The Billionaire’s Forever (His Submissive #12)(2)
Author: Ava Claire

"Leila?"

I blinked and Alicia was in front of me, concern in her gray eyes.

The doors started closing so I hit the door open button, then wished I hadn’t.

"Is everything alright?" Her name rung out and the truth I was about to finally release was wasted. She’d already started down the hall before I could say ‘No’.

I sighed and followed her, finally seeing Lindy Alistair in the flesh. She seemed much younger than Macy Scott, both physically and demeanor-wise. She had long, jet-black hair except for blunt bangs that slashed across her forehead. While most would hide their freckles behind foundation and concealer, she rocked hers proudly. The spots sprinkled one cheek before spreading over the bridge of her button nose and spilling onto the other cheek. Big blue eyes were framed by dark, thick lashes. I was surprised by her casual dress, her thin body clad in an oversized plaid shirt, denim shorts, and gladiator sandals. She looked ready to meet a friend for coffee, not discuss the wedding of the century. And standing in the hall of Alicia’s posh hotel, she looked downright dowdy.

She held out her hand, bubblegum pink nails glittering. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Leila!"

I shook her hand gingerly and stood their awkwardly as she and Alicia hugged like they were best friends.

“And you,” she said, holding Alicia at arm’s length, worry clouding her face. “Are you alright? We totally could have done this after you got settled in.”

Alicia plunked her key from her clutch and we spilled into her suite. "Don’t be silly. Thanks for meeting us, Lin."

"Of course," Lindy answered, picking at her bracelet. "I’m still a little shocked you wanted to see me so soon after you left the hospital."

Alicia waved her hand, dismissing the statement. "I’m not an invalid. And we have a lot of ground to cover if we’re going to get them down the aisle in three weeks."

"Three weeks?" I hissed, clutching my chest. Heart attacks weren’t contagious, but damn if I wasn’t feeling all the symptoms. Pressure tightened my chest. Nausea settled in my stomach and the urge to vomit was overwhelming. I couldn’t catch my breath and my heart banged in my chest.

Lindy took my reaction in slowly before looking back at Alicia. "I was under the impression the bride was aware of the date?"

Alicia glided to the wet bar. "She said as soon as possible. Short of Vegas or eloping, that’s as soon as possible."

She was right, I had said ASAP and while a tiny part of me jokingly just wanted to get on with it, honestly, I thought I’d have enough time to talk my way out of it. Three weeks nixed that as an option.

I tugged at the front of my blouse, heat slapping me in waves as sweat dashed down my spine. Lindy looked genuinely concerned. Her eyes told me that she could tell something was very wrong.

I gave her a pained smile. "Could you give us a second?"

"Absolutely," she answered quickly. "I’ll be right outside."

I waited until Alicia poured herself something to drink before I gathered myself, ready to come clean.

"Alicia–"

The door swung open and I got ready to tell Lindy off, but it was Jacob standing there, handsome face pulled into a scowl.

He came in, his voice tight with anger. "Mother, why is a wedding planner outside your hotel room?"

I sighed with relief. Thank god. He was going to end this whole mess.

"I thought you agreed no wedding planning until we got you settled in."

My heart plummeted. Just a stay of execution, then.

He started admonishing her for the alcohol she was gingerly sipping, but I tuned the conversation out. I didn’t care that it was 11am. I maneuvered around them and pulled out the vodka. The clear liquid sloshed into the glass and I brought the rim to my lips, still trying to figure out how to say this, especially with Jacob in the room. How to tell her thanks but no thanks, even though she practically said this was her life’s goal. On her freaking deathbed.

"You were literally in the hospital half an hour ago," Jacob growled, taking her glass away. "Booze, visitors, stress…" He trailed off and I looked over at him. He was genuinely pissed. Not because she’d disobeyed him.

He was afraid. Worried.

He loved her and was terrified she’d end up back in the hospital.

I took another sip. I wanted to believe that Alicia changed, that she was gonna try. For Jacob’s sake. For her own sake–because Rachel Laraby was a walking, talking billboard for how hate can devour a soul and make a beautiful person a monster.

This wedding meant so much to Alicia. She was barely home and was already working to make sure everything was perfect.

I just didn’t have it in me to break her heart.

Me, not wanting to hurt a woman who’d hurt me so effortlessly. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so sad. If it didn’t mean sacrificing my dreams.

****

Mia Kent walked into the ladies room and I barely recognized her. The soft lines of her face were the same, along with wide blue eyes that glared at my slack-jawed expression.

The bleach blond length with one side brutally short was now a dark, chocolate brown. A single plait weaved down her shoulder and the shorter side was smooth, the symmetrical nature of the haircut camouflaged. Except for a peach bronze on her cheeks and a glossy sheen on her lips, Mia wore no makeup. Instead of some hipster number that showed too much skin, she wore a black romper paired with a cropped denim jacket and animal print flats.

"Mia,” I breathed, staring at her with awe, “You look amazing!"

Her annoyance faded into a hesitant smile. "I do?" She fingered the dark locks gingerly. "This is as close to my natural color I’ve been in a long time."

I was so used to the blond that it was a shock to the system, but the rich color accentuated her features, intensifying her electric blue eyes. "The color is beautiful, the outfit is casual, yet sophisticated–" I paused, the slight smile on my lips broadening. "I’m impressed."

"And you–" She stopped. Her eyes slowly took me in, decidedly less awestruck. "Uh…"

‘Uh’ was right. Sure, I was wearing all the right pieces–a cobalt blue blouse, a cream colored skirt and nude heels–but it all looked kinda meh because the rest of me was pretty lackluster. My hair rioted against all attempts at taming it, determined to do nothing except frizz, so I piled it on top of my head. All the hairspray and gel in the world couldn’t smooth my flyaway curls, so it looked like I’d taken a section of hair at the crown of my head and tried for a ponytail while the rest just did its own thing.

A lack of sleep meant I had bags beneath my eyes and my complexion was splotchy and irritated. Mia looked ready for a new chapter–I looked like a beat up edition far past its prime.