Stealing The Groom For Sweet Revenge

Morning sunlight sliced through the gap in the heavy blackout curtains, hitting Elizabeth directly in the eyes. She blinked, her eyelashes heavy.

Her muscles ached with a dull, persistent throb. She turned her head against the feather pillow. Dorian was asleep beside her, his broad back rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

The memories of the night crashed into her brain. She pushed the duvet off her bare legs. The air conditioning chilled her heated skin. She picked up the discarded silk robe from the floor and slipped it over her shoulders.

Footsteps thundered in the hallway. Muffled, urgent whispers.

Then, the sharp beep of a master keycard.

Elizabeth's spine stiffened. She spun around, sat on the edge of the mattress, and deliberately pulled the lapels of her robe wide open, exposing her marked collarbone.

Dorian shifted. The noise woke him. He frowned, sat up slowly, and grabbed his own robe, pulling it over his shoulders with an irritating lack of urgency.

The bedroom door flew open, slamming against the wall.

Grandma Cantu stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on her silver-tipped cane. Her face was a mask of purple rage.

Behind her stood Jami, her eyes wide with a flicker of confusion before she forced them into manufactured horror, and Acey, whose face was already twisting into a violent scowl.

Jami slapped both hands over her mouth. "Oh my god!" she shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at the bed. She had stormed down the hallway primed for room 402, only to find it empty and the presidential suite door left ajar; now, seeing Elizabeth here instead, the shock in her voice carried an unscripted edge.

Acey's face turned a mottled red. He lunged forward. "You filthy whore!"

Grandma Cantu slammed her cane into the hardwood floor. The sharp crack echoed in the room. "What is the meaning of this, Dorian?"

Dorian leaned back against the tufted headboard. He lazily tied the belt of his robe. A slow, mocking smirk touched his lips.

"Exactly what it looks like, Grandmother," Dorian said. "We had a wonderful night."

Acey roared. He rolled up his sleeves and took a step toward the bed, his fists clenched.

Dorian's smirk widened into a lazy, taunting grin. He didn't even bother to stand up. "Go ahead, cousin," Dorian drawled, gesturing toward the flashing cameras in the hall. "I'm sure tomorrow's headline, 'Cantu Heir Throws Tantrum and Assaults Man in Bride's Bed,' will do wonders for the stock price. Give the press a real show." Acey froze mid-step. The mockery in Dorian's voice hit him harder than a fist, and the reminder of the cameras drained the impulsive rage from his chest, making him suddenly unwilling to cross the distance.

Seeing Acey back down, Jami rushed to the side of the bed. Tears spilled over her perfectly applied blush.

"How could you do this, Elizabeth?" Jami sobbed, her voice cracking. "How could you betray Acey? You ruined the wedding! You ruined everything for both our families!"

In the hallway behind them, the distinct click and flash of camera shutters erupted.

Meredith and Jami had brought the press. They wanted her publicly slaughtered.

Elizabeth lowered her head. She let her shoulders shake, playing the part of the broken, caught woman. Beneath the curtain of her hair, her lips curved into a cold smile.

Grandma Cantu barked at the bodyguards in the hall. "Get those vultures out of here!"

It was too late. The flashes had already captured the scene.

Acey pointed a shaking finger at Elizabeth. "I will never marry a disgusting bitch like you."

He puffed his chest out, looking at the remaining reporters in the hall. "The engagement is over. I am done with her."

Jami's eyes gleamed with triumph. She stepped back and wrapped her arms around Acey's waist, pressing her face into his shoulder to comfort him.

Grandma Cantu pointed her cane at the door. "Get your things and get out of my hotel, Elizabeth."

The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. The execution was complete.

Dorian turned his head. He caught the slight shift in Elizabeth's posture. He saw the predatory glint in her eye as she lifted her head.

He leaned back, resting his arms on his knees. The show wasn't over.

Elizabeth reached out and picked up her phone from the nightstand. She wiped a dry eye with the back of her hand.