SIGNED TO THE DEVIL

​LIORA'S POV

​On the day of my wedding, I found the man I loved fucking my sister in a hotel bathroom.

​"Ahhh... harder, Oscar!"

​A breathless moan cut through the rushing water, followed by the wet slap of skin against tile.

​My entire body went rigid.

​"I'm coming..."

​That voice.

​Dora?

​Thick steam rolled into the hallway, heavy with his cologne and her floral perfume.

​I rushed toward the door, my fingers gripping my bouquet so fiercely that a thorn punctured my skin. Blood slid down my fingers, staining the white petals red.

​There they were.

​Oscar had my sister pinned against the wet tiles, his hand fisted in her hair. Dora's fingers dug into the same compass tattoo on his shoulder that I used to trace with my own fingertips.

​The bouquet hit the floor with a soft thud.

Neither of them looked up.

​"Don’t worry, baby," Oscar groaned against her neck, slamming her back against the wall.

"Once Liora marries Sterling, we won't have to hide anymore."

​This can't be true.

​I shook my head in denial. He had forgotten her... He swore he loved me and was over his childhood crush.

​"Tell me I’m better than her," Dora groaned.

​Oscar laughed. "You're the fucking best. Liora’s probably twirling around somewhere in her wedding dress like the pathetic idiot she is."

​Every promise he had whispered, every kiss, and every dream we had built together crumbled before my eyes.

I stared at them, waiting for someone to laugh and tell me it was a sick joke.

​No one did.

​That's when it hit me... It wasn't a joke or an April Fool's prank.

​Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled backward to escape, but my legs froze when I caught my reflection in the couple's photo sitting on the nightstand—Oscar kissing my temple, everything in the picture looking so perfect.

​I grabbed the heavy frame, rushed back to the bathroom door, and slammed it against the wall.

​Glass exploded across the tiled floor.

​Dora scrambled backward as Oscar jerked out of her. "Liora—what..." He yanked a towel around his waist. "What the fuck?!"

​I looked at him through my blurred lashes. "Our relationship just shattered like that frame."

​"Liora—"

​I faced my sister, forcing a smile. "Sis... thanks for taking out my trash."

​"What?!" she screamed.

​I gathered the heavy skirts of my wedding gown and walked out.

​Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

​I sped out of the parking lot, leaving Oscar chasing after me into the hotel lobby.

​Buzz. My phone rang.

​"Dad..." My voice broke.

​"Liora, darling, where are you...?"

​"I'm..."

​"Just come back home. We're waiting for you, dear."

​I nodded, tears rolling down my cheeks as I pulled into the driveway.

Three black SUVs sat on the gravel. My father’s warm, relieved laughter drifted through the open windows—a sound I hadn’t heard in years.

​I stepped through the front door.

​"Dad," I called, ignoring the man sitting near the fireplace.

​Damien Sterling.

​The man I swore to make disappear if he ever came near the Hale family. The son of the monster who murdered my mother.

​He leaned against the mantel, the orange flames casting a sharp, golden light across his chiseled jawline, looking as if he owned the world.

​"What is he doing here?"

​My father smiled, looking from me to him. "Mr. Sterling, your wife is back."

​"Wife?"

​Damien swirled his glass before lifting his dark gaze to mine.

​"Mmh," he murmured. "I knew she would be."

​"What the hell is going on here...?"

​His brown eyes moved from my face down to my ruined wedding dress, finally halting at my hands.

​"Liora, dear..." My father grinned. "Remember I told you that our 30-million-dollar debt was paid...?"

​How could I forget the day I was told a crushing weight had been lifted off my shoulders?

​"He's the one... who paid it?"

​My head snapped back to my dad. "What?"

​"And..."

​"And what?!"

​Thud.

​Damien tossed a file onto the table in front of me.

​My gaze dropped to the bold headline printed across the cover:

​LIORA HALE WILL MARRY DAMIEN STERLING.

​"Liora, dear, you will marry Damien..."

​I chuckled. "You must be joking..."

​Damien set his glass on the table.

​"Go get ready," Damien commanded. "We're leaving now."