ISABELLA

      My stomach was in knots. I knew this day would come eventually but to actually be at the church staring at the immaculately arranged flowers and my beautifully dressed bridesmaids made it real somehow. My mother stared down at me in pity as I played with the heavy fancy yellow diamond that weighed down the fourth finger of my left hand. She placed her hands over my agitated pair before raising my face so my blue eyes connected with her icy gray orbs.

      "Breathe baby," she ordered. I did as she demanded while she grabbed the radiant cut diamond earrings my father had purchased to get back on my good side. "He may not be the one you love today but you'll grow to love him in time and he'll keep you in the lifestyle you've grown accustomed to," she spoke in a soothing tone as she placed the backing of the heavy studs securely behind my ears.

      "I'm only seventeen years old ma," I reminded her with glassy eyes. Luckily the make up artist that my mother hired used waterproof cosmetics or I'd be a hot mess right about now. "I'm not ready for this. I don't want to be someone's wife or become some child's mother. Have you all forgotten that, technically, I'm still a child?"

      "I know baby and believe me I tried to talk reason into your father but he's adamant about this. He wants this and so does Henri Deveraux. You and Omari really don't have a choice in the matter," my mother replied before gently coaxing me out of my seat and leading me into the room where my wedding gown was waiting.

      She helped me into the strapless cream colored satin gown whose bodice was enhanced with carefully selected canary diamonds. Truly the gown was a work of art and was to be apart of Ines Di Santo's fall line as a fantasy piece but my parents had pulled a few strings to get it in time for the wedding. My mother slipped each princess cut fancy yellow diamond through the slit of each button before handing me the hem of my dress so that she could fasten the Renee Caovilla sandals that had been designed specifically for this garment securely around my ankle. Once I was dressed and veil had been pinned into my hair, my mother led me over to the floor length mirror and smiled at my reflection. A tear fell from her eyes as she said, "You make a beautiful bride."

      "Thank you," I told her although, at that very moment, I wanted nothing more than to kick and scream the loudest protest against my impending marriage.

      "Something new," she spoke lightly as she fingered the earrings she'd pinned through my ears moments earlier, "and something borrowed," she stated with an indulgent smile as she opened a large velvet jewelry box to produce one of the largest (and most beautiful) diamond drop necklaces I'd ever seen.

      "It's time," my father called as my mothered fastened the yellow diamond necklace securely around my neck.

      My mother gave me an air kiss as to not transfer her lipstick onto me before heading to the front of the church to take her seat. Four hundred people that I didn't know had shown up to see me marry a man I'd only spoken to twice. Everyone assumed that my life was perfect; that I was just another spoiled little rich girl with the world at her finger tips. If they could only see me now. Carmine Arcieri was thought to be the perfect father and husband but my perfect father had basically sold me off for a business deal he'd been salivating over for the better part of four years. I didn't turn eighteen for another two months and had no say whatsoever in what was to happen to me. Even if I was legal I'd probably end up in the same damn position.

      College was always a step I planned on taking for my future but my father let me know that if I didn't agree to marry Omari that he'd cut me off financially, which would make getting a higher education damn near impossible without leaving school with several thousand dollars of debt. My family made too much money for me to get financial aid leaving me with having loans as my only option. Four years undergraduate at any university I'd applied to would set me back a hundred grand and I couldn't do it. There was no way to come up with that much money in only a year, especially since my father kept a close eye on what I spent and where. Believe me, I checked out all my options and I had no choice. In less than two hours I, Isabella Marie Arcieri, would be but a memory and instead I would be Mrs. Omari Julian Deveraux.

      "You can do this Is," my best friend Paula said as she handed me a bouquet arranged with yellow and white roses with white calla lilies rested sporadically within. "Besides Omari is a cutie."

      I gave her a small smile and moved my engagement ring to my right hand as the violin's started playing. She threw me an encouraging look before joining with Omari's best man on their trip down the isle. Shortly thereafter the flower girls walked out and tossed yellow and white rose petals on the ground.

OMARI

      I stood at the front of the church dressed in my white Armani tux to the left of the preacher as I waited for my future wife to walk down the aisle. Had anyone asked me a year ago if I thought I'd be getting married at twenty-four, I would have told them hell no and to get the fuck out my face for even suggesting such a thing. Yet here I was in a church surrounded by family, current and soon to be, and their business associates with full intentions of turning some teenage girl into my wife. Life is crazy as hell.

      Dreux patted me on the shoulder once he stood at his place behind me. I gave him a nod as the violins stopped the soothing melody it had been playing and transformed into the wedding march. Carmine walked down the aisle with Isabella at his side and she looked like a princess. The only person that might have surpassed her was my mother, and that was a huge compliment because my mother was, is, a princess of some African nation so her wedding with my father was definitely one for the record books.

ISABELLA

      My father walked me towards the front, or back of the church depending on how you look at it, and placed my right hand on Omari's left. As much as I hated to admit it, Omari was looking damn good in his tux. Come to think of it, so did his best man. I blanked out as the priest began speaking and my mind wandered off. I was seriously getting married. As a child I'd, of course, thought about my wedding day, what I would wear and the type of man I wanted to marry. This situation wasn't quite how I'd pictured it to be.

      I was shaken out of my reverie when the preacher asked, "Do you, Omari Julian Deveraux, take Isabella Marie Arcieri as your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold? For richer or poorer? In sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?"

      "I do," Omari replied as he slid the wedding band on my left ring finger.

      "And do you, Isabella Marie Arcieri, take Omari Julian Deveraux as you lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, and in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?" he asked.

      I stared at Omari and glanced back at my father who nodded his head forcefully before taking another breath and responding to the asked question, "I...I do," and slid the slightly bigger matching band on Omari's left ring finger.

      "Then with the power vested in me by the state of New York I now name you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," the preacher spoke to Omari and me.

      Omari turned towards me and his eyes asked me for permission before he leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips. We jumped the broom and lit the unity candles before we walked out of the door as people threw white rose petals on us. A white Rolls Royce Phantom was waiting for us outside and we slid in the back seat before the driver closed the door behind us and drove the distance to Cipriani's where the reception was taking place.

      "Are you okay?" Omari asked me.

      "I can't believe I'm married," I told him simply.

      "Neither can I," he replied honestly. "I didn't picture my getting married would be because my father wanted a guarantee before merging his company."

      "And now we're stuck with each for, at least, the next six years," I told him.

OMARI

      "This isn't the ideal situation for either of us but you do know that I'd take care of you right?" I asked her. At this moment she looked vulnerable and every bit of her seventeen years. Young girls didn't do it for me; I liked them mature with brick house bodies.

      She glanced at me with her beautiful bluish green hued eyes before saying, "I'm assuming I'm to live with you now so where exactly do you call home? It isn't Louisiana or Georgia is it?"

      "No, my parent's relocated to Georgia after Katrina but I guess you can say I live in Miami and Vegas since I'm usually in one place or the other. Florida is where I'm at most of the time though," I answered.

      "Then I guess I'll be heading to the University of Miami this fall," she replied with a sigh before looking out the window.

      "I don't want to stop your plans Isabella. If there's somewhere else you'd rather attend, then by all means go," I offered because at the end of the day she had to live her life for her. As long as she didn't embarrass the hell out of me she could do her. She had plans before me, just as I had plans before her.

      She sighed and stared out the window before saying, "I enjoy South Beach besides we have to get to know each other and with you working it'd be damn near impossible if I went away for ten months out of the year."

      I nodded and stared out the window as the driver maneuvered through the crowded streets of Manhattan. "Omari?"

      "Yes?"

      "About tonight," she started.

      "What about it?" I asked her.

      "I'm still...I mean I've never-are we supposed to do things tonight?" she asked.

      "What?" I asked her confused.

      Her light brown complexion flushed red as she tried to clarify herself. "We aren't going to be intimate tonight are we?"

      I smirked. How cute. "No. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

      She exhaled deeply as the car stopped at the front entrance of the Italian restaurant. "Let's do this," she replied as she plastered a smile on her face and waited for the driver to open our door.