Feminine hands landed on my shoulders from behind, tugging me from Q’s embrace.

Hey! Stop.

“Trust us, Tess.” Her—the woman who’d been singing. She smiled softly. “I’m Angelique—Frederick’s wife. Hi.”

My brain skipped, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Um—hi.” I stumbled in her hold, struggling to stay attached to Q. “Please, let me go.”

“Yes, let her go, Angelique. You don’t want me angry and you’re doing a damn good job,” Q snapped.

Angelique shook her head. “Not yet. Trust us.” She pulled harder.

My arms went from holding Q to holding air. The only part locked together was our fingertips. Q stood there, breathing hard, his face twisted with pain. He looked livid but too banged up to move. “Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“I will. Come with me, Mercer.” Frederick jerked him, breaking the last remaining contact of our fingers. Q spun around, groaning in pain. “Roux—what the—” Frederick led him away, lending a hand as Q’s stitched up legs seized from standing too long.

Let me go! I wanted to be the one who Q used as support. I wanted to hold him while his body healed.

Suzette cut off my vision, standing directly in front of me. “Remember when I said to trust me. That the second part was for him?” Her hazel eyes shimmered with nervousness. “Please…trust me.”

I looked over her head to a fighting Q. Both Frederick and Franco whispered in his ear, holding his shoulders to prevent him causing more injury.

“You’re ruining it, Suzette.” I swallowed my anxiety, battling with trusting whatever she planned to do. “Please—”

She smiled. “It will make sense. Just let it happen.” Her eyes flew to Angelique behind me. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Angelique whispered in my ear, “It will be okay. I promise.” Her hands fell to my sides just as Suzette gripped the front of my dress.

What the hell are they doing?

My eyes searched for Q but he was surrounded by his entourage. No doubt hurting himself trying to fight. Let them do it. Get it over with.

I relaxed a little and Suzette took my silence as permission.

With a sharp nod, Suzette ruined my life. The wondrous gown, so brilliantly made and oh so beautiful, ripped with the echoing sound of a lightning bolt.

The fabric ripped from the sides as if the weakness had been deliberately sewn into the dress, splitting like a well sliced cake.

It only took one tug to turn the white masterpiece into a disaster on the floor. It pooled, dead and forgotten by my feet.

What has she done?!

My heart exploded at being stripped of the only wedding dress I’d ever wear. All the preparation this morning for nothing—it ended up in pieces on the floor.

I blushed, bringing my arms up to hide my corset-clad breasts. The swell of flesh teetered provocatively on top of the tightly cinched lingerie. The black sexy pantyhose were on display, complete with saucy bow, and glittering red sequin shoes. My knickers were black lace, hiding my decency with nothing more than darker detailing between the legs. The garter belts clipped to the corset, imprisoning my legs with frilly black stays.

I’d been transformed from bride to whore.

I gasped as someone undid my hair with a sharp tug, spilling the careful up-do to waterfall down my back in lazy waves. The black feathers stayed, quivering in my strands.

Q shoved Frederick off him, his mouth gaping. “How dare you fucking touch her!” He stomped forward, undeterred by agony, zeroing in on me. But Franco wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him steadfast. Frederick recaptured him, mumbling in his ear.

“I don’t care. I want none of this. What the hell are you doing!” Q wrenched his arm free from Franco’s hold. “This wasn’t your decision!”

Don’t hurt yourself! My heart hurt for him. We were so private about our world. So sure no one would accept what we needed—so used to keeping it hidden.

To have his trusted friends expose us.

It hurt. A lot.

Standing in kinky lingerie sent embarrassment twisting my stomach, but it would be worse for Q. He hated others seeing me undressed. Especially dolled up like the slave he’d always wanted.

Wait…

My heart leapt. Is that what Suzette’s doing?

I had to go to him—to give him comfort. I might understand what all of this meant.

“Tess. Stay.” Suzette planted a firm hand on my sternum. “It’s not over yet.”

“But—”

“Let her go!” someone yelled. “Crikey, what the hell is going on here?”

That voice. Oh, my God, I knew that voice.

My eyes zeroed in on Brax.

Brax!

Q followed my moon-wide gaze, bristling with rage. He didn’t look as if he’d survived a torturing session, more like ready to jump in the ring with anyone stupid enough to get in his way.

Shit. I feared for Brax’s safety.

My ex-boyfriend jumped up from his chair, pointing a shaking finger. “Stop!” He wore a pastel blue blazer and jeans, his floppy brown hair slicked with gel. He looked older than the last time I’d seen him, more of a man than a boy.

Brax pushed a girl—our old neighbour Bianca—out of his way, stomping into the aisle. “What is the meaning of this? You don’t strip the bride—it’s awful. Stop the ceremony. Right now!”

Q shoved Franco off him, taking a calculated step toward the reckless boy from my past. His hands curled beside his hips. He spoke softly but it rippled down the aisle, skewering Brax in the chest. “You have no fucking authority here, boy. I suggest you sit down. Shut the fuck up. And don’t give me a reason to escort you off this island with my fists.”

My heart catapulted from frantic to chaotic. What had Suzette done? She’d ruined an amazing wedding…she’d upset everything.

I bent down, scooping up my discarded dress. “Suzette, let’s fix this. Help.”

Q reached for me, flinching as his body was dragged backward by Frederick. “Calm down, Q. Jesus, let us do what we’re doing okay?”

Q threw his arms up, livid anger mixing with the painful sheen on his cheeks. “Whatever you’re doing, I demand it to be over. Someone cover Tess, goddammit.”

Suzette ignored my plea to fix my dress. She winged down the aisle, shoving Brax back into his chair. “Don’t interfere. You’re the only outsider here, so sit down and hush up.” Turning, she headed to Q. Terror glowed in her eyes, but determination lent strength to her features. “Please. Stop fighting. Let us do this. Trust me, Q. Please! Give me one minute, then you can kill me, smite me, whatever you want. Just let us do this.”

Q snarled, “How about you stop. Right now. I’m fucking done with whatever is going on here!”

I huddled, waiting for an explosion. The atmosphere in the room sparked with ignition—ready to blow up at any second.

The celebrant’s voice was the persona of calm in the horrendous storm. “Excuse me, everyone, but I have been made privy to this new arrangement, and I suggest you take the lady’s advice and let her proceed.”

Everyone froze.

Q breathed hard, his energy levels depleting. He stood panting, his face contorted with agony. “This is ridiculous.”

“I agree. You fighting is ridiculous. Stand still for one damn moment.” Frederick took his hands carefully off Q. When Q didn’t sprint out of the marquee or punch him, Frederick took the opportunity to rip the white blazer from his shoulders.

At the same time Franco tore at Q’s trousers. The material fell away, revealing shiny black slacks. In a blink, Q was disarmed of the illusion of pureness and re-dressed in darkness. His tie came undone, waistcoat, and shirt all ripped from his bruised torso.

What are they doing?

Q stood half-naked and I couldn’t control the desire spooling in my blood. The dampness between my legs multiplied staring at the man who owned my heart. The damaged man who needed to lie down and let me lavish him with love.

My eyes fell to the scarring ‘T’ above his heart, barely visible amongst fresh bruises. My heart flurried. My self-consciousness and doubt faded away, drinking in his perfection.

Frederick turned to a hidden pedestal, returning with a black blazer beautifully tailored with embroidered crimson sparrows.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Q demanded as the new blazer was shoved up his arms and positioned over his shoulders. His naked chest and tattoo stayed visible through the gaping of the fabric.

Frederick growled, “Giving you a memory you will never forget, you bastard.”

Q’s face darkened. “I had everything I wanted before you fucked it up.”

Franco shook his head. “You had the white wedding, but you and Tess are more than that. You come alive in the dark. And that’s what we’re giving you. Believe me, you’ll want this.”

Q gritted his teeth, shrugging the new clothing into position. He transformed from angel to monster. My monster.

Q’s eyes landed on me, striking the match, blazing gunpowder to my core. My stomach fluttered as his gaze devoured me. I wanted to run my tongue down his chest. I wanted to tear off his trousers and worship him with my mouth.

My damp knickers became soaking with how deliciously dangerous he was. How bruised and damaged and sore.

Dropping my hands, I let my corset and lingerie shine. I was no longer self-conscious. I was what Q wanted most.

I was the ultimate prize. I was his. And he…he was my master.

My flesh tingled. I know what Suzette is doing.