"But we first have to get it annulled," I yell after him.
"Get dressed, Mariya." Luca orders before leaving the room
I stare at the door as it shuts, trying to figure out whether I'm offended or turned on because Luca gave me an order. Jesus, Mariya. Get dressed!
I drop the towel and quickly pull on underwear, a pair of jeans, a silk blouse, and my favorite Dolce and Gabanna heels. When I brush my hair and tie it into a sleek ponytail, I pause as the realization hits again.
I'm married to Luca.
I hold my left hand in front of me, staring down at the diamond ring. Shit, I can't believe I got married to Luca.
It's pretty.
Part of me wishes it was real. Under normal circumstances,
this would be nothing short of a dream come true.
But there's nothing normal about us having a wedding in Vegas while drunk out of our minds.
What will this mean for the business ties between our families? How will our parents react?
Dad's going to lose his shit. When I finger the platinum band, I notice the ring fits perfectly. Even drunk, Luca or I made sure they got the size right.
God only knows what I said in my drunken state.