Claimed by the echo legacy

Say I do

Reine's pov:

I stand in front of the dressing mirror, staring at my frame. I am dressed to the tee. My makeup is impeccable, the white dress made of silk worth thousands clings to my upper body like second skin and then flows downward into a beautiful princess twirl.

If it were any other bride, they would have been ecstatic. Me though, I just want this stupid day to be over already.

After the whole spectacle yesterday, I know I have no choice. Mila was a wreck and still is. Today is my supposed wedding day and she's nowhere to be found.

I glance over to the little neck chain I never remove, my hand ghosting over it. I never met my mama and I know nothing about her. All I have of her is the necklace.

I wonder, if she were alive, would I have to go through this marriage? It is wishful thinking. Of course I would. This is the life of a girl in the mafia world.

A knock at the door is my only warning before my father and three of his guards walk into the small changing room. I turn around to face him, locking everything away the moment my father and I come face to face.

"Reine." He checks me over.

"I know this isn't what you want for your life. If it was left to you, you would be all out there disgracing my name."

I scoff.

"I ask of nothing from you, child. I need you to know you are out of my hands now." His eyes glance towards my neck. "Are you ready?"

"Is that even a question?" I reply.

His eyes lower and fear skirts down my spine.

"Step back, be quiet and obey. No man needs your disrespect, girl," he snaps, his voice taking a shrill tone.

"Where's Mila?" I ask instead.

"She's safe," he says. "Worry about yourself."

"What will happen to her? This marriage was for her benefit."

He sighs.

"I'll do what I have to with my child. Worry about yourself."

"She chose to get pregnant. She has opted for a mediocre life. There's nothing I can do about that."

He waves his hand, dismissing the topic.

"You can't cut her off," I continue. "She wouldn't survive," I say, my voice getting louder.

"She has you, does she not?" He counters,"Watch yourself, Reine. Do not ruin my good mood."

"The family you're getting into has so much power in their hands. Keep your head down. Do not act like a whore."

I feel my lips threaten to tip up at that. It is a shitty thing to think, but at that moment all that goes through my head is at least I didn't get knocked up like his favorite.

I keep my face neutral, guilt churning in me at my thought process.

"Come home for Christmas this year," he says, stepping back.

Now I actually chuckle.

"I'm an Echo now, Father. I owe you nothing."

I sense it before I feel it, his hand striking my face.

I move forward before I think better of it and immediately three guns point straight at my face.

"Watch yourself, you ingrate," his voice thunders.

My face throbbing, I step back, my hands raised as he turns his back and starts walking out.

His men lower their guns and I move, picking the paper knife on the table. I bring it down one of the guard's arm hard. I step back quickly, avoiding the blood.

Father turns his gaze, falling on the guard. The other men pale, their guns whipping straight back up.

"Happy now?" Father chuckles, his gaze softening as he stares at me.

"Consider this your wedding gift."

He finally walks out, saying, "I'll get the artist to clean up your face."

I am alone again. I suck in a breath, the corset on the dress suffocating me as the need to stab something increases. I am losing my goddamn mind.

I need a release and I need it fast.

God help Damien Echo.

Hours later, I stand in front of the huge church doors, my father at my side as we wait for the music to start.

Willing myself to breathe. I will finally be free, I try to tell myself.

From a prison to another one. But a whole new experience, right?

When the door finally opens, I gasp in spite of myself. The Catholic Church with its high ceilings and gold etched molding is breathtaking.

The crowd of spectators is not more than a handful. I was expecting the media but none can be seen from where I stand.

I will myself to relax. Let's get this over with.

My gaze moves over as I stare down the aisle to the man at the altar. He has two men at his sides, I realize they are his brothers, Damon and Elijah.

And with horror I remember there would be nobody at my side. My siblings are here, seated somewhere, but the only person I could lean on decided not to be in attendance today.

My stomach clenches as I move forward, trying not to slip. The hand linked to my father's itching, I will myself not to throw it off.

When we get close enough, my father hands my hand to Damien, who takes it.

I feel a shiver when his hands hold mine. How can a living person be this cold, I wonder.

He helps me up the aisle and I stand in front of him, staring into his eyes.

So you want to get married to me, I think, a little smile gracing my lips.

He raises an eyebrow.

And as the priest recites the vows, I stare at his expressionless, handsome face and wonder what it would take to put an expression there.

It is fine, I tell myself. We have our whole lives together. I shudder at the excitement easing through my veins.

I am going to ensure I have so much fun.

"Do you Damien Echo take Reine Dawn to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to hold, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," he says.

"And do you-" the priest turns to me and I stare at my husband-to-be, pausing for a minute, watching as his eyes darken just a little.

I see the men at his back glance at each other and as it threatens to get very awkward...

"I do," I reply, smiling so wide.

His jaw clenches as he stares at me, and I revel in my small victory.

"And with the power vested in me by God and men, I pronounce you man and wife."

"You may kiss the bride."

I feel myself stiffen. Of course, the kiss. How could I forget that?

But before I can even think about if he would do it, he leans in quickly. My breath catches.

And I feel his lips ghost through mine, not really touching me. I smell his cologne and heat flushes through my body, a sensation taking over me.

But as soon as it starts, it is over because he pulls back immediately.

All of a sudden, there is a gasp in the air and we turn to the priest. His mouth opens but no words come out.

Everything slows to a snail's pace as a red spot forms in the middle of his chest. His eyes bug out before he drops to the ground.

Dead.