Faith held back the urge to cry as Gemma gave voice to her greatest fear.

“He is hurting you, isn’t he?”

Faith looked up suddenly, her eyes going to Gemma’s reflection in the mirror. “No! Of course not. He would never…”

“Mm-hmm. It will only get worse. You think a man who hits you before your wedding day stops after it?”

Gemma didn’t know about Leo’s kinks. She only assumed run-of-the-mill domestic abuse like what she’d suffered with her husband. There was no room for nuance in her world.

“It’s not like that.”

“Whatever you say. I think you’re quite foolish.” Gemma buttoned the last of the long line of buttons on Faith’s dress and took a step back.

“I’d really like to be alone for a few minutes before the wedding,” Faith said.

Gemma shrugged. “If I were you, I’d slip out the back door. But you already know how I feel about it.”

When Faith was finally alone, her fingertips trailed over the delicate sapphire necklace at her throat. It had been in Leo’s family for years. Gina had lent it to her, counting it as something borrowed, something old, and something blue. Was it all right to do three parts of the tradition in one object? What did it matter? It was still a sham. None of it was real. It wasn’t being sanctioned by the Vatican. It was why they were having the wedding outdoors and not inside St. Stephen’s.

Leo had decided they would join a different parish to avoid further questioning about the marriage. He must not want to marry her if he was going to flee his childhood church to avoid making it official in the eyes of God.

He’d offered to call the wedding off, but that was worse. With a marriage, even if it wasn’t sanctioned, she felt safer. She held onto the hope that as the years passed she could make him love her in the way she hoped for. Maybe then he would get a priest to bless their marriage so it would be real.

She couldn’t stay in the dungeon every Christmas. She couldn’t give up the illusion of a family. Aunts and uncles and cousins and brothers and sisters and grandparents and parents. These had all been foreign concepts for much of her life, except on TV.

Even if Leo couldn’t give her all the things she needed, he could give her family holidays. That by itself was almost worth going through with this. She had to get through today, then she could have a breakdown privately behind closed doors.

She ran her fingers over the intricate beading of her gown. It was simple with thin straps and a satin wrap to go over her shoulders. The veil was more ornate. She felt like Cinderella, right before everything turned to rags, when it was easy to fall into the illusion and believe it could be real.

Months had passed since she’d agreed to truly be his slave, and though the cane and whips and clamps never stopped hurting, and though she never stopped being afraid of what was coming next, she went through it all because each day her need to see that look of pride and devotion remain in his eyes grew stronger. The more she became his creation, the less it mattered if she was like him.