Cruel Fortune (Cruel #2)(77)

“I don’t want to see you unhappy,” Lark told me.

I almost laughed. But I couldn’t even manage it. Unhappy. I’d been unhappy for years. What even was real happiness? It didn’t belong to a girl whose father had lied, cheated, and stolen everything from her. Who ended up in prison, destroying my mother, who hadn’t even been able to look at me for years. It certainly didn’t belong to a girl whose brother had abandoned them all at the first sign of trouble.

I wanted my old life back. The one before the fraud. The one when I’d had everything. When I had been on top of the world. And I hadn’t had to love or even like Camden Percy to build that future for myself.

It wasn’t as if Penn was going to suddenly change his mind. To go back to the boy I’d known who worshipped at my feet. I’d been so naive then. Thinking he’d always come when I called. And now, he wasn’t here to save me. But to feed me to the wolves.

“I’ll manage,” I finally got out.

“You’re miserable. Camden makes you miserable. He’s abusive. Katherine, please listen to me. We’ve all been saying it from the beginning. We know the kind of person that Camden is. You do, too. You shouldn’t subject yourself to his whims.”

She was right.

Camden was abusive.

Not physically. He’d never hit me. But he didn’t have to, in order to land blows.

Emotionally, he twisted me around his little finger. Mentally, he fucked with the way I thought. And, when we fucked…well, it wasn’t just fucking. There was passion, fueled by anger and dominance. His need for submission from me. Another game he played. At least the sex was good. That was about all he had going for him other than the string of Percy hotels he owned.

“Why are you so set on this?” Lark asked.

I didn’t even know how to explain it to myself. It wasn’t just about security. I had the penthouse overlooking Central Park. I still had a dwindling trust fund that I could probably stretch if I had to. It was more than that. It was an arrangement. Something Camden and I had crafted together for our mutual benefit. I was getting the better end of the deal, as he now knew exactly how little money I owned. We’d had to fork over tax and bank account information before signing prenups. It worked. We worked somehow…even when we hated each other.

“Maybe I don’t want to fail at one more thing.”

Lark sighed. “It wouldn’t be a failure. You deserve better.”

A knock sounded on the door, and the wedding planner, Virginia, burst in. “Time to go, Katherine. Are you ready?”

Lark shot big, round eyes at me, silently begging me to change my mind. But I couldn’t.

“Yes,” I told Virginia.

“Great. I have the veil. Let’s get you both in position.”

Lark and Virginia helped me down from my pedestal and picked up the long train of my dress. We marched down the hallway and into position at the back of the church. Virginia tucked my veil into my hair and then moved to cover my face.

I held my hand up. “Leave it.”

She shrugged and left my face uncovered. I wanted to face this down with clear eyes. Alone. As always.

The music started. Virginia hurried bridesmaids out on cue. Lark shot me one more look of despair before stepping into the church in her dark red dress with a bouquet of white flowers.

“Okay, let them get all the way down, and then it’s your turn.” Virginia beamed at me. “Don’t forget to breathe.”

“It’s just another runway,” I muttered as she turned back to face the entrance.

“Canon in D” filtered through the church as it moved from the strings of the quartet I had chosen. The sound bloomed and magnified. The doors opened before me. I stood, silhouetted in the atrium, as the hundreds of guests rose to their feet to face me.

For a split second, I faltered. Debated. Wondered if Lark was right. If I should turn around and run. But it was a moment, and then it was gone.

I stepped forward. Virginia straightened out my train and then the never-ending veil as I walked past row after row of guests. Their faces were a blur. I kept my eyes focused forward as the altar came into focus. The priest in his ceremonial attire. A line of bridesmaids and groomsmen. Everyone identical. Then, Camden standing in a tuxedo that had been handcrafted by a designer in London. I wasn’t close enough yet to discern his expression. That was probably for the better.

As I got closer to the front, I began to recognize more faces. My crew taking up the front rows. My mother seated so regally beside David and his little Texas bride. Camden’s father, Carlyle, seated next to Elizabeth Cunningham. They’d eloped and somehow kept it from the press. They’d have a big wedding sometime next year. Next to Carlyle was Camden’s heinous sister, Candice, and then Elizabeth’s daughter, Harmony, the whore who hated me. My new “family.”

I skipped back to my side of the aisle and nearly froze in place. Natalie. Our eyes snagged, and for a split second, we stared daggers at each other. Then, she tilted her chin up. A stand of defiance. The bitch had the audacity to show her face and at my wedding nonetheless. I’d give her points for having balls, but she clearly had not taken my statement at Trinity seriously.

I passed Natalie, my blood boiling. And then I landed on Penn. My Penn. I just wanted him to look at me. To object. To do something.

But he just made eye contact with me. Looked sad for me. Pity.