His Fake Proposal, My Real Wedding

"Want to get married? Get over here. Now."

On Christmas Eve, Lucas texted me the address of a dive bar.

By the time I showed up in a wedding gown, gasping for breath, he and his gang were howling with laughter.

In front of everyone, he dropped to one knee in front of Mia, let his boys humiliate me to their heart's content, and even threatened to have me thrown into a police cell.

Until my real husband appeared and pulled me into his arms, staking his claim without a word.

Lucas's eyes went red in an instant.

Chapter 1

"Eve, have you got any shame at all? Lucas has a girlfriend now — you still tagging along like some stripper?"

A piercing wolf whistle split the gloom of the street bar.

I stood there like a circus clown in a spotless white gown, ringed by Lucas and his crew of tattooed, low-rent gangbangers.

"All these years — has the boss ever looked at you properly? And you still think you can put on a wedding dress and marry him?"

"The way she whimpers after him like a dog — I could watch that a hundred times and still laugh."

Filth and the sour stink of cheap beer hit me in the face. I stared hard at Lucas, perched on the pool table, trying to find one flicker of guilt in those familiar eyes.

Total disappointment.

Lucas flipped his butterfly knife, grinning like a thorough lowlife. "Eve, it's a joke. Don't tell me you can't take a joke?"

He hopped off the table, boots crunching through cigarette butts, and leaned in to size me up. "Honestly? I didn't think you'd actually have the nerve to show up in a bridal gown in a slum. What's the matter? That desperate to be my woman?"

There was a time I was obsessed with exactly that — the swagger, the street-bred insolence.

Now that face just made me sick.

I gripped the skirt of my dress and took a slow breath.

"And if I tell you I can't take a joke?"

The words were barely out before a hand shoved me hard in the back. I stumbled half a step and nearly went down on the beer-slicked floor.

"What right do you have to not take a joke? You've been stuck to our boss like a piece of gum for years. Being played is exactly what you deserve!"

"Go on, be tough today. See if you're still tough tomorrow when you come crying back, begging the boss to take you in!"

Lucas looked down at me, contempt written all over him.

"Acting like a saint when you're nothing but trash." He gave a cold snort. "Eve. Have I been too soft on you?"

It felt like a rusted nail driven straight through my heart.

The Lucas who once swore he'd protect me on these streets, who swore he'd never let me shed a single tear — he's the one who ended up burying the knife deepest.

I'd followed Lucas since I was old enough to understand anything.

In the orphanage, when a bigger kid took my bread, he launched himself at the boy like a wolf cub, beat him bloody, and broke two of his own ribs doing it.

I was shaking all over. He just grinned through a split lip and held me tight. "Don't be scared, Eve. I've got you from now on."

That "from now on" lasted over ten years.

We never said out loud what we were, but everyone assumed I was his. For the first twenty-odd years of my life, he was the only light in the world.

And he gave that light to another woman and set her up in the sky.

Fine. Then I don't want a light that's rotted through.

I straightened my spine and met his eyes, cold.

"Don't worry. I'm getting married myself, very soon."

"From now on, I will never set foot on your turf again."

"Lucas. You're completely free."