HIS FAKE BRIDE

CHAPTER TWO

The world spun back into focus slowly, painfully. Erin found herself staring up at Kevin's face, this bastard, she thought. Her stomach turned at the memory of all she had just witnessed as they came flooding back.

"Don't you dare touch me," she choked, but he was already helping her sit up. The room still held the musky scent of fresh s*x, and her wedding dress, it lay crumpled in the corner like a discarded tissue.

The surge of rage came suddenly, violently and her palm connected with his cheek before she even realized she'd moved. The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the apartment, drowning out Ashley's gasp from somewhere behind them.

Erin stumbled to her feet, nearly tripping over the shattered remains of the surprise cake she'd spent hours baking. "Erin, please, let me explain—" Kevin reached for her, but she was already moving, she had to get away from here, for these scums. She hated them but she hated Kevin even more. That slimy bastard, Ashley meant nothing to her anymore, she couldn’t believe she had such a person as her best friend. She should have seen it from the way she applied her makeup whenever Kevin came to visit or how she laughed excessively at Kevin’s jokes even when they were not funny, or how she had tried to get her to break up with Kevin because something in her guts didn’t trust him. That slimy b***h!

She fled the apartment, her vision blurring as she jabbed the elevator button repeatedly. In the parking lot, her trembling fingers found her phone. Jenny's number appeared on the screen, but she hesitated. No, not another friend, not now. She couldn't trust anyone.

The Rusty Nail's bar neon sign beckoned her as she looked at it, the drunken men that filled there usually made her skin crawl but not tonight. She was going to go in there and have fun and get drunk, that was exactly what she needed.

"Tequila," she told the bartender, her voice steadier than she felt. "Keep them coming."

The tequila burned less with each shot. Erin stared at the empty glass in front of her. The bartender had stopped asking if she wanted refills – he just poured them now, as if he understood she needed them more now than any advice.

As the alcohol dulled the pain of Kevin's betrayal, another pain surfaced from her memory. Her father's voice, broken and tired, echoed in her mind: "We've lost everything, sweetheart. The company... it's gone."

She could still see him sitting in his study, the place that had once been the command center of a thriving business empire. Now the room felt like a void space, filled with the ghosts of their former life. The papers scattered across his desk had spelled out their fate, they had gone bankrupt.

"Another," she mumbled, pushing her glass forward. The world had taken on a pleasant haziness, softening the harsh realities that had been piling up. Her wedding in ruins, her family's legacy crumbling – it all seemed to float away on waves of tequila.

That's when she saw him.

Erin found herself straightening on her barstool. His ocean-blue eyes swept the room with casual authority, as if he owned not just the space but the very air within it.

Everything about him radiated power – from his perfectly tailored black suit to the confident strides. But it was more than just wealth or status. It screamed mysterious.

Their eyes met across the bar. For a moment, Erin forgot about Kevin, forgot about her father's company, forgot about everything except those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. His eyes devoured her.

He slid onto the barstool beside her. "You look like someone who's had their heart shattered today," he said, his voice deep and smooth like aged whiskey. “I’m Lucian.”

Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through her. Or maybe it was simply that she had nothing left to lose. She hadn’t heard a word he had said but she felt safe to pour out all that had happened – Kevin's and Ashley's betrayal, her father's crumbling empire.

Lucian listened, his expression unchanging except for a slight tightening around his eyes. When she finished, he pulled out a silver pen and a document from his suit jacket.

"I have a proposition for you," he said, sliding the papers across the bar. "One year of marriage. In return, I'll help you destroy those who've wronged you and save your father's company."

Erin stared at the contract, her vision slightly blurry. "Why would you do this for me blue eyes?" She spurred drunkenly.

"Let's just say you look like you would be the perfect wife." He smiled, a smile that never reached his eyes. "Do we have a deal?"

“Okay!” She giggles as she picks up the pen signed on it, barely registering anything on the contract. She would laugh in Kevin’s face and tell him she married someone else, the most handsome man that looked like he walked out of a magazine cover, the thought made her giggle more. Lucian stood, buttoning his jacket. "I'll be in touch," he said, a small smile playing on his lips before disappearing into the crowd.

Alone again, the music seemed louder now, the bass thrumming through her body like a second heartbeat. She didn't want to think. Didn't want to remember. She just wanted to feel something – anything – other than this hollow ache in her chest.

She found herself on the dance floor, pressing against a stranger with dark hair with broad shoulders. His hands were too rough, his cologne too sharp, but she didn't care.

"That's enough." Lucian's voice cut through the music. He stood behind her. Where had he come from?

The stranger tightened his grip on her waist. "Mind your own business, man. The lady's with me."

Lucian’s fist connected with the stranger's jaw almost immediately sending the man sprawled on the floor, his nose bleeding.

He picked her up and placed her over his shoulder like a piece of clothing to his apartment.

Just as he was about to cover her with a blanket on his couch, her eyes flutter open. “I want you to have s*x with me. Make me feel better and forget about him.” She says almost pleading before grabbing him by the collar. Their tongue danced in each others mouth, their kiss deepening as his hands traced her thigh sliding up.

“Yes Kevin!” She moaned.