit amendment.

Hated myself for not being able to control myself and acting on it instantly.

Hated myself for not being able to stop thinking about her.

Alex brought me out of my thoughts. "Are you alright, son?"

Son. I couldn't help but internally cringe after hearing the word leaving his mouth. There was nothing wrong with Alex. In fact, he was a great guy and an amazing father, but even though I was theoretically his son, I didn't feel that way.

He was Genessa and Anastasia's dad. Hell, he was like a second dad to Kimberly.

But, to me, he was just... Alex.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "I'm just thinking about the meeting with the Japanese investors tomorrow."

"Jace, it's your wedding," he laughed awkwardly.

"You and I both know it's nothing more than business." I wanted to stab myself because of the hurt and guilt that flashed through his eyes. Being rude to Alex was like kicking a fucking wounded puppy; you had to be a monster to do so.

Maybe Kimberly had a point.

I was in a superbly crappy mood.

Mom's doctor called this morning just to tell me her condition was stagnant, Emre informed me his flight would be late, and—on top of all that—Savannah informed me that Kimberly was crying herself to sleep last night during her bachelorette party.

There was no reason for that to affect me as much as it did. I gave her many chances to back out of the wedding, but she stood her ground. Then, while I was jacking off to the fucking thought of her, she was crying about getting married to me.

I felt disgusting.

Efthymia came up next to Alex. "Kim's coming out soon. Let's get to our seats, Alex."

With a small smile on their face, they left me at the head of the altar, waiting for my bride.

Much to my surprise, an instrumental of a song I didn't know played instead of the normal bridal processional as everyone stood up, waiting for Kimberly to walk down the aisle.

But this did nothing to ease the nerves that were coursing through my body. I had no reason to be this fucking nervous. A few more seconds passed by before gasps of excitement filled the venue.

I didn't want to look at her. I focused on anything else but her. The glass walls and ceiling that were flooding the venue with natural light, the arrangements of flowers that were completely Soraya and Efthymia's doing, the twinkling lights dangling across the room.

Anything but her.

My plan didn't last for too long as the infuriating vixen caught my eye and my breath.

She looked ethereal. Absolutely angelic and nothing like the temptress I was so used to.

And just like the goddess.

She looked beautiful, but she didn't look like herself. Well, she looked less like her usual self. I was expecting the fake smile, the one that didn't quite reach her eyes. But I wasn't expecting the deep level of sadness swirling around her normally fiery brown eyes.

Savannah's warning of her actions from last night should have tipped me off, but I've never seen her look so defeated.

One of her arms was hanging onto Liam, while the other was holding onto a bouquet of flowers. But, the one around her father kept moving up, as if she was trying to reach the necklace she always had on.

The necklace.

Besides her usual red lips, that's what she was missing. I don't think I've ever seen her without that necklace, but considering how her hand kept twitching to move to the spot on her chest where it usually lay, it didn't take a genius to realize it was important.

Her eyes widened as they met mine, but neither or our nerves subsided.

Regardless, I kept my eyes on hers, strangely feeling grounded by them.

It didn't take long for the two of them to reach the head of the altar, Liam helping his daughter up the steps. Even though their relationship was bad-tense compared to the awkward-tense relationship Alex and I had, Liam cared for Kimberly in his own way.

Granted, he was harsh, but it was the 'I want you to be better than this' harsh.

Now that she was closer, I noticed all the little signs which mirrored the ones from when we went to go visit Mom. The way her hands were trembling, the quivering of her pink lips, the rapid movements of her eyes.

Her chest was heaving at an alarming rate. "Are you okay?" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"Huh?" she responded, realizing I asked her something. That was when I knew something was seriously wrong.

Kimberly Nyla Astor didn't just say 'huh'. The woman had a smart-ass response ready for everything and everyone.

"Nevermind." My tone was sharp and abrasive, not at all reflecting the immense guilt coursing through me.

Fuck this. Fuck me.

I was in a position to say no to this. I could've prevented this.

But, the fire inside her burned with annoyance, much to my benefit and dismay. I could handle her being mad at me, but I couldn't handle her being so devastated and vulnerable.

It wasn't her. Those words were the last two that I would ever use to describe her.

I could be mean. I could be harsh and asshole-esque. As long as she fought back, never letting that inferno in her eyes die down.

"Whatever," her voice matched the annoyance in her expression. "Let's just get this over with."

So, with our hands at our sides, the officiant continued with the ceremony. With the lack of wedding parties and our generic vows, it was expected that our wedding would be short. There wasn't much to say or do but speak when we were instructed to.

The lack of bouquet in her hands allowed Kimberly to do what she was itching to do the entire time: stroke the part of her chest where the necklace once laid.

If I remember clearly, the necklace was the word 'angel' written in script, attached to a golden chain. It was the last word I'd use to describe her on a daily basis, and it was the last word I expected her to describe herself as.

But, for some reason, it had a sentimental meaning for her.

A meaning I would most likely never find out because of the 'no personal questions' clause, but it didn't stop me from being curious.

Robotically, we exchanged our wedding bands: a rose-gold band for her and a white-gold band for me.

I was so busy looking at her, I didn't realize the words 'I do' left her mouth until the officiant announced the universal statement.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Shit. Fucking shit.

I don't know how I managed to forget about this part of a fucking wedding ceremony, but somehow I did. But, I wasn't the only one who seemed to let this slip their mind. Kimberly's eyes widened, the fire almost completely extinguished.

I had to do something with everyone watching us. The press would know this entire fucking alliance was fake if the two of us didn't kiss at our fucking wedding.

I cupped her face into my hands, feeling her soft skin and sharp jaw fitting into the palms of my hand. I brought my lips to her ear. "Considering how intimately I touched you yesterday, I wasn't expecting you to be scared of a little kiss."

Her breath hitched, but not in the satisfying, seductive way it did yesterday. Instead, it was filled with fear and worry. She said something about 'no kissing' yesterday, and the last thing I wanted to do was go back on my word, distressing her further.

I couldn't kiss her. Not like this.

Twisting her face away from the crowd, I moved my thumb to her lips before placing mine on top of them.

Even though my thumb was separating our lips, I could feel the softness and warmth of her lips under my skin, begging for me to experience the real deal.

Stopping myself, I pulled back, feeling the immediate lack of her warmth as she looked up at me with shock and gratitude in her eyes.

Fuck.

I am completely and utterly fucked.

***

so, i decided to break the wedding into two chapters, so it wouldn't be too long. but, honestly, considering how long this book is probably gonna be, it doesn't even matter lmao.

also, poor kimmy. why do i do this to her?

y'all aren't ready for the emotional rollercoaster that's brewing in these next few chapters. even i hate me.

love, zia. (lmao, the irony...)