I leave the detective hanging as my mouth drops agape in shock. I continue holding the cellphone to my ear because I have suddenly forgotten how to use my hands. I've never been held up at gunpoint before.

"Do it," Nick hisses between clenched teeth. He waits another five seconds and then he gestures to the phone with the gun as though I'm too stupid to understand what exactly he wants me to do.

"I know it must be hard for you to talk to me about all this," Detective Stevens continues, unaware of the danger I am currently in. "But I need to know if you and Kevin were acquaintances. Did he tell you he was going anywhere today? Did you two have plans to meet up?"

Wow, I think to myself. Did Kevin have nothing in his apartment that hinted to the police that he had a WEDDING to attend today?

"Acquaintances?" I mutter into the phone in shock.

"Yes, we already spoke to his girlfriend. She says she saw you two at a bar a couple of weeks ago. Did you two ever talk again?"

"His girlfriend?" Now, I'm seeing red with fury. I'm more concerned about Kevin's betrayal than about Nick shooting me. If Nick has come here to kill me, he had plenty of opportunities to do so already. He didn't have to walk me down the aisle. Nick also sees me calling his buff regarding his eagerness to put a bullet in my brain. He sighs and gestures again to the phone.

"Yes, yes. Kevin Monroe was involved with someone else," Nick snaps before Detective Stevens can answer. "He was dating a waitress at the Polo Bar the entire time he was seeing you."

I hang up the phone and meet Nick's eyes. Finally, he tells me the truth.

I suddenly want to drive a fist into those gorgeous blue eyes. Nick knew all along that Kevin was playing me for a fool. Why did he stand around and go through this charade of a wedding with me? Because he found it funny? 

As if on cue, Nick's lip seems to curl up with just a hint of a smirk. He finds my fury amusing. I don't care anymore that he's a mobster with a gun. I cross the room and shove him in the chest. 

"How dare you laugh at me?"

"I'm sorry. I find it hard to believe a pretty girl like you went through all this trouble for an idiot like Kevin Monroe."

"How dare you call him that! Why are you even here? Did you come here today to kill him? Or to kill me? Don't you think the universe has hurt me enough? Fine, put a bullet between my eyes!"

"I didn't come here to kill you," Nick sighs and puts his gun away inside his jacket. "If you can recall, I was on my way out before you barged into this dressing room."

"You came here to kill Kevin? Did you kill Kevin?" I glance around the room, looking for a bloodstain, or a garbage bag, anything that would hint that an altercation had occurred here. I don't know why I'm concerned that Kevin showed up here today if he is also dating a waitress at the Polo Bar. Maybe I want to believe he loved me more? Loved? Why am I thinking about him in the past tense? Is Kevin dead?

"Come on," Nick grumbles and seizes my arm. I dig my heels into the ground, so Nick picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. I drive my fists into his back, but it's no good. His body is practically made of steel. I don't have much lower body strength, but this ballgown is heavy. I can't believe he throws his duffle bag over his other shoulder like nothing at all is amiss. He hums to himself as he crosses the short distance between the dressing room and the emergency exit. I consider screaming, but I'm scared he'll use that pistol on whoever responds to help me.

The sight of Kevin's father being carted out of that pizzeria on the television screen haunts me. These are dangerous people, and they won't hesitate to kill anyone standing in the way of their "business."

"Where are you taking me?"

"You've seen my face, and you have the police on the line. Did you think I was just going to walk out of here?"

"My friends and family have pictures of your face!" I threaten quietly, not loud enough to send everyone running but enough to alarm him enough to give my bum a threatening squeeze. "If you leave now, I'll tell them you were some crazy ex-boyfriend and not a mafia goon sent here to kill my fiancé."

"Not a chance, love," Nick chuckles. "But if you come quietly, I promise, I won't hurt you."

"Why would I believe that?"

"Because I've realized that there's something you can help me with."

"What's that?"

"You'll see," Nick says and lets me down as we step outside. He slides the exit door quietly behind us. "You might even enjoy it."

"You won't hurt me?" I repeat as he takes my upper arm before I'm able to run away. I wouldn't make it very far in this dress. Historically, they must have forced brides to wear these giant annoying contraptions to keep them from running away on their wedding night.

There's a sleek, dark gray Porsche Spyder parked outside in the alley. I only have a moment to marvel at the sight of such an expensive car parked next to a garbage bin before Nick throws me into the passenger seat. I'm surprised he doesn't tie me up or throw me into the trunk. I wonder if I would even fit into the trunk with my giant poofy dress. Even so, he must trust me a great deal to let me sit in the passenger seat. I could easily reach over and gorge his eyes out while he drives.

"No, sweetheart. I distinctly remember promising to love and honor you till death do us part, however soon that might be."

"Soon?" I squeal.

"Look, sweetheart," Nick pulls the car out of the alley, and we go riding into the night in a trail of burned rubber. "The people who killed your Kevin's family won't stop until they get their money. If they don't find it or Kevin, they'll start coming after everyone he associated with. If the girlfriend tells the cops that you know something, you're next on the hit list."

"So they're coming to kill me?"

"Don't worry, sweetheart. Now that you're with me, they won't find you so easy to kill."

I let those words sink in. The goons will have to get through Nick Madigan first. As much as I hated being the target of a mafia hit list, at least I have an equally capable criminal protecting me.

"Who are you? Who sent you? An organized crime boss? Are you taking me to him now?"

"No, if there is a boss around here, it's me," Nick chuckles. "And I'm taking you home."

"What do you mean that I might enjoy it?" I finally say as the minutes drift by. I glance at his crotch and wonder if he meant to "enjoy" me once we got back to his lair.

"You're a chemist, aren't you?" Nick says and rubs his chin. "I have some chemistry you can help me with."

"And chemistry is a criminal euphemism for?" I ask, my voice growing increasingly desperate. "For sex slavery? For torture? Are you going to use me as a drug mule?"

"No, no, stop flattering yourself. There are plenty of other girls I could have snatched for that. Ones I wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of crashing a wedding in midtown for." Nick sighs and rolls his eyes. He reaches over me and opens up his glove compartment. A sandwich bag of pale blue pills falls out onto my lap.

"What is this?"

"Fentanyl."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Your fiancé, Kevin, used your ID to steal equipment from your lab to synthesize street fentanyl. That's why he kept his waitress girlfriend on the down-low and led you to believe he wanted to marry you."

"How do you know all this?"

"He was working for my business competitors. When business went sour, as it inevitably does in this line of work, they put a hit out on him. My men have been trailing him for days. This morning, I came here looking for him, not to kill him but to negotiate with him."

"Really? You brought all those guns to have a nice chat with him?"

"Or to kill him if he decided he wanted to play hardball. One has to be prepared in this line of work. You know about hard decisions. You were an aspiring doctor, were you not? I heard one of your friends mention you wanted to be a trauma surgeon?"

As much as I dread his plans for murdering and dropping my body in the Hudson, I dislike talking about my life before my father died even more. I don't believe for a second that Nick showed up this morning to warn Kevin about the big baddies that were coming to murder the entire Monroe family. Nick is using me to find Kevin or figure out where the drug money went. If he wants me to synthesize drugs for him, he can just put a bullet in my brain right now. I'll never do anything to hurt innocent people, and frankly, I wouldn't even know how to begin to synthesize illegal drugs.

"Why should I believe a word of what you're telling me?"

"You have no other choice, Lyvia."

I don't like the way he says my name and grins like e a hungry panther afterward. I wasn't born yesterday; chemistry isn't the only thing he's interested in.

"Because I am your prisoner now?"

"Yes, now that you've put it that way — we are both trapped in a sort of prison," Nick chuckles like the annoyed look on my face amuses him. "We're married."