Our Finest Moment ✔️

14

LIANA

Dorian's car is...luxurious. And it feels both amazing and strange to be sitting in it without restraints, just listening to the music, and my friend's voice as he sings with it—because we are friends, there's no denying that fact.

"I can't believe you actually said yes," he says, disbelief laced through his voice as he stops at a red light.

"Like I had a choice," I mutter, looking out towards the city.

"You did." He chuckles lowly. "Just not a very good one."

I cross my arms, and say, "Go back to singing, I liked that better."

"I would, but I don't know the lyrics to this one." He chuckles again, and I send him a glare.

I appreciate his friendship and optimism a lot, but he can be a huge pain in the ass as well. Especially on my big day—so to speak. I'm moving into my new fiancé's house with all my many belongings and burdens, and the last thing I need is reminders that the man I'm marrying wouldn't even wince as my life ended in front of him, if I'd said no.

But I didn't. I'm crazy. I'm a lunatic. Because I said yes, and I'm regretting it. I even asked Dorian to just kill me when he came to pick me up earlier—to which he just laughed, and said, "I like my own life too much to do that."

Which is fair enough, I guess.

The song switches, and Dorian starts singing again. His voice isn't too bad, and he hits the notes, so I'm not complaining. It gives me space to think while we move through the city, even if my thoughts are a complete mess.

I start to wonder whether Colton will kill me if I suddenly change my mind, or if he'll force me to be his fake wife. I did agree to his deal, and I am getting an awful lot of good things from it—if he's painted an accurate picture of our future lives.

Living is probably better than being dead, and I'll be free, as long as I do what he says. It sounds really bad when I put it that way, but I swear Colton made it seem much better. Maybe that was the point; to sell it to me with kind words, so I'd agree, and he'd get all the people he wanted from my father's...loyal subjects? I don't even know, and I'm not sure I care.

Especially not as we exit the heart of the city, and start towards a part of the city with more breathing room between the houses, more trees and greenery, and gates for the houses. Dorian stops the car in the middle of the road—because the road is blocked—and shows a badge in his window, and then I see the gate opening in front of us.

Exactly how well off is my husband-to-be?

Silently, I lean forward to see all the big houses and their front yards. I guess I can't exactly go far away from here without permission anyway, so having me in his house is practically the same as the cell in the basement. Just...bigger. I guess.

Then again, he said I'd be free, so long as I appeared to be a devoted wife when he asked me to. I could do that, right? It wouldn't be that hard. If I was to be a loving wife, he had to be an adoring husband. So we both have acting to do.

Him more than me, because I actually have kindness in my body to start with.

"Is this it?" I ask as Dorian turns and stops in front of a big, black gate.

"This is it," he says as he unlocks his phone and enters a code. "Your new home." He grins at me as the gate moves to the side, uncovering a large house—or maybe mansion—just as black as the gate, sleek stone walls, with red rose bushes in the front yard, and pillars the same color as the house holding the second floor up, above the front door.