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38

Cara

I stand in my closet, stomach a churning mess, looking at all the dresses hanging on the racks. I move through them, one at a time.

None of them are me. They're all expensive, designer, the sort of thing that would cost more money than I've ever had in my life. They're all my size and fit like a dream, but none of them are mine.

I close my eyes and try not to think about that big thug Hector pulling me from the alley. I try not to think about Christopher staring at me from the car with that smile on his face.

Like he was going to own me again and couldn't wait to drag me through hell.

"Wear white."

I start and turn around. Eros's standing in the doorway, looking at me. He's in a black suit with a dark tie, his hair combed back, looking more put-together than he has in a while.

"I thought we were keeping it casual?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly. Nerves jangle down into my fingertips. I'm more nervous than I realized.

"You're the bride. Wear white." He walks to me and brushes a
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