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I glare at the ornate mirror in front of me, sending my seething hatred out into the smooth glass

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I glare at the ornate mirror in front of me, sending my seething hatred out into the smooth glass. A pretty young woman with a lovely oval face, warm hazel eyes, full lips and lightly tanned skin glares back at me. Her dark hair is piled on top of her head, tiny strands of pearls weaving in and out of the intricately twisted locks of hair. Most people would remark how beautiful she looks today, with her soft lips and shimmery eye shadow.

All I can think of is how pissed I look.

It's my wedding day. I should be happy. But elation is the last thing I'm feeling. Dread, anger and horror better describe my state of mind. My mother has royally fucked up this time, and now I'm having to pay for her mistakes. Fantastic.

My mother has had dreams of becoming part of royalty since she was a girl. Four years ago, she made the colossal mistake of making a deal with the Devil himself, in order to gain that prestigious place in society. My mother got her wish, marrying into the English Royal family after my father 'coincidentally' died in a car wreck.

Unfortunately, as is often the case with my mother, she forgot to hold up her end of the bargain. Once she got her ticket to the crown, she had to make her payment by promising her soul to be a servant to Lucifer himself for the next three centuries. My mother found a way to weasel out of the bargain, so I was put in her place. Though, instead of being Lucifer's servant, he's decided to take me as his bride.

Servant or bride...I honestly can't say which fate is worse.

I continue to glare at my reflection, ruefully taking in every facet of my appearance as my mother bridesmaids finish the last details. They flit around the room, nervous about the wedding that's just minutes away. I don't know why they're so freaked. I'm the one getting married to Hell's ruler, not them.

Still, I've grown tired of arguing over this whole charade. The demons that came to claim me promised that mom wasn't completely free of her deal. Once this wedding is over with, she'll have to pay up anyway. That brings a small smile to my face, and I spend a moment looking over my reflection, reveling in the thought of sweet payback.

As demanded for such a formal occasion, my mother has decked me out in the finest wedding dress she could find. Unfortunately, since I'm marrying Lucifer, it can't be too formal, so she made a few adjustments to the dress to make it more appealing to his palate.

I end up wearing a sleeveless white satin fit-and-flare gown. It hugs every curve I possess, making me feel more like a runway model than a bride. The dress reaches the floor, even with my heels, and has a long train trailing behind me that's trimmed with lace along the edge. A thick ribbon sash is tied around my waist, cinching my figure in and showing off my curves even more. A high chocker-style lace collar wraps around my throat, with three buttons at the back of my neck that hold my dress in place.

Honestly, that's all that can be called 'demure' about my dress. The rest of it is fantastically audacious. My dress is backless, with miles of skin showing from my shoulders to the small of my back. The lace collar and trim along the bottom is jet black, as is the ribbon tied around my waist. There's also a generous oval cutout in the front, stretching down from the base of my throat down to the bottom of my sternum. It shows much more of my cleavage than is really necessary.

It's a beautiful dress, but incredibly sinister as well. God, I hate my mother right now.

"Stand up straight, Amelia." My mother makes sure my intricate hairstyle is secure. "At least smile a little. It's your wedding day!"

I deepen my scowl just to piss her off. Normally I'm lively, happy and loving around everyone I know. It's who I naturally am. Not today, though. I think I deserve to be a little disappointed and begrudging today. After all, this is my mother's fault, not mine. I can be pissed if I want to.

"Come on, Amelia. This is important!" She checks to make sure that my dress is secure.

Yes. God forbid I have a wardrobe malfunction on my wedding day. It is Lucifer, after all. Wouldn't want to shock him.

"I'll stick with my frown, thanks." My tone is sharper than she's prepared for.

"Amelia." She comes around to face me, hands on her hips and her mouth set in a thin line. She's dressed in her black satin evening dress and wears a row of pearls around her neck.

How my mother and I are related, I'll never know. I stand at least three inches taller than her, even without my heels, and my body is far slimmer. My hair is a dark chocolate brown than curls down past my shoulders. Hers is a dirty blond that's pin straight and stops are her collarbone. My lips are fuller, my face leaner, and my skin two shades paler. Her eyes are a bright emerald green; mine are my father's soft hazel-gold. The only physical attributes we share is her straight nose and slender jaw. Other than that, we're as different and a mother-daughter combination can be.

Not that my mother's unattractive, but she's far from the knockout she believes herself to be. The only reason Richard married her was because Lucifer charmed him into it as part of her deal. My step-brother Daniel has told me many times that his father would have chosen me way before my mother. Not that I'd marry Richard, anyway. He's a nice guy, but way too old to be my type. Besides, he's blonde.

"We need this to happen," she snaps at me. "This is all part of the deal we made. We have our power and our wealth. Now we have to pay it back."

I glare at her. My mother's never been good at admitting guilt and taking responsibility. Today is no exception.

"No," I bark. "This is all part of your deal that you decided to skip out on. You have your wealth and money, and I'm paying it back for you."

She rolls her eyes at her, her trademark defensive mechanism. If she can make me feel guilty, then she doesn't have to shoulder as much of the blame. I love my mother, I do, but she's incredibly self-serving. She's also got an ego the size of China.

"Stop this." Her eyes narrow, matching mine. "This has to happen. Would you rather have him come after all of us?"

Well, you're screwed anyway, so what do I care?

She does have a point, though. My stepfather and my two stepbrothers had nothing to do with this deal other than being pawns in it. They haven't made any deals or tried to win any bets against Lucifer. They've just put up with my mother and I for the last four years, handling my occasional outbursts of rage and her hyper-neediness. They've been good to us, and they don't deserve to be dragged any further into this than they already are.

I sigh and cross my arms over my chest, glaring at my reflection once more.

Fine then. For Daniel, Richard and Marcus. But only for them.

This is where I start to despise this soft heart of mine. It's impossible for me to knowingly harm someone unless I know I'll save them later. I've inherited my father's kindness and selflessness as well, and it's gotten me into, and out of, a few sticky situations.

Today, my tender heart has sentenced me to an eternity of marriage to Lucifer.

Today, my tender heart has sentenced me to an eternity of marriage to Lucifer

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