Before The Wedding

Celeste's POV

The air in the room felt thick, heavy with the heat of a struggle that had already knocked the breath from my lungs. A rough knuckle dragged down the curve of my cheek before Lorenzo’s large hand slid lower, wrapping around my throat and pinning me in place. "You belong to me, Celeste," he murmured.

I glared up at him, refusing to cower beneath his grip. "I would never give myself to the bastard who abducted me on my wedding day and threatened to slaughter my family." Fighting against his brute strength was completely useless, yet I knew I would rather die right here than stop trying.

***

"It's still wild to think you're going to be a married woman in seventy-two hours," my twin brother Gabriel remarked, lounging nearby. "If Mom saw you right now, she'd be pulling her hair out by the roots." I rolled my eyes, tuning his commentary out completely.

Then Mom's voice carried into the room. "Damon just phoned. He's on his way over to sit down with your father and uncle."

I bolted upright from my seat. "How soon?"

"Ten minutes."

"Mom!" A sharp gasp escaped me. "How on earth am I supposed to make myself presentable in ten minutes?"

"You look great," Gabriel mocked, running a hand through his intentionally tousled blond hair. A guy like him could get away with looking effortlessly disheveled, whereas I definitely could not.

I shot him a withering glare. "Shut your mouth." Darting out of the room, I nearly collided with Dad in the hallway. He took a quick step back, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

"I have to go get dressed!"

I didn't waste a second explaining myself; Mom could fill him in. I sprinted up the staircase, bounding up two steps at a time. Catching sight of my reflection in the bathroom mirror made me wince. My cheeks were flushed bright red, my curls were an untamed mess, and my plain T-shirt and jeans were nowhere near respectable for a visit. Just wonderful.

After splashing water on my face, I plugged in my flat iron. My natural hair was a mass of curls, which I always smoothed out whenever guests came over. Today, I had roughly five minutes to get it done. Once it was straight, I bolted into my bedroom and tore through my closet. Choosing an outfit normally took me a solid hour, leaving me about sixty seconds if I wanted any makeup on my face. My fingers closed around a pink dress I had bought online and never actually worn. The hemline was way shorter than what I usually felt comfortable wearing around men in our circles. Still, Damon was going to be my husband in three days, and he deserved to see a little more of me.

Shoving down the sudden flutter of nerves in my stomach, I stepped into a pair of heels and hurried back to the bathroom. There wasn't time for a full routine, though my complexion was clear enough that a quick sweep of blush and mascara did the trick before I headed back toward the stairs.

Hearing the low rumble of Damon, Gabriel, and Dad talking in the foyer below made me slow my pace. The last thing I wanted was to look like I had scrambled to impress a man, even if he was my fiancé.

The three of them were shaking hands as I descended the final steps. Damon glanced up, his gaze dropping immediately to my bare legs before snapping back up to meet my eyes. Both Dad and Gabriel followed his line of sight to my hemline, and neither of them looked pleased. My father was a warm, affectionate man at home, yet he was also the Underboss of Minneapolis, a reality that became unmistakable as his expression turned to stone.

"There is something I need to hand over to you in my office, Damon," Dad said, his tone clipped and firm.

The shift in atmosphere didn't rattle Damon in the slightest. Composed and serious, he carried an air of maturity that made me feel years younger by comparison. He offered me a brief smile before following my father down the hall.

The moment I reached the bottom step, Gabriel stepped directly into my path. "Go upstairs and change."

"Excuse me?"

He jabbed a finger toward the hem of my dress. "You have way too much leg out."

I gestured toward my sleeves and collarbone. "My arms and neck are completely covered." Lifting one foot slightly, I tilted my chin up. "Besides, my legs look good."

Nathan stared down at my leg before bringing a scowl back to my face. "Damon doesn't need to be finding that out right now."

I cast a quick glance down the corridor to make sure my fiancé was out of earshot. "He's going to see a whole lot more than my legs on our wedding night."

My overprotective twin crowded closer, blocking me in. "Upstairs and change, Celeste. Right now," Gabriel commanded, his voice dropping to an icy register.

It was laughable that he thought pulling his Made Man authority would work on me when it never had in our entire lives. Reaching out, I dug my fingers into his midsection and twisted hard—no small feat considering his stomach was solid muscle.

He flinched back with a grunt, giving me just enough room to duck around him. I deliberately put an extra sway into my hips as I strolled into the living room, though Nathan was on my heels in seconds. "Your temper is fucking impossible."

I flashed him a sweet smile. "It's the exact same temper you have."

"I'm a man. A woman is supposed to be soft-spoken, calm, and demure."

I rolled my eyes again as Gabriel folded his arms across his chest, propping his shoulder against the wall. "Here's the reality, Celeste. You play the part of the flawless little princess around outsiders, and Damon is in for a rude awakening when he figures out he tied himself to a spitfire instead of a proper lady."

The retort died on my tongue as his remark hit a raw nerve. Was there truth to what he said? To everyone beyond these walls, I was the Ice Princess—poised, untouchable, and entirely in control. At home, however, I was headstrong and fiery.

What would happen when Damon saw the real girl beneath the polished surface? Would he still want me once the mask came off?

A light knock against the doorframe broke the silence, and I turned to find Damon walking into the room.

A faint smile touched his lips as he looked at me, though it stiffened the instant his gaze shifted to Gabriel lounging against the wall behind my back. Turning my head, I caught my brother staring Damon down like he was ready to tear him apart. It was beyond ridiculous.

"Gabriel," I said, keeping my voice as civil as possible. "Would you mind giving Damon and me a few minutes?"

Gabriel finally broke his stare, his lips curving into a mockingly polite smile. "I'm letting you have your few minutes right now."

"By ourselves," I pressed, hardening my tone.

His grin turned dark as he gave a slow shake of his head. "Someone has to stay and guard your virtue."

Embarrassment burned across my cheeks; if we weren't in front of company, I would have bruised his ribs again.

Closing the distance between us, Damon lifted my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles while keeping his stare locked directly on my brother. "Her virtue is in good hands. I can wait until the wedding night to claim what belongs to me... once she is no longer under your watch."

Gabriel shoved off the wall, his fingers dropping straight toward the blade at his hip. Panic surged through me as I lunged between them, slamming my palm against my brother's chest. "Gabriel," I snapped, digging my fingernails through the fabric of his shirt. "Damon is the man I'm marrying. Leave us alone."

Knowing the moment was thoroughly ruined anyway, I shot Damon a quick, apologetic glance before spinning on my heel and walking out. I marched through the hallway looking for Dad, my blood boiling with every step. Gabriel was going to pay for that little stunt. Giving up on finding my father, I stomped upstairs to my brother's bedroom and planted myself on the edge of his mattress, seething as the minutes ticked by.

When heavy footsteps finally sounded in the hall and Gabriel pushed the door open, I pounced. "Just how badly did you humiliate me when I wasn't in the room?"

"I had a chat with him about your wedding night."

My entire body went rigid. "Tell me you're lying."

"I'm not."

"What exactly came out of your mouth?"

"I made it clear he needs to treat you like a lady. None of that rough stuff."

I swung my fist out, smacking his shoulder as hard as I could.

"What the hell?"

"You actually brought that up to him? What is wrong with you? What happens in my bedroom is none of your damn business!" My voice shook with pure rage.

Gabriel shifted his weight, looking distinctly uncomfortable as he glanced toward the floor. "Do you think it's easy for me? I don't want to picture you doing that... with him."

I slugged his arm a second time. "You were born three minutes before me! You've been sleeping around for years! Have you even kept count of how many women you've been with?"

He gave a shameless shrug. "It's different, I'm a guy."

"Just shut up!" I shrieked, grabbing at my hair as I lunged at him, forcing him to catch me around the waist before I could land another blow. "How am I supposed to look Damon in the eye ever again after what you did?"