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So this is where she lives,I mused.
Lived,I corrected myself. Her home was now with me.
The place was simple for a woman her age, with only a small picturesque painting—a cabin bordered by the woods with a mountain in the distance—adorning the beige walls of her living room. I moved around the place, studying it for traces of her interests and the kind of person she was. The thought of family life intruded once more, and a newfound sense of determination settled within me.
Her living room was a reflection of her personality—warm and inviting. The coffee table was strewn with books, showcasing her intellectual side. Books filled a major portion of her apartment, I noted. Her room especially had piles of novels stacked neatly on top of each other. The photographs of Audreyand her friends sat on a table in her room and she had a genuine smile on her face.
She didn't have much. No unnecessary luxury items or furniture. I imagined she must've spent a large portion of what she used to earn on books. I wanted to see the place alone before the men came in. I wanted to understand her.
“Hey, Anton,” I called my ever-ready friend.
“Yes, boss.”
“Send Daniel and his boys over. Let's clear out the place.”
"Immediately, Boss." I hung up. I sank into her couch and lit a cigarette. My eyes wandered around the room until it finally fell on the painting of the cabin. As I contemplated the painting, Daniel and his team finally arrived and I told them what to do, along with the way to pack and arrange everything.
"Make sure you handle every single thing here, especially the books, with care."
"Yes, Boss," they all roared. I strode outside, looked around the quaint neighborhood Audrey had situated herself in, and then got into the car.
***
Back home, she was still asleep. Apart from getting knocked out, she must’ve been exhausted if she was still asleep. I sat there for a while and just admired her beauty. After the visit to her apartment, I felt I got to know her a tiny bit and I am even more attracted to her now. It was quite overwhelming. I wanted to smoke badly to drown the tension that coursed through me.
Instead, I got into the bathroom and washed my face. I left the door ajar in case she stirred from her sleep. I watched my face in the mirror and for a second, the cruel face of my father flashed before my eyes. I wasn't going to end like him, was I?
I heard a sharp gasp come from the bedroom and I could tell right away she was up.
At fucking last.It was time to put up a grand act. I wasn't just going to make her a wife, I was determined to make her a lover, to make her fall in love with me. The game was on.
"Well, Audrey, these are all your things from your apartment," I told her coolly, "Since you'll be living here now, there's no need for your things to be back there, wouldn't you agree?" I uncrossed my arms and leaned forward.
"I-I think you're taking things too fast," she spoke up.
Is she breaking out of her shell?
"First, you kidnap me, then you tell me I have to marry you, and now you broke into my apartment and cleared out my things. I never said I wanted any of this," her innocent brown eyes finally met mine. Only this time, there was a subtle hint of defiance, a growing fierce spirit.
I sauntered toward her and brushed her hair with my hand before cupping her face gently and drawing in close for a kiss. I paused before our lips met—then walked away with a sly smile on my face. Audrey, however, remained transfixed in confusion. From her expression, I suddenly realized there was something pleasurable in teasing her, a dark joy, especially coupled with the untainted aura she had about her.
I grabbed her left hand and before she could react, I slipped a diamond engagement ring on her finger.
Chapter 12 - Audrey
I held my left hand up to the ceiling. For the love of me, I couldn’t wrap my head around everything that happened from the moment I left that club.
I had a diamond glittering brilliantly on my finger. I remembered a show I had seen when I was in college—Claire was actually the one who made me see it since I always kept to books and never watched movies—and the protagonist knelt down and proposed to the girl on an exotic island. The ring had been a diamond ring and back then, I had scoffed at the idea, wondering what it was that made any particular ring special. Now with this ring on my finger, I could see why it entranced people. I knew I sounded superficial, but I could feel it as well. Besides, my emotions were all over the place, so I allowed myself this moment.
Obviously, Ivan wasn't one for romantic settings like the protagonist of that movie. He decided we were getting married and the next thing I knew, I had this beauty on my finger. It was Machiavellian. Just like Ivan is, apparently.
I didn’t get a chance to stop and think, plot my next move before I found myself in yet another whim of Ivan’s.
There was a knock on the day and I opened to see the head maid of the house there.
“Ma’am,” the elderly woman addressed me. Her accent was peculiar; it was the first time I had heard it. With the calculated way she spoke and the general air around her, she seemed almost mechanical and it was unsettling.
“The master would like to see you in the living room,” the woman continued, giving a faux smile as she spoke. She looked at the silk nightgown I was still wearing with a disapproval commonly found among adults who observe the behaviors of youths with contempt.
