Trading for Love

4. Next Step

Charlotte POV

This was aweful. This had to be the most horrendous form of torture imaginable. Whoever had invented it deserved to be subjected to it.

" Charlotte stop fidgeting or she'll stick you again," Lillian snapped from the small couch seated beside the raised platform surrounded by mirrors. A seamstress was bent over by my right side, pins pinched between her teeth as she worked to take the dress in.

Lillian had magically come across a wedding dress shop that carried dresses in my size. She picked one off the rack she deamed acceptable, and the poor seamstress had spent the last half hour pinching and pinning the fabric to form to my body. I took a deep breath, doing my best to hold still as I watched all the happy brides around me.

The shop had dresses lining every wall, each more unique than the last. The two other brides in the shop were smiling and giggling as they twirled in one beautiful gown after the next. The small audience seated around them both oo'ed and ah'ed over each prostective dress. They looked so happy.

I turned back to my own reflection, grimacing as I took in my semi haggard look. Lillian had insisted I put on make up this morning but it did little to help the mess I was.

The only good thing I could see was I had slimmed down slightly since I had spent so much time working on the farm. I was by no means skinny but much more toned. Other than that... My skin had turned a sickly gray color that managed to show through the layer of foundation I had on my face. My eyes were red rimmed and blood shot from all the time I spent crying rather than sleeping. Dark circles had formed under my eyes, making them look sunk in my head. My waist length hair had been thrown into a messy bun that was in no way fitting to the current style of messy buns. I looked like absolute crap, but then again it fit how I was feeling on the inside.

We were one day away from the wedding that Lillian had pulled together. It was set to happen in the backyard, only immediate friends and family invited, and that was merely to have witnesses to the event. The part that was torturing me the most, was my soon to be husband. When Lillian had told me that night, I had to excuse myself to the bathroom so I could be sick. My worst nightmares were coming true and it was to late to back down.

Anthony. I was set to marry Anthony. He was the eldest son of Jillian and Jackson Perelli who were bailing out my father. They had created their own fortune through a series of banking investments that they had turned into owning banks of their own. This had given Anthony all the leverage he needed to make good on his promise from all those years ago.

In the two days since, I had cried more than I had ever cried in my life. Lillian chattered away about the wedding and how I would live a comfortable life with Anthony but I knew that was a lie. Anthony was the devil hidden behind a mask. He would torture my soul and break my will as soon as he got the chance. He would make life unbearable and the lightly veiled threats of the past sent my stomach churning at the slightest thought of him 'taking what was his'. I was brought back to present by the seamstresses voice.

" How does that look?" she asked sticking one last pin in above my hip. I looked in the mirror, forcing myself to look at the dress that felt more like a prison uniform than a wedding dress. It was plain white silk with capped sleeves. It flowed in one long line down to my thighs before splitting above my right knee. The seamstress had pinned the fabric around my hips and waist, cinching it in to define the slight hourglass figure I had gained from working with Ty. It defined my breasts and butt in a way that made them look bigger than they were. In any other situation, I would have loved the dress but today, it felt like nothing more than dressing a pig for slaughter.

" It looks fine," Lillian quipped, pulling her phone from her purse and firing off a message. I turned from them both, moving for the dressing room. I wanted out of this dress and away from any reminder of the terrible events to come.

****

The rest of the day flew by in a blur. Decorators and caterers buzzed about the house, preparing every inch of it for tomorrow. I attempted to ignore them all, choosing to sit on the couch with Andre and watch reruns of 'Jeopardy'. He was still hooked up to the IV pole but had assured me he would be free of it for the wedding tomorrow.

He was so pleased that I had agreed to marry Anthony, telling me all the 'good' qualities he possessed that would make him a good husband. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was walking into a sham of a marriage that would destory my happiness to save him. So I pretended to listen, nodding from time to time for good measure.

When night finally came, I was exhausted from the emotional toll of the day, collapsing into my childhood bed. Sleep didn't come though. My fears and anger raged through me. Fear for the future as 'Mrs. Perelli', anger at my parents for getting us into this situation, anger at myself for agreeing to this sham marriage, fear for my father and his future if I didn't go through with this. It all just lead to more tears. I cried so much I thought for sure I would become dehydrated and my eyes would dry out but that wasn't the case.

When the sun rose the following morning I hauled myself out of bed, trudging through the quiet house in my pajama pants and t-shirt to the kitchen where I threw on a pot of coffee. My nerves were wound tight but coffee was going to be the only saving grace I had today. I was going to be lucky to make it through the wedding with my eyes open at this rate.

****

" Suck in," Lillian grunted as she pulled the laces on the shapewear she was cinching me into. It didn't matter that my dress had literally been tailored to fit me exactly. She was bound and determined I was to look skinnier than I was. I sucked in again as she gave the laces a final yank before quickly tying them off. The shapewear was pinching me and making it next to impossible to take a full breath but she seemed satisfied enough to leave me be for a moment. Lillian grabbed the dress bag from the closet door, quickly pulling out the newly hemmed dress. I don't how they had done it but the seamstresses at the bridal shop managed to hem and tuck my dress over night, not that I would have minded if it had taken longer. Lillian slipped it over my head, zipping the back, and giving me a quick once over before disappearing from the room.

I took a moment to glance in the mirror, cringing at the sight. Lillian had done my hair and makeup and it showed. My long auburn hair had been curled and pinned up, creating a mountain on top of my head that had jeweled hair pins poking out here and there. Some how she had managed to balance a god aweful tiara in it all. My makeup was to dark and entirely to red. I think she had been going for a smokey eye but had only succeeded in making me look like I had been punched. My cheeks had entirely to much rouge on them giving me a fevered look and she had painted my lips a cherry red, none of which fit my complection. Thanks to Lillian and the to tight shapewear she had forced me into the dress that was suppose to be tailored to fit me perfectly now hung loose around my waist and hips. I let out a dry chuckle as I turned away from myself. I was better off ignoring the trainwreck looking back at me.

I wandered over to the window, looking down at the driveway were a few of our relatives were showing up. Everyone talked and chattered happily as they passed through the house to the backyard. As I watched another car pulled up, a canary yellow Porsche of some kind. It parked in front of the door, right next to the steps, the door popping open as soon as the car reached a stop, Anthony stepping out.

He was wearing a tux, with a navy blue tie. His hair had been slicked back and reflected the sun when he turned. What stuck out the most was the look on his face as he turned, tilting his head up to look directly at my window. He had a sinster grin on his face, a look of sinful glee in his eyes. It sent a shiver down my spine, a wave of nausea flowing through me. His look spoke volumes to what he was expecting from this marriage and I knew that he was going to get it, whether I agreed to it or not.