Chapter 2 The Missing Groom
Evelyn's POV
The door of the master bedroom slammed shut behind us with a heavy thud. Dorian's grip on my wrist was firm as he pulled me inside, his fingers leaving marks on my pale skin that I knew would bruise by morning. My breath caught in my throat when I saw what awaited us—Emily was already sprawled across our bed, her curvaceous figure barely contained by a sheer black negligee.
"What a lovely surprise," Emily purred, her red lips curving into a predatory smile. "I was worried your fiancée might not join us tonight."
I tried to pull away, but Dorian's grip only tightened. His other hand came up to grip my chin, forcing me to look at him. Even angry, he was devastatingly handsome - all chiseled jaw and piercing gray-green eyes. His custom suit did little to hide his athletic build, and despite my revulsion at the situation, I couldn't help but notice how his muscles flexed as he held me in place.
"You're going to be a good girl and join us," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "It's time you learned your place."
To be honest, I didn't want to join in their fun. I ended up lying stiffly on the edge of the bed, my back turned to them as Emily's giggles and sighs filled the room. The bed dipped and shifted as Dorian joined her.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn't block out the sounds—the rustle of expensive fabric being discarded, Emily's breathless moans, Dorian's deep growls of pleasure. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, heat pooled in my core at the sound of his voice. I hated how my body responded to him, even as my mind rebelled.
"I'm afraid she would keep her eyes open and watch us, Dorian," Emily whined between gasps. "It's making me uncomfortable."
The sharp crack of Dorian's palm against my cheek seemed to echo in the massive bedroom. "Keep your eyes closed," he ordered, his voice rough with arousal. "Or I'll give you something else to look at."
I could smell his cologne - something expensive and masculine that made my head spin. The bed shifted again as he moved, and I felt the heat of his body hovering over mine. My heart thundered in my chest, torn between fear and an unwanted attraction that made me despise myself.
"Such a prude," he taunted, his breath hot against my ear. "Is this what you wanted? To get me all worked up?"
I forced my voice to remain steady. "I recently examined Ms. Parker at Mercy West's VIP clinic. Given certain... symptoms she presented, you might want to reconsider your current activities."
The silence that followed was deafening. Then Dorian's weight disappeared from the bed.
"Get out." His voice was arctic. When Emily didn't move fast enough, he roared, "GET OUT!"
I heard the frantic scramble of Emily gathering her things as she hurried across the floors. The door opened and slammed shut again, leaving me alone with an furious Dorian.
I barely had time to roll over before he was on me, trapping me between his muscular arms. His tie was loosened, shirt partially unbuttoned, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his sculpted chest. The scent of his cologne was overwhelming this close.
"You devious little bitch," he growled, though there was a hint of admiration in his tone. "Did you really examine her?"
"The latex glove might have torn during the examination," I replied coolly, though my pulse was racing. "I'd hate for you to be exposed to anything... unfortunate."
His eyes narrowed as he studied my face, trying to determine if I was bluffing. Finally, he rolled away with a frustrated grunt. "Fuck."
He said coldly, "Go to sleep. Tomorrow is the wedding."
We ended up sleeping as far apart as the massive bed would allow, though I lay awake for hours, acutely aware of his presence. In the pre-dawn light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I could make out his powerful form, the sheets twisted around his waist. Even in sleep, he looked dangerous—a predator momentarily at rest.
The next morning, I sat in front of an ornate mirror in the bridal suite of Beverly Hills' most exclusive hotel, watching as the makeup artist tried to cover the faint bruise on my cheek. My wedding dress hung nearby - a custom that probably cost more than most people's cars. Everything about this day was a carefully orchestrated display of wealth and power, right down to the fresh gardenias that perfumed the air.
"Your foundation needs to be touched up again," my mother Catherine observed critically from her perch on a nearby chaise lounge. She was already perfectly coiffed in her mother-of-the-bride outfit, not a hair out of place.
"Why?" I asked suddenly, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Why are you so determined to see me marry into the Blackwood family?"
"Don't be naive, Evelyn," she scoffed. "The Blackwoods are American royalty. Do you know how many families would kill for this opportunity? We're doing this for your own good."
Before I could respond, there was a knock at the door. A hotel staff member entered carrying a large black box with a gold bow.
"Delivery for the bride, from Mr. Blackwood."
My hands trembled slightly as I opened it. Inside, nestled in black tissue paper, was a skimpy bunny costume complete with ears, tail, and fishnet stockings. My phone buzzed with an incoming call - Dorian.
"Missing something?" His voice was rich with dark amusement.
"Dorian."
"The one and only."
"What will it take to get you to show up for this wedding?"
He chuckled, the sound sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine. "Wear what I sent you under that beautiful wedding dress. I want to know you're wrapped up like a gift for me while you're saying your vows."
The call ended, and my heart sank into silence. I knew Dorian wanted to torment me into rejecting this marriage, but my parents would never allow it. To them, I was just a tool to secure a wealthy connection.
As I touched the delicate lace of the skimpy bunny costume, I couldn't help but remember how he looked last night - powerful, dangerous, and undeniably magnetic. The thought of wearing this beneath my wedding dress, knowing he'd be undressing me with his eyes throughout the ceremony, sent a thrilling, forbidden shiver down my spine.
I pushed the box away, hating how my body betrayed me with its response to him.