The next morning came too quickly, dragging me back into the nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I was still nursing the sting on my face from last night as I stepped out of the house.
Antonio’s sleek black car was parked in the driveway, polished so well it reflected the morning sun. Behind it, two matte-black SUVs sat like silent sentinels, their dark-tinted windows giving nothing away.
He leaned casually against the hood, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that screamed money and power.
He looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine—like nothing in the world could touch him.
“Morning, Isabella,” he said with that smooth voice of his, opening the back door for me. “We’re meeting the wedding planner. The wedding’s happening soon. Your father and mine want it finalized.”
I swallowed hard, keeping my face neutral as I approached. “Right. Of course.”
As I climbed into the car, my stomach twisted. Sofia was already in the passenger seat, her long legs crossed, her dress—or lack of one—barely covering anything.
She turned to me with a slow smirk, like she’d been waiting for this moment.
“Good morning, ‘future Mrs. Ricci’.”
I slid into the back seat, keeping my expression blank. “Good morning, Sofia,” I replied, my tone clipped.
“Oh, don’t be so stiff!” she turned around to face me. “We’re practically family now. Isn’t that exciting?”
Antonio climbed into the driver’s seat. He adjusted the rearview mirror and started the car without a word.
“Don’t mind me tagging along,” Sofia continued, “I just couldn’t resist. Weddings are such a beautiful thing, don’t you think?”
I folded my hands in my lap, refusing to take the bait. “They are,” I said simply, staring out the window.
Sofia let out a light laugh. “You’re so composed. I’d be a wreck if I were in your shoes. I mean, marrying a man who doesn’t even love you? That takes strength, Isabella.”
My face tightened, but he didn’t say anything.
“Don’t worry…” Sofia added, her voice dropping to a whisper as she leaned closer. “I’ll make sure Antonio’s still… happy, even after you two are married.”
I met her gaze through the rearview mirror, keeping my expression cold. “I’m sure you will. But you might want to find a better dress for the job. That one looks like it’s falling apart.”
Her smirk faltered for just a second before she leaned back in her seat, pretending to adjust her strap. Antonio’s lips twitched, like he was trying not to react, but he still said nothing.
The tension in the car was suffocating, but I refused to let either of them see how much it bothered me. Let Sofia play her games. Let Antonio sit there in silence. I had my own plans, and they didn’t include sticking around for this circus any longer than I had to.
The car sped down the road, the hum of the engine the only sound as I stared out at the city rushing by.
***
When we arrived at the wedding planner’s office, Sofia practically skipped inside, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. The planner, a chic older woman with a clipboard and an air of authority, greeted us with a professional smile.
“You must be the happy couple!” she exclaimed, extending her hand to Sofia and Antonio.
I froze, my eyes widening as Sofia’s grin stretched even further.
“Oh, yes!” Sofia said, slipping her arm through Antonio’s. “We’re so thrilled to be working with you.”
Antonio said nothing, his usual smirk firmly in place, but he didn’t bother correcting her.
The planner beamed, completely missing my stunned silence. “You two look perfect together! Such a striking couple. I can’t wait to hear your vision for the big day.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Sofia beat me to it.
“I’m thinking classic elegance,” her voice dripping with enthusiasm. “White roses, gold accents, maybe even a live orchestra.”
The planner nodded, scribbling on her clipboard. “That sounds divine! And your dress, dear? Have you found the one?”
“Oh, not yet,” Sofia replied, stealing a quick glance at me. “But I’ve got a few ideas in mind.”
My jaw clenched, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Actually,” I said, cutting in, “I’m the BRIDE!”
The planner blinked, looking between me and Sofia in confusion.
“Oh,” she said, her smile faltering for the first time. “My apologies. I… I just assumed...”
“She gets that a lot,” Sofia interrupted smoothly, “Isabella’s so shy, she doesn’t like all the attention. Isn’t that right?”
I shot her a glare, but before I could respond, Antonio stepped forward, his hand on Sofia’s back. “Let’s just get started,” he said, his voice dismissive.
The planner nodded quickly, eager to move past the awkward moment. “Of course. Right this way.”
Sofia sauntered ahead, still holding onto Antonio like they were the ones getting married. I followed behind them, my frustration bubbling under the surface.
By the time we sat down to discuss the details, it was clear Sofia had no intention of stepping aside. She chimed in on everything—flowers, food, music—making it seem like this was her wedding and I was just a guest.
“And for the first dance,” she said, twirling a lock of her hair, “something romantic but not too slow. Maybe a classic like Fly Me to the Moon.”
The planner nodded, jotting it down. “And you, Isabella? Any preferences?”
I hesitated, feeling all their eyes on me. “I’m fine with whatever,” I said quietly, not wanting to make a scene. I'm so done by the way.
The wedding planner’s pen hovered mid-air, waiting for me to finish, but I didn’t get the chance.
Bang bang bang!
Shouts erupted outside, followed by a loud noise that echoed through the building!
