Please Divorce Me, Alpha! {BL}

Chapter 22: Fake It ’Til You Make It

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I played along, of course, every time he touched my shoulder, I smiled. Every time he leaned in close, I laughed softly. Every time someone congratulated us, I thanked them...

Inside, I was counting down to the moment I could retreat to my room and kick off the shoes that were slowly torturing my fucking feet.

Richard spent most of the evening introducing me to people.

"This is my son, Alex," he beamed.

I nearly choked on my champagne. My son, interesting.

Apparently, money had cured illegitimacy.

"This is my clever son," he added to an elderly couple.

I stared at him, and he smiled back.

We both smiled, pretending we hadn’t spent most of my childhood barely acknowledging each other and him literally kicking my ass.

Blair stood next to me as my maid of honor all day.

That had been my idea, I specifically requested her after she reminded me to make her my maid of honor.

Naturally she refused and cussed me out, but when my father found out he forced her to do what I wanted. Because he oh so desperately wanted to get on my good side.

She had no choice but to accept.

After all, didn’t she say I should make her one for my marriage to a dangerous psycho?

I was just doing what she asked!

Well, I’m committed to petty revenge.

She looked beautiful and also like she wanted to shove me into the wedding cake.

"You look happy," she said through her smile.

"I am."

"You’re lying."

"I learned from the best."

Her smile tightened. "You think you’re funny, making me do this."

"I know I’m funny. You’re the one who’s miserable."

She glanced at Lorenzo. "You won’t be laughing forever."

I followed her gaze, Lorenzo was conversing with one of his men, his profile lit by the warm chandelier light. He looked completely composed.

"Probably not," I admitted.

Blair turned back toward me. For a moment, I thought she might say something cruel.

Instead, she smiled. "You really think the world he lives in won’t get you killed?"

My smile faded, she leaned closer. "Men like him don’t just let people like you live happily."

Then she stepped away before I could respond. I watched her vanish into the crowd.

For once, I didn’t have a snappy comeback. Because that thought had crossed my mind too.

Yeesh, some maid of honor she was.

Should have made her the lady in charge of keeping the rowdy kids in line... knowing fully well that she hated children.

Later, I escaped onto a balcony. The night air felt cold against my face, and for the first time all day, nobody was touching me, smiling at me, or asking me to pose for photographs.

I closed my eyes. "Ah, finally. That was a nightmare!"

"You’re enjoying your wedding."

I opened my eyes. Lorenzo was standing by the balcony doors, of course he was. "Were you following me?"

"No."

"You have a talent for showing up wherever I’m trying to lay low."

"I do own the estate."

"That seems unfair."

He stepped next to me, resting one hand on the railing, for several seconds, we were silent.

Then I sighed. "I’d rather be home reading. I’d be anywhere else but here actually."

"I’d rather be working."

I glanced at him. "That might be the least romantic thing anyone has ever said to their husband on their wedding day."

"You aren’t exactly acting like a romantic husband yourself."

He almost smiled. I stared out over the gardens. "Do you ever get tired of pretending?"

"Yes." The answer came out so quickly that I turned to face him as his expression had shifted. The public warmth was gone.

Man, it’s like he had an ’on’ and ’off’ button for it.

"So do I," I confessed.

For a brief moment, we just stood there, two strangers. Two unwilling participants. Two people trapped in a beautiful lie.

Then footsteps approached, and Lorenzo’s expression instantly shifted. His arm slipped around my waist.

I looked up at him, e smiled. "There you are, tesoro mio."

I stared at him. "You know, you’re kinda terrifying when you do that switch thing."

"Shhh."

A guest appeared around the corner, and we both smiled at once. The performance went on.

By the time we got to the Castelli estate, I was tired enough to consider sleeping in the car.

The house was enormous, calling it a house felt like an insult. It looked like the kind of place where kings would visit to complain about the guest rooms being too small.

A staff member led me upstairs. My very own bedroom was spacious, elegant, and completely separate and far away (thank fuck) from Lorenzo’s.

I stared at it. "You actually kept your promise."

Lorenzo stood in the doorway. "I did say I am a man of my word, Alex."

That sentence made something inside me relax, at least I could count on one predictable thing in my life.

Just then, a maid appeared. She smiled politely. "Will you need anything this evening, sir?"

I froze and Lorenzo looked at her. "No."

She hesitated, her eyes darting between us, suddenly, I understood.

Oh.

Oh no.

The wedding night.

The expected consummation!

My face heated up instantly. The maid gave us an expectant smile before departing.

I turned to Lorenzo. He looked at me. I looked at him. Neither of us spoke.

"So," I said after a long pause.

"So."

"They expect..."

"I know."

I swallowed, feeling uneasy. "W...we didn’t, um... agree to that."

"No."

"Good."

"Good."

Silence stretched between us. I rubbed the back of my neck. "Do you think they need convincing?"

Lorenzo’s expression remained deadpan. "Probably."

I stared at him. "This is ridiculous."

"Very."

"What are we supposed to do?"

"Make enough noise to satisfy them."

Um...what?!

I blinked, he said it in the same calm tone someone might use to discuss a business deal. "You’re disturbingly comfortable talking about this."

"I’m discussing logistics."

"Of course you are."

He glanced toward the door. "Five minutes."

"Five minutes?"

"That should be enough."

I stared at him. "Are you timing this?"

His mouth twitched. "Perhaps."

I covered my face with my hands. "This is the worst marriage in history."

"I’ve had worse meetings."

"That doesn’t help."

In the end, we put on a completely unconvincing act that involved muffled voices, one particularly ridiculous thump against the wall, and Lorenzo calmly saying my name in a tone that made me want to pretend I didn’t exist.

I was forced to let out a very embarrassing, "Oh, yes! Lorenzo, my love~! Harder...harder!!! Faster!"

Then silence. The staff seemed satisfied or at least polite enough to pretend.

While I wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it till thy kingdom come.

I retreated to my bedroom, and Lorenzo went to his. And that was that.

I climbed into the massive bed, stared at the ceiling, and let the silence surround me. I was married...actually married.

I turned onto my side and stared toward the dark window. Tomorrow, I’d wake up married.

Eventually, Frederick Castelli would die. The contract would end, I’d get my money, I’d leave, I’d travel, I’d finally become someone who belonged to himself.

I closed my eyes, thinking, I’m officially married to a mafia Don for money. I pulled the blanket up higher. And somehow, this was still the best option I’d ever had.

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