THE WRONG VOW

THE FAMILY DINNER

The Laurent family dining room had twenty chairs.

Elise had counted them twice.

She was sitting in chair number one, to the right of Adrian. She was wearing a black dress that Sophie, the housekeeper, had bought for her that morning. It was simple, elegant, and cost more than her rent for a year. Her hair was pulled back. She wore no makeup except for red lipstick that Adrian's stylist had chosen.

"You look like a Laurent," Sophie had whispered when she saw her.

Now, twenty pairs of eyes were looking at her.

And at the end of the table, Antoine Laurent looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Elise?" he choked out. His face was pale. Next to him, Chloe — her ex-best friend, wearing the same white dress she had worn to Elise's failed wedding — grabbed his arm.

"What is SHE doing here, Uncle Adrian?" Antoine stood up so fast his chair fell.

Adrian did not even look at him. He calmly cut his steak.

"Language, Antoine. That is your aunt you are speaking to.

"The room went silent. A fork dropped somewhere.

Madame Laurent, the 80-year-old matriarch of the family, with white hair and diamonds the size of grapes, slowly put down her wine glass.

"Adrian, what is the meaning of this?" Her voice was ice.

Adrian finally looked up. He placed his hand on Elise's thigh under the table. His hand was large, warm, and possessive. Elise flinched but did not move it away. She had to play her part.

"Last night, Elise Moreau became Elise Laurent. We were married at the mairie at midnight. Here is the certificate.

"He threw a paper onto the table. It slid across the polished wood.

Antoine grabbed it. His hands were shaking. He read it. And read it again.

"This... this is not possible. This is a joke. Elise, tell them this is a joke! You were going to marry ME yesterday!

"Elise looked at him. For two years she had loved this man. She had cooked for him, waited for him, forgave him when he came home late. And yesterday, she had found him kissing Chloe in the church's back room, thirty minutes before their vows.

"Yesterday, you left me at the altar, Antoine," she said. Her voice was quiet, but the whole room heard it. "Today, I am married. To a real man.

"Chloe stood up.” You are insane! You married him for money! You gold-digger!"

Adrian's eyes darkened. He stood up slowly. When Adrian Laurent stood up, everyone stopped talking.

"No one," he said, looking directly at Chloe, "calls my wife a gold-digger in my house. Guards.

"Two large men in black suits appeared at the door.

"Remove Mademoiselle Dubois from this property. She is no longer welcome in any Laurent building, gallery, or event. Blacklist her."

Chloe's mouth opened. "You can't— I am— Antoine!"

Antoine did nothing. He was staring at Elise like he had never seen her before. In that black dress, with that red lipstick, sitting next to his powerful uncle, she looked nothing like the sweet, naive art student he had controlled for two years. She looked like a queen.

"Elise, please," he whispered. "We can talk. It was a mistake. Chloe means nothing—""It meant everything when you chose her on our wedding day," Elise said. She stood up too. Her legs were shaking, but she stood.

Adrian put his arm around her waist. He pulled her close. So close she could feel his chest against her back.

"Antoine," Adrian said, his voice deadly calm. "You had a diamond and you traded it for a cheap stone. Now that diamond is mine. And I do not share what is mine."

He looked at the rest of the family.

"Dinner is over. My wife is tired."

He lifted Elise off the ground — literally lifted her in his arms, bridal style — in front of the entire family.

Elise gasped. "Adrian! Put me down!"

"No," he said, looking down at her, his grey eyes burning. "You are my wife. I will carry you to our room."

As he carried her up the stairs, Elise could hear Madame Laurent laughing. A loud, approving laugh.

"Finally! A real Laurent woman! That boy Antoine needed to be taught a lesson!"

Antoine ran after them. "Uncle! Elise! You cannot do this!"

The guards blocked him.

Adrian kicked open the bedroom door — his bedroom. The master bedroom. It was huge, dark, with a view of the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the night.

He placed her on the bed.

Elise was breathing hard. "You didn't have to do that. Carry me like that."

"I did," he said, loosening his tie. "Because I wanted everyone to see who you belong to now."

He leaned over her, his hands on either side of her head. He was so close she could see the stubble on his jaw."

The contract says separate rooms, Adrian."

"The contract says you do not sleep with other men. It does not say I cannot sleep next to my wife."

"Adrian—"

"Shh." He pressed a finger to her lips. "Tonight, you sleep here. Because if you sleep in the guest room, Antoine will think our marriage is fake. And our marriage, Elise, is very, very real."

He lay down next to her, fully clothed, and pulled her into his chest.

Elise wanted to protest. She wanted to run. But she was so tired. So tired of crying, of being humiliated, of being strong.

For the first time in two days, she felt safe. Even if it was in the arms of a dangerous billionaire who wanted to use her.

She fell asleep to the sound of his heart beating under her cheek.

And Adrian Laurent stayed awake all night, looking at the girl in his arms, knowing he would burn all of Paris down before he let anyone take her from him again.

Downstairs, Antoine punched a wall until his knuckles bled.

Chloe watched him and realized, for the first time, that he was still in love with Elise.

And that Elise was now untouchable.