Page 50 of Forbidden Bride (Forbidden 1)
Marco climbs out the window like he’s been doing this his entire life, using the massive trellis for hand- and footholds. I’m nervous about the trellis being able to support our combined weight, but luckily, I’m not afraid of heights. All those years of tree climbing once upon a time have made me a fairly steady climber. Even still, I can’t help imagining the worst. That both of us plummet four stories to the ground and our love story ends like a tragic Renaissance novel. Joy followed by impossible tragedy. My only saving grace is that I won’t be wearing that putrid wedding dress when they find my body.
“Karina!” Marco whisper-shouts from halfway down the wall.
I hesitate, and then remind myself that we could get caught any moment. This is my one chance to escape this wedding, and get everything I want. Nerves aren’t going to stop me.
Hell, nothing is going to stop me.
I slip out onto the ledge, crouch down, and turn my body to face the window. Then I brace my palms on the ledge and drop one leg to the trellis below. I find a foothold, test the trellis with my weight, and then drop my other leg down to start my descent. Foothold, handhold, foothold, handhold. I climb like a machine, focusing on one movement at a time, while Marco whispers encouragements from below me. The wood slats are thin, but years of growth mean the vines of ivy are tightly curled around the slats, reinforcing them. Even still, I find myself holding my breath, fearful that the entire trellis will rip away from the wall at any moment.
I can’t believe it when I finally touch the ground, stumbling back into Marco’s arms. And I really can’t believe it when we hurry across the grounds to the car waiting behind the property, far from the valets and the staff, the security guards and guests, all the powerful men and wives who are gathered to witness my nuptials.
Marco pulls me in for a quick kiss and then whips open the passenger door, ushering me into the seat. As I buckle up, my mind conjures an image of Pietro and my uncle and his armed guards all running after us.
But I don’t look back.
My heart soars as Marco turns the key in the ignition and we speed away from what’s about to truly be the event of the season.
The Wedding with No Bride.
