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“He stayed with his guests. I am sure there are lots of people that want to offer their congratulations or…” I bite my lip hard to keep from laughing. “Condolences to the groom.”
“Yes… ma’am.” They are too well trained and polite to call me out on my crazy and instead lead the way into my new home with blank expressions. Great, not even ten minutes in my new home and the staff already think I’m insane.Great going Stella, you will need allies here, try playing nice for once in your miserable entitled life.
I step forward into the grand foyer only to be accosted with oil paintings of past generations of Stratford’s and a silver knight uniform on display. The foyer floors are all black and white marble with inlaid details that meet a dark sprawling wood staircase which leads to the second-floor landing and a large embankment of windows. The multiple crystal chandeliers give off prisms of light across the champagne-colored wallpaper and all the deeply rich toned brocade and velvet upholstery.
Great, we are living in the middle ages instead of the end of the 20th century. I roll my eyes at all the pretentiousness of wealth on display and turn my attention back to Fergus and Mrs. Pox. I guess redecorating will be one of my very first tasks as lady of the shitty manor.
“Mrs. Pox, if it wouldn’t be a great inconvenience, may I have a pot of tea and some assistance removing this dress?”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course. I will put the kettle on right away. Your belongings have arrived and I have taken the liberty of hanging most of your clothing in the master suite. Fergus will show you and I will be up shortly with the tea to assist you.” She turns as if her backside is on fire and rushes down the hallway in the direction of what I’m guessing is the kitchen.
A deep sigh leaves me and I turn my attention back to a waiting Fergus and indicate with my arm that he should precede me on the stairs. The man must be in his mid to late sixties, there is no way I am risking taking him down that flight of stairs if I fall with this dress on. He gives me a look of displeasure but turns and walks up the stairs. “The master suite is in the east wing, ma’am. The west wing holds all of the guest suites.” I admire all of the beautiful priceless art on display and the exquisite artifacts that should adorn a museum but are instead here in the private home of a tyrant.I wonder how angry I could make him if I donated them all to charity?
All of this is now as much mine as it is Jaxon’s. My cunning father insisted there be no prenup, both of our vast wealth to be amalgamated into one entity, therefore ensuring the survival of the Penticton’s and the Stratford’s. Too bad I mean to end it all and ensure that the only one who survives is me.
We reach the large double doors of the master suite and I get my first glimpse of the space. A large dark wood canopy bed meets my gaze, decorated lavishly with creamy white linens and rich navy accents. I wonder how many of my female acquaintances have been draped across that thing? Disgust curls my lip as I look away. Large windows allow natural light into the space and there is a beautifully furnished sitting area with a chaise for reading or lounging. I walk further into the space and push open two double doors, which lead to a massive walk-in closet.
The space is divided into his and hers and I can see that Mrs. Pox did indeed put away my belongings across from Jaxon’s fine Italian wool suits. The space smells like him, a mix of citrus, musk, and spices. I breathe in the scent and rather than agitating me, it helps to calm me and bolster my confidence.
I leave the room and walk directly across the hall into a large ensuite bathroom with a massive glass and marble enclosed shower, huge sunken tub, and his and her pedestal sinks. Everything in the space is white and gray marble with touches of navy accents. It’s beautiful and I can picture myself spending some luxurious time in that tub.That is after I dispose of my wretched husband.
I re-enter the master bedroom area, just as Mrs. Pox is walking into the space with a tray filled with tea and pretty little cookies. I give her a small smile and reach for one of the cookies. Taking a quick bite, a moan leaves my lips.Oh my god, the cookie melts in my mouth.Maybe living here won’t be so bad if Mrs. Pox keeps supplying me with cookies! Can one have an orgasm from a baked good? I watch as she sets everything down on the coffee table in the sitting area and moves back in my direction. She nods her head at Fergus to leave and motions with her finger for me to turn around.
Before I can do that, a wicked thought on how to further mess with Jaxon enters my mind. I bet the fucker thinks he’s going to have his wedding night and pillage the blushing bride.I would rather slit my own throat than allow that man inside of me.
“Fergus, wait. You mentioned that there are other suites in the west wing?” I raise an eyebrow and a smirk makes its way to my lips as he eyes me questioningly.
“Yes ma’am. There are six suites on the other side.” He stands there completely confused at my question. I catch Mrs. Pox’s eye and notice that she’s trying to suppress a smile. It looks like she and I may end up understanding ourselves perfectly. Maybe we can be allies. It would be lovely to not have to watch my back the whole time I am here.
“Fergus, as quickly as you can, please have Mr. Stratford’s clothing and personal belongings moved to the largest of the suites in the west wing.” His bushy gray eyebrows meet his hairline at my words and his mouth goes slack. “If there is no one else that can assist you to complete the task quickly, I will change, and Mrs. Pox and I will help. I would like it completed before Jaxon returns home.”
I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down, and his mouth opens and closes, then he seems to shake himself. “Yes Mrs. Stratford, right away. I will get the two maids to help me while you are changing.” He quickly leaves the room and a snort escapes Mrs. Pox. “Oh deary, I hope you know what you are doing. Jaxon tends to have a hellish temper.” She motions to the ensuite bath and I follow her in after grabbing clothing from the closet to change into.
“I’m not worried Mrs. Pox, he needs me too much to really do me any harm. He can rant all he wants, he asked for this reckoning.” We quickly make work of removing my dress, veil and crown and I slip into a pair of blue jeans and an off the shoulder cashmere sweater.
We re-enter the room to the bustle of Fergus and two maids quickly removing Jaxon’s items out of my new space. I hope he enjoys being the master of nothing. He’s about to learn that the queen is the most important piece of the board and kings just don’t hold the same power.
4
Jaxon
“On wrongs swift vengeance waits.” Alexander Pope
I’mlividandmyface hurts from all the fake smiling I have had to do all day. Once Stella dramatically snubbed me at the church and disappeared with my damn limo, I had to commence damage control. I can’t allow these wealthy families around me to believe that my…wife, god I hate that word. My wife can walk all over me.
Stella has no idea the rage she has awoken in me, but she’s about to find out when I get home. The only thing that is giving me a measure of calm is the knowledge that my little ice queen will be paying me back every slight and insult on her knees.
I had to hitch a ride with my new in-laws to my wedding reception lunch, as if the humiliation of being left standing at the damn altar holding my wife’s flowers wasn’t enough. Stella’s mother, Rachel, tried unsuccessfully to start a conversation in their limo, but I barely uttered two words. My thoughts solely on my ice queen and what I am going to do with her spiteful ass when I next see her. The picture of me spanking her with my full palm over and over until her ass is red and her cunt is dripping while a ball gag is wrapped around her face, races through my mind and gives me a semi right at the most unfortunate of times.
Thomas Penticton was unusually quiet in the vehicle. The man likes to boast about his business conquests at length, but other than to agree that the priest did a splendid job, he hadn’t uttered another word.Thank fuck for that.He did however stare at me with rancor and displeasure the whole way to the country club. Maybe he was regretting his choice of grooms after all. Regardless, there is no way back for any of us now.We are one miserable wealthy family now.
The country club was just another horrendous and humiliating affair to endure.How does one have a wedding lunch without a damn bride?Her parents made a toast to the beautiful missing bride, much to mine and everyone’s amusement. I will be on every gossip newspaper across the country by morning and all because my little hellion of a wife was displeased with the hand fate played her.
She went through with the ceremony and for that I am grateful, even though I will never admit it to her. There were a few moments there when I thought that for sure she would deny me or better yet slap me. But she didn’t and if I’m honest with myself, that has me worried. Stella doesn’t seem the type to roll over for anyone. Case in point, leaving me at the altar after completing our vows. She’s a planner just like I am. A planner with access to an unlimited fortune and massive amounts of power now that she carries the Stratford name.
I have no doubt that we are about to go on a rollercoaster ride of trying to punish and tame each other. The thought alone of how I will bring her to heel has my cock hardening in my tuxedo pants, which is unfortunate as the company around me won’t appreciate the desire for my new wife. Maybe I can warm up that frigid temperature inside of her, melt some of that ice so my cock doesn’t end up with frostbite.
I tune back into what Ajax, Thomas Penticton, Fisher St. John, Jeffrey Cain and River Stanton are discussing. The discussion centering around buying up low-income housing in the south and revitalizing it into condos for the rich and wealthy.Fools, the lot of them.Don’t they realize the housing market is about to crash? How about the fact that they will have to deal with the local gangs?
