THE WRONG BRIDE

The Golden Monsters

Julian’s heavy footsteps echoed as he stepped back, his eyes finally breaking away from mine. He gave me one last, unreadable look before turning on his heel and walking out the side door into the hallway.

My knees felt completely weak. I had to grip the edge of a nearby table to keep myself from falling over. My heart was hammering so loudly against my ribs that I was sure the entire hotel could hear it.

"Oh my god," Arthur whispered. He stuck his head out from behind a giant silk curtain, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Clara, you are playing with fire. The Ice King actually looked human for a split second!"

"We don't have time for this, Arthur," I said, trying desperately to force my voice to sound normal and professional. But my hands were still shaking. "Help me clean up this cake before Vivienne comes back and destroys the rest of the room."

But luck was not on our side today.

Before we could even pick up a single broken sugar flower, the main doors banged open. Vivienne Montgomery marched back into the room. Her face was twisted into an ugly scowl, and she was gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles were white. Her long acrylic nails clicked sharply against the screen.

"Clara!" she yelled, completely ignoring the giant mess on the carpet. "Forget the cake. The cake doesn't matter anymore. I have a new instruction for you, and it needs to happen right now."

I quickly wiped my hands on a towel and walked over to her, putting on my best planner smile. "What is it, Miss Montgomery?"

"I just spoke to my mother’s personal astrologer," Vivienne said, waving her hands dramatically in the air. "She said that for our marriage to bring eternal wealth and good luck, we must have live white swans swimming in the outdoor fountain during the cocktail hour tomorrow."

I blinked. I honestly thought I was hallucinating from a severe lack of sleep. "Swans? Like... live birds?"

"Yes! Twenty of them!" Vivienne snapped, glaring at me. "And they cannot just be white. That is too boring for the paparazzi. I want them dyed in organic, gold glitter. They need to look like golden swans."

Arthur made a small choking sound behind me. I quickly stepped on his foot to keep him quiet.

"Miss Montgomery," I began carefully, using my softest, most polite voice. "Swans are very aggressive creatures. They are highly territorial. If we put twenty of them in a small fountain, they will attack the guests. They will hiss at your family's corporate investors. It will be a public relations disaster."

"I don't care about the bird biology, Clara!" Vivienne screamed, stepping directly into my personal space. The heavy, choking scent of her expensive perfume made my eyes water. "I want my gold swans! If I don't get them, I will make sure your agency never works in New York City again. Do your job!"

"She said no, Vivienne."

The deep, cold voice sliced through the room like a knife.

Julian had returned. He stood by the doorway with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His gray eyes were like chips of ice, and his jaw was set tight. He looked incredibly dangerous when he was angry.

Vivienne spun around, her angry face instantly shifting into a fake, sweet smile. "Julian, honey! You are back. I am just trying to fix the wedding energy. This girl is refusing to help me."

Julian walked into the room, his long legs moving with total confidence. He didn't even look at Vivienne. His eyes went straight to me, scanning me to make sure I was okay. A strange wave of warmth rushed through my chest at his protective stance.

"Clara is the expert," Julian said, his voice flat and hard. "If she says the birds are dangerous, then there will be no birds. I will not have our guests attacked because of a stupid superstition."

"It is not stupid!" Vivienne stomped her high heel against the marble floor. "It is for our future! For our families' merger!"

"This merger is about business, Vivienne, not fairy tales," Julian said coldly. He stepped forward, his tall body completely blocking Vivienne from me. He was like a giant shield. "Stop yelling at the staff. It makes you look cheap."

Vivienne gasped, her face turning red with humiliation. She looked at Julian, then she glared past his shoulder to stare at me. She could feel that Julian was defending me, and she hated it.

"Fine!" Vivienne hissed. She grabbed her designer purse and stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy doors behind her. Her assistants ran after her like scared puppies. Arthur quickly grabbed his clipboard and slipped out the back door, leaving us alone once more.

The grand room went completely quiet.

I looked up at Julian, my heart racing. "Mr. Vance... you shouldn't have done that. She is your fiancée. You are going to cause a huge fight between your families."

Julian didn't answer right away. He stepped closer to me, closing the distance until I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. He didn't touch me this time. He kept his hands in his pockets, but his intense gray eyes locked onto mine. The silence between us was heavy, thick with things we couldn't say out loud.

"I don't care about the fight, Clara," he murmured, his voice low and rough. He looked down at me, his eyes tracking the movement of my breath. For a second, just a single second, his gaze dropped to my lips before snapping back to my eyes.

He was fighting himself. I could see the tight muscle feathering in his jaw. He wanted to reach out, but he forced himself to stay back.

"You should go to the car," I whispered, my voice trembling. "She is waiting for you."

Julian let out a short, heavy breath. He took one step back, putting professional distance between us again. The cold, emotionless mask slid back over his handsome face.

"Don't worry about the swans, Clara," he said softly, his voice returning to its normal, calm tone. "Just focus on the rehearsal tonight."

He turned and walked toward the door. But just before he stepped out, he paused, looking back over his shoulder. "And Clara? Don't let her bully you. You are more important to this wedding than she is."

He disappeared into the hallway, leaving me standing alone in the quiet ballroom. My body was trembling, and my heart was racing. He hadn't confessed his love. He hadn't touched me. But the way he looked at me told me everything. This was going to be a very long, very dangerous week.