Seventy-two steps until my life ends. Mendelssohn’s Wedding March wafts from the strings of the tuxedoed orchestra serenading my death. The white-satin bridal gown and veil cling to me like a shroud.

One.

Two.

Three. I count to calm my galloping heart.

Cold eyes at the end of the aisle lock with mine, daring me to run. The golden wings of the turtledove necklace hidden within the bouquet of white roses fisted in my hand, cut into my palm.

Four.

Five.

The robed priest smiles under the watchful eyes of the marble saints. Murmurs of “So beautiful,” and “God bless” turn to wailing shrieks of horror as a shot rings out, dancing across the crescendo of the wedding march.

God isn't here today. And there will be no marriage, only death at this red wedding.

‘Cause apparently that’s just my luck. My father’s men rush the church and Ian follows behind. I glance back to Xavier, my almost husband, standing at the dias beside the priest, with a gleam in his eye and a wicked smile curving his lips.

“Kill him,” my father orders, his voice echoing off the stained-glass windows.

Fear claws its way up my spine. Because, even though I had no idea this wedding wasn't to Ian until I got here, that it was to Xavier, even though I felt nothing amid the swarm of eagles in my stomach, even though I didn't want this wedding either, I would throw myself in front of the bullet to protect him.

Xavier doesn't flinch at my father’s words. “Right on cue,” he takes a step down from his ledge he was gracefully standing on, “as expected.”

My father steps closer, passing through the stand off of men with guns drawn. Shell-shocked, I stand frozen midway up the aisle, not sure which way to move, The room has all but cleared out, leaving only Xavier, his men, and my father with his. Oh, and me. A sitting duck caught in the crossfires, hoping no one shoots.

“You were a hard bastard to flush out. I paraded your daughter everywhere, and it took quite a while to get you to show up. A few more minutes and we would have been hitched,” Xavier says ever so cool. So icy. Frigid. “Good thing she's not my sister. Not sure the priest would've gone for that.” He moves closer. “Marshall says hello.”

My dad halts his steps as Xavier continues. “Must've really killed you that your wife loved your best friend—my father.”

I gasp. My heart pounds against the beading of the bodice of this suffocating dress. But, it’s ok, I don’t dare breathe. The room is silent, only the sound of harsh breathing as Xavier’s light chuckle echoes through the space. “That is serious hatred: frame him for a crime he didn't commit, bring his wife and young son under your care.” His voice slices through the air with hatred. “Produce fake documents to convince him I'm your son. All while torturing your wife with the woman he really loved under her roof.”

My father's lips press into a thin line. “You're insane.”

Xavier shrugs, pulling a gun from the back of his tuxedo. “I think we’re all a little insane. You’re the sickest fuck of all. You killed my mother because she found out the truth: you fucked up our lives to punish your wife for loving another man, and you used us to punish him for something he couldn't control.”

My head spins at the twisted mind of my father.

“Shoot him,” my father bellows.

No one moves.

“You think these men are here to protect you?” Xavier tsks. “Wrong again. They are loyal to me now.”

“What are you talking about?” My father’s eyes shoot to the men who now lower their guns. “What is all this? Rhiannon, come with me.” He holds out his hand, demanding with his eyes for me to take it.

“No, that won’t be happening. She listens to me now,” Xavier says.

And when I turn back to face him, the barrel of his gun is aimed straight at me.

Panic rushes over me, a state of fear settling deep into my bones. “Xavier,” I whisper.

He takes one tentative step forward, aiming his black weapon at me.

“It’s time for atonement.”

My confused eyes lock with Xavier’s icy stare. My heart doesn’t dare beat for fear of setting anything off.

My father drops his hand, backing away from me slightly. “What do you want?”

“To set Rhiannon free. You can’t hurt her now. No one can; not even me.”

And he pulls the trigger.

And the bullet hits me dead center.

And there’s blood, so much blood flowing down the white of my dress.

And then it all fades to black.