Page 30 of Stolen Bride

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Page 30 of Stolen Bride

My heart pounds as it aches while I try to process what just happened, although I’m not going to get a chance because Gracie follows me into the room as I toss the suitcase onto the bed. “Oh, Stella, you shouldn’t listen to my brother.”

I tug the zipper free and flip it open, sending several bras flying out of the luggage. I reach over and scoop them up before turning around to frown at my new sister. “Why? Gracie, aren’t you the one who said your brother is a man of his word? Besides, he’s right. I don’t love him, and he doesn’t love me.” This time she frowns, and my heart hurts just a bit more than it did a moment ago, which I didn’t think was possible.

Needing to break the tension, I ask, “What did you bring me? I know you have fabulous tastes, so please tell me you brought me something to make me feel at least semi-human right now.” Her face immediately lights up, and that’s the Gracie I met a few months ago.

“Of course I have.” She whips out a gorgeous dinner dress that’s white with pale blue dots, and it’s perfect. “I also snatched up your things from the venue so I could get your sizes. More stuff will come soon, but luckily I was pretty accurate in my guess.”

“Okay. I’m going to shower.” I rush into the bathroom just as the door opens, thankfully avoiding whoever that is because I don’t want to deal with anyone else before I can freshen up.

When I come out about ten minutes later, towels wrapped around me, I see the woman who I caught a glimpse of in thehallway, and she’s sitting at the foot of the bed. “You must be the lovely Stella, my new daughter-in-law.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I put away your clothes and set your outfit on the credenza in the closet. You can change in there. We’ll wait right here.”

“Okay. Thank you.” I step into the walk-in and close the door to his massive dressing room. I’m stunned at the magnificence of this place. As much as I hate to say it, I could enjoy being Damiano’s paid-for wife, even if it’s temporary.

Once I’ve slipped on the attire, I step out with the towels to hang in the bathroom. “I’ll take these,” Grace says.

“Come, sit with me,” Mrs. Valentino says, taking my hands.

“This is a beautiful ring. Damiano went through a lot of trouble to pick out such a pretty ring for you.”

“Yes, well. Appearances and all.”

“Appearances? Do you think he attends functions?”

“No, but it’s not like he can look bad giving me the garbage my last fiancé did after he just called him out on it.”

His mother’s brows flit upward, and her bright hazel eyes widen with curiosity with my slip. “Last fiancé?”

“Yes. Gracie didn’t tell you?” I question, panic shooting through my body.

“I didn’t know what Dame wanted me to say.” Gracie shrugs like it’s not an issue. I suppose it isn’t for her to say since it’s not her life that’s affected by this mess. “Well, I’m going to see what’s up with dinner. I’m getting hungry. Today’s adventures built up my appetite.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what your father and I walked in on, young lady.”

“What? I’ve really got to go.” She flees from the room like lightning.

I raise my brow, wondering what happened there.

“So this fiancé?”

“My stepfather sold me to someone else, and that piece of crap happened to owe your son money, so an even trade-off, I suppose.” I wave my hands over my body.

She shakes her head and stands. “I’m going to slap my son. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that you’re in this situation.” She pulls me in for a hug and then excuses herself from the room. While she’s gone, I finish getting prepared for dinner.

There’s a knock at the door. “Come in.”

“Are you sure?” he questions, pushing open the bedroom door cautiously, ducking his head.

“It’s your room, Damiano,” I answer while staring at him through the large mirror as I finish my hair.

“I didn’t want you to toss some shit at my head,” he confesses, closing the door behind him. The sheepish expression filled with guilt and contrition actually makes me feel sorry for him when it’s my feelings that were hurt.

I shrug it off, trying to play the pain off since I don’t have a right to be hurt. “Why? Like I told your sister—you didn’t lie.” His face hardens, but I can’t read it. “I hope this is acceptable.”

“Acceptable? You look fabulous. Fuck, it’s going to be hard to eat my dinner when all I want is dessert.” He licks his lips, and my treacherous body reacts. “Ready, Mrs. Valentino?”




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