PROLOGUE | Teaser
It was supposed to be the best day of her life, the most memorable one. However, as Claire Berkeley walked down the aisle with her stand-offish father by her side and the twin daughters of her older brother bumbling and giggling ahead of them, she experienced the strongest urge to throw up she had ever had in her life.
One might think she was joking or having a nervous bout, but she was not. In the makeup room, her mother told her it was alright to be scared, to feel like every inch of her skin was crawling with insects and slimy snails. Little did her mother know that it wasn’t the stress of a bride before the wedding that she was undergoing; it was much more than that—more than she could put into words in such a short amount of time.
With her pale fingers tightly curled around the bouquet of orchids and lilies, and her heart thundering inside her chest like a bolt of lightning in the dark sky, Claire was seething from the inside. Her thoughts were a place too hazardous for her own sanity. No matter how much she tried to push them down—push them back—they only grew louder, clearer, and more obvious.
To her right, a famous musical band—the name of which she had already forgotten—played “Can’t Help Falling in Love” so passionately that every second woman in the chapel appeared to be bawling. Well, fake tears, obviously. After all, pictures were being snapped. Who wouldn’t want to put on a spectacular show at dear Claire Berkeley’s wedding? The woman who single-handedly saved Berkeley’s business empire from bankruptcy.
Not that they knew anything about that.
Once the business recovered the losses and paid all its debts, her father, with no shame at all, bestowed all the credit on her brother and her would-be husband. There was no need to mention how angry it made her. For three damn days, she couldn’t put her shit together.
Once they made it to the altar, her father gave a firm nod to Lucas (the groom) and left to take a seat on the frontmost pew next to her beloved stepmother. He didn’t even have the decency to say something kind to her. She was his only daughter, for Christ’s sake! Not even a smile. Ugh.
Anyway.
“Breathe, Claire, breathe,” she mumbled mentally and prepared herself to face the biggest asshole in the entire hall.
Lucas Devonshire looked incredible as usual. Claire would give him that. The asshole did know how to wear a nice suit and make it look as if it was made just for him. He even had a decent physique to match the rest of his lovely demeanor up there. Probably approximately 6 feet tall. Not that it was of any relevance.
Yet it was the only way she could think of to distract herself and not do something her blood was pumping with. She could also focus on the captivating grin he was shooting her way (he was easy on the eyes after all), but since the second she woke up this morning, every single thought in her head somehow ended up with his head shoved deep into his ass.
On any other day, the image would have been amusing. But right now, at this moment, as she stood in front of what she could only call a travesty, ready to say her I dos, she felt anything but amused.
She felt outraged. Heartbroken. And like a joke, everyone was waiting to laugh at.
Oh. But she couldn’t let them have the last laugh now, could she?
“Lucas and Claire, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?” the priest asked after the whole blah blah blah she was too fidgety to care about.
Lucas was the first one to speak. “I have.”
Claire smiled, meeting Lucas’ eyes with so much pretended sweetness that she hoped he would have a heart attack, or at least, diabetes, for that matter. “Of course. I have.”
The priest continued. “Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?”
Now, that was going too far. Love and honor. What a farce! Claire could not help but roll her eyes. And instantly regretted it when Lucas frowned and raised an eyebrow.
Yet, that did nothing to deter him as he gave a nod to the priest. “I am.”
Claire couldn’t let a word out.
Hoping the bride failed to hear him, the priest reiterated his question. “Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?”
Claire sighed and groaned, looking at the ceiling.
The commotion rippled across the audience.
Claire could already feel the heat of her father’s glares, silently rebuking her to mind her manners and act like the lady of the respected Berkeley family.
“Claire,” Lucas said, appearing concerned. “Are you feeling well? You’re acting… odd.”
“I’m fine!” Claire muttered, shifting from foot to foot (heel to heel in her case) as if she couldn’t wait to pee. But really, she was just too anxious for her own good. She wanted to be done with this once and for all.
Lucas noticed her lack of decorum and only showed more worry. “What are you doing? Did you…did you hurt yourself?”
She couldn’t take it anymore.
“I said I’m fine, asshole!”
While Claire’s eyes gazed at the exit with a longing she had never felt, she noticed from the corner of her eye that Lucas raised another eyebrow and pulled his head back.
“Excuse me?” He sounded surprised, not quite offended yet. The commotion in the church only grew louder.
“I said,” Claire repeated calmly. “I’m fine. Ass—”
“I heard you the first time,” Lucas snapped. Finally. “I think everyone did.”
Did they? Claire wondered. Then again, it didn’t really matter.
Ignoring Lucas and all the angry eyes drilling into her face and head, Claire turned to face the priest. “Can I say something? Please?”
The priest could only watch her with a stunned expression as Claire removed her damn high heels, one by one, and motioned to one of the band members in the corner to hand her the mic.
Claire pondered what to do with the heels in her hands as one of the singers sprinted over to her and offered her what she had requested.
With a shrug, she flung one over her shoulder, drawing a scream from one of the bridesmaids, and hurled the other at her brother, who stood from his seat, feeling the need to intervene. The heel, however, did not reach him, landing only a few feet ahead of his seat. But to Claire’s surprise, one of her nieces broke into a cute chortle.
“Not yet, Marvin. You’ll get your time to shine, I promise,” she told her brother before grabbing the mic and facing the audience.
“I know what you all are thinking,” she spoke over the mic. A shrill sound followed right after, making every other person in the room wince.
No one said a word to her, although the commotion remained solid. The power of backbenchers, she supposed.
The glares coming from her right had intensified tenfold, and if it weren’t for the air conditioning her father had forced the church to install overnight, she might as well be crying rivers of sweat.
“Is she crazy? Has Claire lost it? What the hell has gotten into her? Why is she dragging her family’s name through the mud? Oh. Look. A spoiled brat. Nothing but a drama queen. Crazy in the head. This girl has no shame. No shame at all. She should die. Oh, she should leap off a cliff and die in a horrific, horrible way. Why, oh why is she screaming? Our ears will bleed. Someone, please put a stop to this. This ridiculousness. What is the point of it all? Are we here for free food or a free show? I guess a little amusement wouldn’t hurt, would it? Blah blah blah... ughhhhhhh!”
“Claire!” exclaimed her father. “Enough!” he screamed. “Put an end to this insanity right now!”
But Claire had no intention of stopping. Or quitting. Not now. Not ever.
“No!” she put her feet down and gulped hard against the biting heat coursing down her spine. It was difficult for her to disagree with her father. But after years of playing the role of an obedient daughter, she was tired of being told what to do and what not to do. She was tired of this never-ending circus.
“Claire!” Her father barked and was almost on his feet when Lucas grabbed the mic from Claire’s grasp and gestured for her father to calm down.
“Dad, please. I’m sure…I’m sure there’s a reason for all this.” He turned to face Claire. “Am I right, Claire?”
Claire merely rolled her eyes. She also tried to lunge for the mic, but jeez, those extra inches he had on her, she couldn’t fucking reach it when he raised it above his head.
“What’s the matter with you, Claire?” He asked quietly, although Claire could easily see the fury growing under his cool demeanor. “Talk to me if you wish. But don’t do anything you’ll regret for the rest of your life.”
Claire didn’t want to be a bitch, but he had no right to talk about what she would regret or not. “Don’t sell me the regret crap, Lucas. I’m not gonna buy it!” she snapped instead.
“What?” He sounded confused and irritated, his brows furrowed into his forehead. “What has gotten into you?” He glanced around to see who was looking at them. Only to return with an even redder and hotter face. “Do you even want this wedding to happen? Why bother even showing up?”
“Because I had to do it on my own!”
“Do what, Claire? Humiliate us? Make a clown of our families?” He jerked her arm. Furious.
“No!” She clenched her teeth, yanking her arm free and landing a hard slap across his cheek. “This!”
“CLAIRE!” Her father screamed from her right, his enraged footsteps approaching. She even caught a glimpse of her brother dashing in her direction from the corner of her eye.
But before they could get hold of her, she lifted her dress and made a run for the exit.
Several men and women tried to intercept her way, seemingly at the signal of her father. But Claire was determined to break free.
It was now or never.
She dived beneath the arms, squeezed past the chubby aunts, and kicked her way past a dozen uncles and cousins shooting up to hold up the door.
Claire dashed out, an angry mass on her toes. Gasping. Yelling. Throwing hands in the air.
A car was waiting for her outside the gates.
A woman in her seventies behind the wheel.
“Grandma!” Claire whistled with a huge grin, dashing down the steps and towards the car. Her pristine white gown flitted behind her, her veil falling on the road.
Claire yanked the door of the car open and tugged herself in.
“Hop in, darling,” Grandma smirked, turning on the ignition. “Let’s get you the hell out of here!”
Once the car roared back to life, and they drove away with her father and Lucas appearing enraged in the rear-view mirror, Claire pushed out a sigh of relief and shoved back those wild ginger curls out of her face.
Feeling better than she ever did.
But for how long... she hadn’t got a single clue.
