Eden's Pov.
I follow the procession of maids, keeping my head low but my eyes sharp, scanning everything. They're escorting me down a seemingly endless red carpet laid out on the marble floor. My plan is simple and it's going to work. All I need to do is get outside, make a break for it, find Eliza, and force her to undo whatever witchcraft she cast on me.
The black limousine comes into sight. The driver stands stiffly by the open door, offering a tight, unnatural smile. He looks like a human trafficker in a cheap suit, but I know better.
I gather the heavy fabric of my mermaid dress in my hands, suddenly grateful I had chosen this restrictive style; at least my legs aren't completely trapped. From the corner of my eye, I scan the maid walking closest to me. She's skinny, looks nervous, and is inarguably weaker than I am.
I take a deep, sharp breath. Now or never. I shove the maid aside with all my strength and start running.
Chaos erupts behind me. Shouts and gasps fill the air, but I don't look back. I just run, speeding around the side of the mansion toward the backyard. The sound of heavy footsteps pounds behind me.
A guard is following, and he's fast, nearly catching up. I lean down without breaking stride, rip off one of my high heels, and hurl it backwards over my shoulder. I hear a solid thwack and a grunt of pain. I risk a glance back; he's stumbling, clutching his face. What a good day to be Cinderella.
I tear off the other shoe and keep running on my bare feet, the cold pavement stinging my soles. I skid to a sudden halt as my feet hit the soft, manicured grass of the backyard. My plan evaporates.
The scene before me is fully set. White and pale rose petals are scattered across the grass. Rows and rows of chairs are arranged in perfect lines, every one of them occupied by a guest. A small orchestra is playing in the corner, and I recognize the tune—Arctic Monkeys' "I Wanna Be Yours." The surrealness of it makes my head spin.
My eyes freeze when his gaze meets mine. He's standing at the altar right across from me, waiting in a crisp white suit. There's a light stubble on his well-carved, angular face. His black, curly hair is long, falling past his shoulders, and it seems to shimmer under the sun.
I expected him to be handsome, but not like this. Not this enchanting. He's staring right through me, like he can see my panicked soul, like I'm the only person in this entire crowded garden. He's quiet, not saying a single word, but I feel like I've heard 150 different languages from that one intense stare alone.
My reality snaps back into place when someone grabs me firmly from behind, pinning my arms to my sides. Then it feels like I'm in another, even more horrible nightmare as my mother approaches me, her face a thundercloud of fury.
"Eden was right," she scoffs, her voice a low, venomous whisper meant only for me. "You really are stupid enough to try to flee through the back of the house?"
"E...den?" I murmur, the name feeling like dirt in my mouth. My eyes finally tear away from Lorenzo's and desperately search through the crowd. I find her—or rather, me—sitting in the front row. She's smiling, a small, knowing smirk of utter delight as she watches my humiliation. That stupid bitch.
A fresh wave of rage gives me strength. I wriggle violently, managing to break free from the guard's hold. I don't care about the plan anymore. I run straight towards her, my wedding dress tearing at the hem. Right before I can reach the aisle, my bare foot catches on a rock hidden in the grass.
I trip, falling hard onto the ground, the impact jarring my teeth. That strange, electronic voice bangs through my head like a gong. [90% chance of tripping on your wedding dress].
I'm definitely hallucinating. I brush the thought aside, scrambling back to my feet before finding my way to her seat, my dirty bare feet leaving grimy footprints on the white satin runner.
"What the hell did you do to me, Eliza?" I scream at her. People in the crowd start gasping loudly, and I can practically smell my parents' shame from a mile away.
She doesn't say a single word. She just watches me, perfectly calm, her legs crossed elegantly.
"I'm not her..." I start shouting, turning to address the stunned guests. "I'm Eden! She's lying! She's Eliza! I'm not going to marry him, I can't! I'm not meant to marry him!" I scream, my voice cracking. The sheer, terrifying realization that no one believes me hits me in the most painful way, and hot, frustrated tears prick at my eyes.
"Eliza, what is wrong with you?" my mother snaps, striding over to me and grabbing my arm roughly.
"Mommy, you have to believe me, I—" A sharp, blinding pain suddenly pierces through my skull. It's so intense it whites out my vision for a second. I stumble backwards, losing my balance, and land against a rock-hard chest. An equally strong arm secures my waist, holding me upright.
"Just stay calm," he says. His voice is a low hum, the silkiest tone I've ever heard, and it vibrates right through me. The pain doesn't stop; it intensifies, pulsing behind my eyes, and I wince, clutching my head.
[60 seconds to marry Lorenzo Sterling to get cure for migraine] the voice announces, clinical and urgent.
Are you kidding me?
[It's all I've got. Be quick. Some of us have jobs to do.]
"I can't do vows.." I'm breathing in quick, panicked pants, speaking aloud to the stupid voice in my head. I've finally accepted that I'm crazy. But it's like Lorenzo hears me. He looks at someone in the crowd and gives a sharp order.
"Get the marriage certificate. Now." His command sends people scurrying. He leads my stumbling, pain-wracked form to a random chair at the edge of the altar.
The certificate arrives almost instantly. He doesn't hesitate; he presses his thumb into an inkpad and then onto the paper, sealing the deal. In my dazed, agonized haze, I just go through with it, pressing my own thumb down without any further hesitation. It's just a piece of paper. I just need the pain to stop.
"Congratulations!" someone yells from the crowd. A wave of hesitant, then cheering applause breaks out. The searing pain in my head stills for a single, merciful moment before everything goes completely black. My legs give way and I trip, my body going limp.
He catches me before I hit the ground, his arms easily taking my weight.
[Oh, don't be so dramatic] the voice says, its tone dripping with digital sarcasm.