Bound To The Ruthless Wall Street Tycoon

Cailin stepped behind the heavy velvet curtain of the spacious fitting room.

Sienna dropped her wet coat and sat on a plush pink ottoman just outside the curtain, making herself comfortable.

Inside the small, mirrored space, Cailin unzipped her everyday dress. The dark fabric slipped off her shoulders and fell to the floor in a pool. She stood in her underwear, her skin covered in goosebumps from the chill of the air conditioning.

"So," Sienna asked loudly through the thick velvet curtain. "How is Hamp handling the debt? Is the bleeding finally stopped?"

Cailin paused. Her hands gripped the white silk of the wedding gown tightly.

"The Sterling capital injection cleared the accounts this morning," Cailin replied, her voice echoing slightly in the small space. "The company is saved. The creditors backed off."

Sienna scoffed loudly. "Hamp is a coward. Selling his own daughter to a shark like Kane Sterling just to keep his real estate empire afloat."

Cailin bit her lower lip hard enough to taste copper. She fought back a wave of bitter sadness. Sienna was right, but hearing it spoken aloud made the reality burn her chest.

She stepped into the simple off-the-shoulder gown and pulled the smooth silk up over her hips and torso.

"Have you heard the news?" Sienna suddenly asked, dropping her voice into a hushed, cautious tone. "About Hudson?"

Cailin froze completely. Her fingers, which were reaching for the delicate back zipper, stopped moving. Her stomach dropped violently.

"Hudson Duran just returned to New York," Sienna continued, unaware of Cailin's physical reaction. "He wrapped up his indie film shoot in Europe. He's back in the city, Cailin."

Cailin forced her lungs to expand. She forced her voice to remain steady, though her throat felt tight. "Hudson is in the past, Sienna."

Sienna sighed, the sound heavy with regret. "I know. I just... I always thought you two would be the ones getting married. You were the perfect childhood sweethearts. It breaks my heart."

"The Sloan family's ruin made that match impossible," Cailin reminded her, her tone flat and devoid of emotion. "Hudson's family would never let him marry a girl with a hundred million dollars in debt attached to her name."

She finally managed to grab the zipper. She pulled it up, smoothing the cool silk fabric over her waist. The dress fit perfectly.

"I'm ready," Cailin said. She grabbed the edge of the velvet curtain and pulled it back.

Sienna looked up from the ottoman. Her eyes widened instantly, her mouth parting in genuine admiration.

"Oh my god," Sienna breathed out. She clapped her hands together. "Cailin, you are going to be the most beautiful bride in Manhattan. That dress is stunning."

Cailin stepped onto the circular wooden pedestal in front of the massive three-way mirror.

She looked at her reflection. The simple dress suited her quiet nature perfectly. It didn't scream for attention. It exposed her collarbones and shoulders, the silk falling in elegant, clean lines down to the floor.

She reached up and touched her bare collarbone. For a brief, fleeting second, she felt a spark of genuine bridal joy. She felt beautiful.

Sienna stood up, walking around the pedestal to adjust the short train of the dress.

"Honestly," Sienna joked, fluffing the silk, "Kane Sterling doesn't deserve someone who looks this good. He deserves a cold, calculating robot in a pantsuit."

Cailin laughed softly. The sound was genuine, breaking the heavy tension that had been sitting in her chest all day.

She turned to the side, checking the fit of the bodice in the mirror.

Suddenly, a loud, heavy thud echoed through the boutique. The massive front doors had been swung open with aggressive force.

The cheerful atmosphere in the fitting room evaporated instantly. The air grew thick.

Cailin stopped moving. She looked past her own reflection in the mirror, her eyes locking onto the visual of the front lobby reflected in the glass.

She heard them before she saw him. The distinct, heavy, measured footsteps of a man walking across the hardwood floor. Each step sounded like a gavel striking wood.