Neptune

Chapter 14 | The Groom

No, don't come closer.

I gulp as Luke steps closer to me with full strides, making me automatically retreat. I can't believe that he's here, in the bride's dressing room.

And I hate myself that even though I should have no time to think about this, Luke looks fine as hell in his navy groom suit.

Right. I suddenly want to rip my brain out of my head.

When Luke halts right in front of me, he hisses, "I want everybody else out of this room this instant." When there's no response due to the shock everyone else has, Luke clenches his jaw. "Now!" he hollers.

And that makes Paul, Peter and Oscar abruptly rush out of the room before closing the door. That might be useful to prevent the organizers or any other people from eavesdropping on our conversation, which I must say, will most likely be a fight.

I stare at my angry supposed-to-be future husband and step back again, only to knock the dresser behind me. Luke glares at me like he wants to end me for forgetting our deal.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks.

I swallow hard, starting to regret the stupid thought that has crossed my mind that I could run away from him.

But then, his temper makes anger build up inside me too. It might be easy for him to do this fake marriage thing—he has no idea how the thought of taking the sacred vow just for the sake of lying in front of the whole world has messed with my mind.

Not everyone is heartless like him.

So I raise my chin, shooting him the same glare.

"It's not my fault," I say. "You pushed me into this marriage. You didn't mean to help me. If you did, you would have helped me without shoving me into this ridiculous game. You took advantage of my trapped state. How can I make such a vow to someone like you?"

"Cassie, we had a fucking deal." His voice is menacing, deadly.

I scoff in disbelief.

"Right. You're a fucking businessman. I get it. And I'm sick of it." My voice is shaking due to the emotion eating me inside—I'm trying my best not to shed a tear. "I'm tired of everybody always talking about business around me. I'm tired of people using me."

Even my own family, Morgan, is using me for money, for her ambition. She has admitted that she used Dad too, that she never loved him. And I'm about to enter a marriage in which both people are using each other, not because they care about and love each other.

"Cassie." Luke's voice is shaking, but unlike me, who's shaking from holding my tears, he's shaking from holding his anger. "You're talking about people ruining your life. Do you think that getting out of this marriage now would do any good for yourself?"

I'm stunned. Now that he said it like that, my mind is filled with many thoughts. Say, I walk away from this marriage, what will happen to me?

The embarrassing news will reach the media, and in no time, the whole world will know about that. I'll be the nation's joke once again. They may think that I'm indeed a bitch who doesn't want to settle down, an ungrateful woman who ditches her future husband who loves her and has stayed by her side during the lowest point of her life—I mean, I've made him sound like an angel to the rest of the world.

I know that many girls would kill to be in my position, to marry Luke.

And Luke won't be there to cover up all those dirty headlines anymore after what I'll have done to him.

Worse, some men who've always wanted to get to me will come back to bother me again, which will be the perfect fuel for the paparazzi.

Worst of all is that Morgan will think that I'm nothing without her, because apparently, my life didn't get any better after she left me.

In short, it would be a mess. It would be shitty.

I cover my mouth with my hand, pacing around again. My heart thumps so wildly that I feel like it's about to explode out of my chest. Oh, God, am I having a panic attack?

"No, no," I deny, still pacing around in the room, feeling so lost.

"Cassie, look at me," Luke says.

"What should I do?" I rasp. "Oh, God, what am I gonna do?"

"Cassie," he warns.

"I can't walk down the aisle." I find it hard to breathe, my chest heaving up and down.

"Cassandra!" he snaps, making me halt in an instant.

Slowly, I turn toward him, only to find him boiling. I realize now that he tends to call me by my full first name every time he loses his temper—this is the second time that he's done that.

He approaches me, his piercing hazel eyes boring into mine.

"Listen to me." His voice softens but is filled with implacable authority. "You will walk down the aisle and meet me at the altar. There's no other way. It's the only way out."

The truth behind his words hits me to the core. He's stating a fact, whether I like it or not.

My lips tremble. "But, I don't think that I can walk in this state," I stutter. I've never been this nervous before, not even when I performed in one of the biggest concerts in history. "What if people still think of me as the nation's whore? Maybe—" I choke, thinking about all those VIP guests, celebrities, and most importantly, countless reporters waiting outside. Admitting this to Luke makes me feel so fragile. "Maybe they came here to watch a joke."

Luke shoots me a deep and intense stare. He grits his teeth.

"You are going to be my wife, that makes you nowhere near a joke," he states.

Sometimes, I envy him for being so self-centered and confident, like he doesn't give a damn about what people think.

"Besides, the guests will be too busy watching how fucking gorgeous you are that they won't have a goddamn chance to whisper something bad about you." There's humor in his tone, but his expression stays hardened so I don't know whether he's joking or not.

I wipe the tears that almost escape from my eyes. Shit. Now that he said it, why do I suddenly worry about the probability of my watery eyes ruining the mascara?

"That fucking gorgeous?" I scoff.

"Enough to make me want to fuck you in the altar in front of every single soul there," he says. "Do you prefer that instead?"

My eyes widen in disbelief, while a playful smirk touches the corner of his lips. This man...

I almost growl in frustration. How can this man be so calm and indifferent on a day like this?

"And surely, you don't want your ex-boyfriend to watch our wedding crumble just like that," he suddenly states, making me frown. "It might give him the impression that you're still not happy and probably haven't moved on, after all." Noticing the confused look on my face, he adds, "Oh yeah, he's here."

My jaw drops. "What the hell are you talking about? I didn't invite him."

"I did," he says nonchalantly.

And I don't know how to react anymore, because I feel like straddling him on the ground and choking him to death—I can't even count how many times I've wanted to do that since I met him.

"You did not," I snap, pushing his chest, shaking my head in disbelief. "Why did you invite him?" I shout.

No way. Jude is the last person I want to see on my wedding day. Is Luke crazy? Oh yeah, he is. It's been crystal clear countless times.

"You'll see," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief.