Chapter 3 Scandalous Photos at the Wedding

Dorian’s POV

"Evelyn," I drawled into the phone, kicking back in my leather chair with a lazy grin. "I’ve got something special coming your way. A little wedding gift from me to you."

I smirked, imagining her face when she opened the box with that skimpy bunny outfit. She’d hate it, and that was the whole point.

"You can’t be serious," she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "There’s no way I’m wearing that… thing under my wedding dress!"

"Oh, come on now," I teased, leaning forward like we were old pals. "A fancy OB-GYN at Mercy West, blushing over a little costume? I thought you’d be over that by now. It’s not like I’m asking you to wear it in the delivery room."

"You bastard—" she started, but her dad’s voice cut her off like a thunderclap.

"Evelyn! Watch your mouth!" Richard Ashford barked, sounding ready to drag her back to her room.

Then her mom, Catherine, chimed in, shrill as a smoke alarm. "Put it on right now, Evelyn! Do you want to ruin everything we’ve worked for? This wedding’s happening, like it or not!"

I twirled the phone cord around my finger, biting back a laugh. Her own parents were practically begging her to play my game. I could see her now—clutching that ridiculous outfit, steaming mad with no way out. "Don’t let me down, Evie," I purred before hanging up. "See you at the altar."

When I strutted into the wedding venue, I wasn’t ready for what I saw. Evelyn actually wore it. That damn bunny outfit—under her wedding dress, no less. The white gown hugged her like a second skin, black lace flashing through the fabric, and her honey-brown hair spilled over her shoulders. That tight bodice? It was messing with my head in ways I didn’t sign up for.

My mom, Victoria, spotted her first and flipped. "Evelyn! Why in God’s name are you dressed like that?" she yelled, loud enough to hush the crowd.

Evelyn didn’t blink, just stood there, chin high, while the guests snickered. I should’ve been gloating—mission accomplished—but my eyes kept sliding to her waist, those hips, the way her chest strained against the dress. I swallowed hard, pissed at myself for even noticing.

I stepped close, dropping my voice. "Last chance to run, darling. You don’t want this, and neither do I. Say it, and we’re out."

She didn’t budge. Instead, she flung her arms around my neck, pulling me in so fast I nearly tripped. Her body—soft, warm, too damn close—pressed against mine as she snatched the mic from the officiant.

"I love my husband so much," she crooned, voice dripping with fake tears. "I’d wear anything he wants, even if people judge. His… special tastes, his little quirks—they’re part of him, and I adore him for it."

The crowd lapped it up, but I caught her friend Riley Adams grinning like she’d hit the jackpot. "Now that’s true romance!" Riley shouted, clapping like she was front row at a chick flick. She darted up to Evelyn, whispering something with a smirk. Evelyn nodded, all innocent, and my gut churned. What were they up to?

The guests’ whispers turned sappy, like we were some fairy-tale couple. I saw Riley slip something into Evelyn’s hand—a glint of metal?—and my nerves twitched. But then she shifted, and that dress… God, it showed off everything. The lace teased me with every move, and my head went places it shouldn’t. I imagined pinning her against a wall, yanking up that gown to see the bunny costume underneath. She’d fight—I could tell—but I wanted to break her down, feel her give in.

"Earth to groom," she said, snapping me out of it. "You’re staring."

I tugged my jacket down, hiding how much she was getting to me. "Time for the rings," I muttered, grabbing her hand. "Let’s move this along."

Then the LED screen behind us flared up. My blood froze. There I was, in this suit, arms around two half-dressed blondes at the Midnight Lounge. Timestamp? Earlier today. Today.

"What the hell—" I choked out, spinning to face the screen. The crowd gasped, murmurs ripping through the room like a tidal wave. My heart slammed against my ribs—this wasn’t part of the plan. I was supposed to be the one humiliating her, not standing here like some caught-out idiot.

Evelyn’s eyes widened for a split second, then narrowed with a gleam I didn’t like. "Well, well," she said, loud enough for the front row to hear. "Looks like you’ve been busy today, darling." Her voice was all honey, but the edge in it cut deep.

I forced a laugh, turning to the guests with a smirk. "Relax, everyone. Just a little bachelor party fun—nothing to lose sleep over. Right, Evelyn?" I shot her a look, daring her to push me.

She crossed her arms, smirking right back. "Oh, I’m not worried. I’m just impressed you found time between the tux fitting and the vows." The crowd tittered, and my jaw clenched.

I had to flip this. "Funny you’re so smug," I said, stepping closer. "Let’s talk about that doctor you were cozy with last year—think your parents want the details?" It was a wild guess, but her flinch told me I’d hit something.

Her smile faltered, then hardened. "Go ahead, Dorian. Dig all you want. I’ve got nothing to hide—unlike you."

My mom stormed forward, cutting through the tension. "Those pictures are fake!" she screeched, waving at the screen. "Photoshopped by some jealous nobody! Don’t you believe this trash!" No one argued—our money shuts people up fast—but I could feel the heat rising.

"You think this is a win?" I hissed at Evelyn, close enough to see the fire in her eyes. "You’ve got no idea what you’ve started."

She leaned in, voice low and taunting. "Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing. You’re the one scrambling now. Thanks for the bunny outfit—it made this so much sweeter."

"Riley’s behind this, isn’t she?" I snapped, glancing at her friend, who waved with a grin.

"Teamwork makes the dream work!" Riley called out, earning a few nervous laughs.

Evelyn’s smugness was unbearable. "You’re proud of this?" I said, my voice rising. "Dragging my name through the mud in front of everyone?"

"Proud?" she shot back, stepping closer. "I’m ecstatic. You wanted to make me a joke? Look who’s laughing now."

The crowd’s whispers grew louder, the air crackling with tension. My fists balled up, fury simmering. "Keep pushing, Evelyn. You’ll regret it."

"Try me," she said, her chin lifting defiantly.

Before I could say more, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I yanked it out, glancing at the screen—a text from an unknown number: “Check your jacket pocket.” Frowning, I slid my hand into my coat—and pulled out a tiny, lace-trimmed garter, identical to the one under Evelyn’s dress. Attached was a note: “Caught you both. Smile for the cameras.”

Evelyn’s eyes locked on it, her face paling. "What the hell is that?" she demanded, her voice cracking for the first time.

I held it up, my smirk returning. "Looks like someone’s watching us, darling."