Zella
“You may kiss the bride.”
My stomach turned as I heard the words. My pulse increased as Isaiah turned to me, his grey eyes burning holes into my skin. His hands were already reaching for me, and I fought the urge to turn around and bail out of the registry.
I was his wife now. God, I was married to him. A month ago, I would have been overjoyed to be in his arms. Now, all I felt was blinding hate for the man I had wanted in the past six years and anger at the way my body burned for the same man who destroyed my father’s company.
His fingers brushed my jaw gently, tilting my face up toward his. My knees shook. I couldn’t breathe. I hated him. I hated him so much I wanted to scream. All I could remember was me begging him foolishly on the night of my engagement party.
Please, jus
