Page 92 of Silver Sinner

"What?" My blood turns to ice. "She's not taking her anywhere!"

Trik laughs roughly. "Did I say you had a choice in the matter? Do you still not get it?" With each word, he flicks his finger against my forehead. "You. Are. A. Fucking. Formality. Understand?" He rolls his eyes. "And a factory if Maddie doesn't work out."

For a single, cold moment, I consider grabbing Maddie and throwing us both out of the window. It's not far to the street, and if I time it right, a car could end this for both of us immediately. Death would be preferable to whatever future Trik is laying out for me, especially if it's true about Pierce.

I can't fathom what fucked up state Trik's left him in. If he's even really alive, there can't be much left of him after what I saw. The fact that he was even looking for me feels like a dream.

"Come on."

Before I can blink, Trik passes me and scoops Maddie up into his arms. She immediately protests with a wriggle but otherwise remains docile, and he takes her from the room. As he sets her down outside, my plan to kill us both disappears in a puff of smoke.

I wasn't strong enough to do that.

I wasn't strong enough to do anything. Despair eats away at me like a fever as Trik returns, grabs my arm and drags me from the room. The hall echoes with the hurried clack of my heels on the wooden floor and then he vanishes, leaving me in the care of Pavel.

Pavel doesn't speak. He simply pointedly offers me his elbow and as soon as I take it, the large wooden doors in front of us swing open and the wedding march bellows through the air.

At any other time, it would be beautiful. The church is one of the grandest buildings I have ever seen in my life, with intricate religious artwork sweeping up the walls and covering the ceiling. Exquisite candle chandeliers dangle from above, carved pillars line the walls near the pews, and a gigantic organ sits at the far end of the church where Trik stands next to the priest.

I can't fathom how much a wedding like this costs. Thousands? Millions, surely. A church like this is far too extravagant to be worth anything less than half a million and someone like Pavel, with more points to prove than a star, surely went all out. Thousands of flowers line the aisle between the pews where a sea of strangers gaze at me with empty eyes, and I walk arm in arm with Pavel while running the monetary calculations in my mind.

Oddly, it's the only thing I can think about. This dress may have been the cheapest thing here, since the faint mildewy scent that occasionally catches my nose as I walk suggests it's a hand-me-down rather than a purchase. The shoes are new. They pinch and bite with every step, and Trik's suit has the cut of an expensive tailor, since it fits him like it was molded for him. Not this dress, though. I feel frumpy and over-exposed. Heat surges to my face as I reach Trik and he takes my hand in an iron grip.

Pavel steps away and takes a seat next to a thin, older woman who has more wrinkles than features on her face. She sits in a plum dress that hangs off her thin frame, and purses her lips under the brim of her gigantic hat laden with flowers. She's the only woman in the first two rows, so she must be Anastasia. Maddie sits next to her with her wide eyes fixed on me, so I force a smile that she quickly returns.

The music fades and the fantastically adorned priest, in more robes and layers than I can count, raises his hands and begins to speak.

"Blessed is our God always, both now and ever, and to the ages of ages."

"Amen," rumbles up from the crowd and Trik. It might be the most well behaved I've ever seen him."

"In peace let us pray to the Lord," the priest continues. "For the peace from above; for the salvation of our souls; let us pray to the Lord…"

I zone out. He might as well be speaking in another language. Heat rises across my skin in a flush as the lace of the dress tickles and itches. The high collar feels more like a restrictive fist, similar to the one currently crushing my hand. I swallow and shift from foot to foot as the gnawing despair inside me turns my body into a cavern.

I can't do this. I can't have a life like this. I can't subject Madeline to a world of horror. As soon as I get a chance, I'm taking her and I'm ending it for both of us.

No one is coming to help me. I have to end this myself.

And it breaks my heart.

Trik's hand tightens briefly in mine and draws me back to the priest as he wraps up his speech.

"…let us commend ourselves and one another and all our life to Christ our God." The priest lowers his hands. "Now. Repeat after me." His eyes lock onto Trik and he speaks, with Trik repeating every word to me with a voice laced in venom.

"I take you, Layla, to be my wife. I promise to love and cherish you, to be faithful to you and not to leave you in sorrow or in joy, in sickness or in health, until the end of our lives." A cruel glint sparkles in his eye as he reels off the last part, and had I had any fear left, it surely would have spiked.

"Now, repeat after me," the priest says and he faces me. As he speaks, it takes all my effort to get the words past my numb lips.

"I take you, Trik, to be my husband. I promise to love and cherish you, to be faithful to you and not to leave you in sorrow or in joy, in sickness or in health, until the end of our lives." My words carve the signature on my death certificate as the coldness in Trik's eyes makes me doubt I'll even see the end of the day.

"Now," the priest says. "If any of you can show just cause why they may not lawfully be married, speak now; or else forever hold your peace."

Silence falls.

No one speaks.

No one moves.