Trapped (Sinners of Boston #5)

4. Delilah

FOUR

DELILAH

Today was my wedding, but the man I planned to abandon at the altar barely crossed my thoughts.

I sat in my bedroom, playing with my phone. Inside the case was a slip of paper with a number I had to call but couldn’t. My soon-to-be ex-fiancé didn’t tolerate other men in my life, especially Italian men with seductive grins who lurked in dark corners.

Santino.

After I’d agreed to be his, he told me in explicit detail what he wanted. Santino hadn’t bothered with sweet words. He’d laid out his terms with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. It would happen tonight after he whisked me away from the wedding. I had to confirm that we were good, but I couldn’t contact him. Not with Zofia hovering and Dimitri’s men outside my bedroom.

I put my phone down. The stylist doused me in hair spray as I grabbed a half-filled bottle of vodka and swallowed a mouthful.

The key to daytime drinking was doing it slowly. Little sips of alcohol, all day. Sometimes, I didn’t realize how wasted I was. I’d grab a cup, miss it, and never feel drunk because being drunk was normal. Sober was chaos. Sober was panic attacks.

My stepmother, Zofia, a tall blonde in a form-fitting black gown, scowled at me. “Don’t drink too much. A Romanov woman doesn’t slur her vows.”

“I’m not planning on slurring anything.”

Zofia lifted the bottle from my hands and set it on the vanity. “All eyes will be on you. Our family, your future husband’s family. If you bring shame to us, there is no coming back.”

“I know.”

I’d given a lot of thought to how Dimitri’s people, his colleagues, and even the side piece he assumed I was clueless about would witness his humiliation. After today, he’d be the laughingstock of the Bratva.

The promise of his destruction kept me sane, making me keep my mouth shut when Dimitri talked down to me. He could do whatever he wanted. I had the best revenge planned for him.

But this morning, when I woke up to fresh bruises on my arms, doubt slithered in my head like a cold snake. If my deal with Santino didn’t go through and Dimitri caught me trying to escape, the damage he’d inflict on me could be permanent. It could be fatal.

The stylist backed off, and the makeup artist took her place. She squirted foundation onto her hand, dabbed the brush into it, and swiped it across my face. She paid particular attention to the hollows under my eyes.

Zofia checked her Rolex, sucking in her cheeks. She’d been a nightmare all week. Dad had ordered her to watch me, and she stuck to my side, pestering me about last-minute changes to seating arrangements, makeup trials, and picking a hairstylist.

“I hope you’re not getting any ideas about backing out. Because there’s no walking away from this. Not without consequences. Cover that up,” she barked to the makeup artist, pointing at the faint purple marks on my arm.

The girl continued her work in silence, her brush strokes methodical.

The door creaked open, and a young girl peeked in. “Are you ready for the dress?”

“Bring it in,” Zofia commanded, her tone brooking no argument. The girl disappeared and returned moments later, struggling with the weight of the gown. The dress was ridiculous, as if someone had tried to trap a wedding in a cage.

Zofia took it from the girl and held it up, inspecting every inch and seam. “This is what a Romanov bride wears. Strong, elegant.”

The dress seemed to mock me with its pristine white fabric. A symbol of commitment when all I felt was trapped. This wasn’t the dress of my dreams. I’d always wanted something vintage, with delicate lace. But no, they had insisted on this modern monstrosity.

“It’s beautiful,” I lied, my voice hollow.

She smiled. “Now, let’s get you into it.”

I was dying to tear the dress apart, but any defiance would cost me. So I stood there as Zofia manhandled me into the gown.

“There.” Zofia stepped back, her lips curving slightly. “ Solnyshko , you look perfect.”

I looked like a doll. I was Dimitri’s flawless bride, dressed to play the part while planning my escape.

I pasted on a smile and met Zofia’s gaze in the mirror. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Zofia said, her tone softening just a fraction as she smoothed a wrinkle in my skirt. “Your guests are waiting.”

I followed Zofia out, the satin and tulle rustling. The cold weight of her hand on my back reminded me I was being pushed, not led.

Downstairs, the sound of distant chatter grew louder. I kept moving, but all I thought about was the man I’d be throwing myself at. Was Santino a better choice than Dimitri? Would he even come? What if he decided not to and left me here to face Dimitri’s wrath?

I needed to call Santino.

I mingled with guests for as long as I could stand and then headed to the bathroom. I stuffed myself in and locked the door. Finally alone, I pulled my phone from a hidden pocket in my dress, my hands trembling as I dialed Santino’s number.

The line connected.

“Delilah?”

His velvety murmur stroked my ear.

“Yes. It’s me. I have to keep this short. They’re watching me.” I dropped my voice. “So you’ll be outside the church?”

“I won’t be. Got a friend handling that part.”

“How do I even know this is real?”

He released an exasperated breath. “You asked for a way out, and I’m giving you one. My guy’s solid. He’ll get you out of there.”

“I don’t like this,” I whispered. “If anything goes wrong, I’m dead?—”

“ Hey . You think I’d waste my time setting this up to watch you marry your prick of a fiancé? I’ve got a lot riding on this, Delilah. Stick to the plan.”

“You don’t understand the risk I’m taking. Dimitri will kill me.”

“I won’t fail you.”

I gripped the phone tighter. “I’m supposed to trust a random guy whose only interest is fucking me?”

A dark chuckle rumbled through the speaker. “You don’t have to trust me. You just have to do what I say.”

I gnawed on my lip. “And what if I decide not to?”

“I don’t need to remind you what’ll happen if you stay with him. I’m offering you an opportunity so you don’t end up six feet under or wishing you were. All you have to do is give me what I want. You should thank me.”

My cheeks burned. “For what, using me as your plaything?”

“Pretty much.”

I despised the idea of giving in to him, but the alternative was far worse. Dimitri was cruel, controlling, and dangerous. But Santino? He didn’t want to hurt me. He wanted to play with me.

“Do we have an understanding, or are you gonna keep playing hard to get?”

I laughed bitterly. “You’re not making this decision easier.”

“You want out? This is how it’ll work. You’re going to calm down. You’ll pretend to be a blushing bride. You’ll smile. Pose for pictures. When you’re at the church, use the side door, and my guy will be waiting at the curb. He’ll bring you where you need to go, and then…you and I will have a nice time together.”

“Right.”

“This is your chance. Either take it or live the rest of your life as Dimitri’s possession.”

“Fine,” I snarled. “But if you screw me over, I’ll?—”

A fist hammered the door.

I ended the call and slipped the phone in my pocket. The door’s lock unlatched, and Zofia stood there, her black eyes glittering with suspicion.

“Were you drowning in the sink?”

I glowered at her. “I needed a minute to myself.”

Zofia grabbed my arm and steered me out of the bathroom. “This is your wedding day. Mingle. Talk to your guests!”

“Stop yanking me.”

Zofia halted, her bony fingers still clamped around me. “I heard you in there, solnyshko . You were talking to someone. I hope it wasn’t another man. Dimitri would be very unhappy to know this.”

“Of course not,” I snapped. “Why would I do something so stupid?”

“You’ve been sulking like a little child for weeks.”

I forced myself to hold her gaze. “I’ve done everything my fiancé has asked me to do. I just needed a moment to myself.”

“For what?”

“To be alone . Weddings are stressful enough without you breathing down my neck.”

She released me and held out her palm. “Give me your phone.”

I handed it over. A sickening pulse throbbed in my stomach as she unlocked it, her thumb clicking my recent calls list. She bared her teeth as she stabbed Santino’s number and hit the button for speakerphone.

Please don’t pick up .

I swallowed hard, trying to look bored. Zofia glared at me as she waited for the call to connect. My heart slammed against my ribs. If Santino answered, it would all be ruined.

The phone rang once, twice, and then?—

“Hello?” A woman’s voice echoed through the speaker.

Zofia’s brows arched. “Who is this?”

“This is Julia from Bliss Bridal.”

“Why did Delilah call this number?”

“Um…just following up about the gown and last-minute alterations.”

I stared at Zofia, praying she would buy it. She frowned. “Shouldn’t you be speaking with the wedding planner?”

“Oh, I do apologize. There was a minor question regarding the fit, and I wanted to make sure it was perfect for the big day. It’s a quick follow-up. We want Delilah to look her absolute best.”

Zofia hesitated. “Well, go through the proper channels in the future.”

“Of course. Thank you so much for understanding.”

Zofia hung up and thrust the phone into my hand. I slipped it into my dress, slowly letting out a tense breath. Thanks, Julia, whoever you are . Luckily, Santino had planned for this situation weeks ago.

As I returned to the party, Zofia’s stare bored into my head. I had to be careful. Any slip-up and Zofia would pounce on me.

The ride to the church was a blur, with Zofia sitting beside me, watching. When we arrived, my throat was so tight I could barely breathe. The massive doors loomed ahead, the steps lined with white lilies. Guests had already filled the pews.

Zofia grabbed me as I stepped out of the car.

I allowed myself to be led up the steps and into a small antechamber where various family members picked to be my bridesmaids waited. Soft chatter filled the room as the girls adjusted their tulle skirts, making last-minute touch-ups to their makeup. When we entered, the room quieted.

Natalia, the wedding planner, shepherded women into place. The girls fell into line, their pastel-colored dresses swirling as they moved. Zofia stood at the door leading to the church, her arms crossed.

“You should get to your seat,” I told her.

Zofia nodded. “Remember, Delilah. No foolishness.”

She disappeared inside. Minutes later, the organ music swelled to life. One by one, bridesmaids filed down the aisle.

A door creaked, and I gritted my teeth. Natalia poked her head in.

“It’s time,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

I forced a smile. “Just need a moment. I’ll be right out.”

She hesitated but nodded and slipped out, closing the door behind her. I let out a shaky breath and wiped my palms on my dress.

This was it. Now or never.

Trembling, I reached for the door that led out. It opened, revealing a brilliant sky. I stepped outside and didn’t dare look back.

I was free.