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CHAPTER4
Kane
I'm not sure what I make of Elena Adams. I knew what to expect looks-wise. I'd seen photographs, but that fiery personality is something I'm going to have to expel. I don't like to be questioned or challenged, and I get the impression she will do both. I follow my mother and Hamish Adams out of the main hall and into a small office. I sense Elena at my back, but I don't turn to her, or even offer her my arm. I just want this shit over with quickly.
My mother takes a seat in front of the desk. It's large, oak most likely, highly polished, and expensive-looking. It is clear Hamish is a man with tastes that run into the thousands. Even looking at his daughter, I can see that. I don't know the first thing about dresses, but I can tell the material she's wearing must have cost a small fortune. Luke stands by the door while Charlotte and I take a seat in front of the desk. Standing behind the desk is a man I don't recognise. I surmise he must be here to fill in all the documentation we need to enable us to get married.
Elena slips into the room, not giving me her eyes, and I can see the anger burning through her as she takes her own chair. I pissed her off. She'll find I do that a lot.
I barely focus on Hamish and my mother, nor what the official is saying to me. Instead, I keep my attention locked on my bride to be. Elena is pretty. I can't deny that. She has flaming red hair that I'm beginning to see matches her temper. I can see the way she is sitting with her hands curled into fists, as if she's thinking about punching me in the face. I would deserve it. I have been a bastard tonight, and I have only spoken to her for a few moments.
As if she can sense me watching her, Elena's eyes slide towards me. I meet her gaze head on. Without fear or care. She is nothing to me. A means to an end. A bargaining chip to help smooth the path for my family to gain more power.
So why had I freaked out when Hamish grabbed her the way he did?
Fury had built in my veins, threatening to overwhelm me. The possessive wave that had come over me was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I wanted to rip Hamish's head off. He hurt her. I could see it at the time, and it's clear now by the red ring of finger marks around her wrist. For better or worse, she is mine to protect, even if that means from her own family. I meant what I said to her. No one will ever touch her again unless I command it.
She is mine, whether I want her or not. I take that seriously. Not because I want her, or feel for her, because I'm not sure I'm capable of either, but because she carries the Fraser name, and it would reflect badly if a Fraser was to be harmed.
She glances away, finally unable to take my stare any longer. I should like that she's not a pushover, is not meek and pathetic, but perhaps that would have been preferable. I have no desire to spend my days butting heads with my wife. Nor will I. She will be pliable, or I will bend her to my will. However I have to do that.
A document is shoved under my nose, and the man who has been officiating over the proceedings hands me a pen. “You need to sign to say the information is true.” I glance down and see my name written at the top of the document. There is information about my parents and their job roles. I sign my name where I'm told and watch as he puts the paper in front of Elena. She hesitates for so long I wonder if she's going to say no to this marriage. I would respect that more than she knows, but like me, she is a pawn to her family's desires. We will both do what is expected.
“Elena!” Hamish barks her name, and that seems to spurn her into action. She doesn’t read the document; she just scrawls her signature and hands it back.
I watch as she closes her eyes, as if she can barely keep herself together. I don't blame her. I am not the man you marry. I am the man you slay in the dark to prevent me from eating your soul. I have no doubt I will eventually eat this woman up and spit her remains back out, because that is the kind of man I am. I don't have the capacity for love, for affection; any of the myriad of things that exist to make a marriage work. I've never been loved a day in my life, other than by my siblings, so how could I give that to somebody else?
“The ring, Kane.” At my mother's urging, I reach into my suit jacket pocket and pull out a velvet-covered ring box.
Perhaps there should be some kind of ceremony, some kind of elaborate moment between us, but I simply open the box and thrust it in Elena's direction. She peers down at the large diamond ring. I have no idea how much it cost, since it was Charlotte who picked it out. It doesn't matter though. Money is no object.
Elena looks as if she's debating not taking it. I wouldn't blame her. Who wants to be tied to someone like me? After a moment, she reaches into the box and pulls the ring free of the cushion.
“Kane, help her put it on.” I resist the urge to tell my mother to fuck off, instead reaching for Elena's hand. She feels soft, delicate even, but the heat in her eyes tells me she's neither. She's a wildcat, with claws and teeth that she would use to rip me apart given the chance. I flick my gaze up to hers, and I see her fear, her reluctance. She tries to hide it, but I have a knack for pulling these things out of people.
Without a word, I slip the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly, not that I expected any different. My mother will have thought of every little detail. I stare at that ring, an invisible ball and chain between us.Until death do us part.That part of the vow is something my family takes seriously. We don't divorce in the Fraser family. For better or worse, Elena is mine for the rest of our days.
I let go of her hand, a pain settling in my chest. I'm not ready for this. I should be. I am twenty-seven. A man. Marriage is a necessity to continue our family legacy. It is not enough to marry Elena; I must also have children with her. The thought unsettles me in a way I can't describe.
Charlotte claps her hands together, as if we are celebrating the most amazing moment in our lives. “That's the first step, darlings.” She turns to my wife-to-be, a smile splitting her face. “Welcome to the family, Elena. I know you will be wonderful for my son.” There is an unspoken threat behind her words that I hear clearly. You will be wonderful, or we will make it so. Clearly Elena hears the same because she stiffens in her chair.
“Thank you for such a warm welcome.” There is a slight bite to her words that has her father scowling at her. I have to admit, I'm impressed by her. She has seen through Charlotte's bullshit. There are not many who have that ability. At least not until it is too late. Charlotte is as much a monster in the dark as I am; she just hides behind high heels and expensive suits. She is the Lady Macbeth, meddling in things she shouldn't get involved in.
Like my marriage.
I like that Elena is savvy. She won't be easy to manipulate. None of my brothers’ wives are, something I'm sure pisses Charlotte off. She's used to being the matriarch of our family and loved having the control. That has changed since each of us has gotten married, and I assume it will be the same when I say my vows too.
Elena turns to me, and I see her face soften slightly. “Thank you for the ring. It really is beautiful.”
It's an olive branch. I recognise her attempts to smooth things between us instantly. I should take the offer of peace, but my mouth moves before my brain engages. “I didn't pick it.”
Elena's mouth opens and closes as she searches for the words that don't come. Eventually, she tucks her hands between her thighs, hiding the ring from sight. My mother gives me a dark look, one that says I should have kept my mouth shut. Maybe I should have, but I'm not a man who lies unless it's to my own advantage, and there was no advantage to be made from telling lies to a woman who's going to share my life. I have to be true to who I am, and what I am. I'm not someone who panders or fabricates stories to make someone feel better.
“Are we done here?” Elena asks. There's a little tetchiness in her words.
I should say something, alleviate her concerns, but I sit there in silence, allowing the chasm between us to grow bigger than it already is.
My mother is quicker to respond. “Aren't you going to stay for the party?”
