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I try not to tremble as I stop and stand in front of him, attempting to compose myself for what’s about to come next—exchanging vows, signing documents and entering into an eternity of what could only be described as modern-day slavery—but no matter how hard I try, I can’t help feeling utterly terrified.
The priest begins reciting from theBible. Though my mouth moves mechanically in time with his words, I can’t take in any of it.
Until I hear him murmur, “You may now kiss the bride.”
The force of Isiah’s kiss stuns me, twisting my insides with dread and humiliation. He kisses me long and hard, like a warning—I belong to him now.
It’s embarrassing the way he’s kissing me in front of hundreds of guests, all eager witnesses to a union that only one of us wanted. But no one cares. This is how it’s done in the mafia and always will be.
Finally, the kiss ends and Isiah grabs my hand to lead me away from the altar. Despite his tight grip on my fingers, I feel an inexplicable sense of relief—this ordeal is finally over.
As we make our way out of the church and into a limo waiting outside to take us to the reception, I can feel Nina’s gaze on me. She smiles softly, giving me one final hug before I get into the car.
I take one last look as the car careens down the dirt road, leaving the darkness of my past and family behind, only to replace it with more.
But I’m still not free—as far as the law and the world are concerned, I’m still Isiah’s.
His hand suddenly slides up my arm, his fingers wrapping around my wrist as he pulls me closer to him. His fingers feel like hot irons on my skin, burning through the thin fabric of the sleeves of my dress.
He looks into my eyes. The ice-blue hue of his are so vibrant and his face is so close that I can feel his breath ghosting over my sensitive skin. Our eyes lock and a smirk curls up his lips as he whispers, “You’re mine forever now, love.”
The words send a chill down my spine, but I remain unmoved. I raise an eyebrow and reply softly yet firmly, “I’ll never be yours in the true sense of the word.”
The smirk remains firmly in place, and it takes all my willpower not to punch it right off of his face. “We will see.”
I shake my head, ignoring the searing anger that tries to tear forth. I won’t engage in any more pointless arguments with this man. He’s impossible. “I will find out why you wanted to marry me, if it’s the last thing I do.” I glare at him then, anger burning like a bonfire in my heart. “And then I’ll stop whatever plan you have against my family dead in its tracks.”
He just smirks at me, totally arrogant. Neither denying nor affirming that there is a plan to stop. “I can’t wait to get you into my bed tonight, love.”
“I’d rather throw myself off a bridge.”
He chuckles. “I highly doubt that.”
Finally, the car comes to a stop outside of the Waldorf Hotel. The same hotel that we’re booked into for the night before flying to the Maldives for our honeymoon. An aspect I begged my father not to force on us, but he and Isiah were having none of it. The idea of being confined to a tiny island with this man makes my skin crawl.
I get out as fast as I can, trying to put distance between me and my husband, but he is too fast. He grabs my wrist when I’m a mere two steps away from the limousine and pulls me to his side. “Where do you think you’re going, wife?”
“Anywhere away from you.”
He almost tenderly pushes the hair away from my face and leans down to whisper in my ear, “There’s no escape now, love.”
The sinister tone of his voice sends tremors through my body. To any onlooker, it would be as if he’s being loving and attentive to his new wife, but that couldn’t be far from the truth.
“I hate you.”
He forces my hand onto his arm. “Stay close and don’t try anything,” he says.
I dig my nails into the fabric, trying to find some way to hurt him, but it’s no use. This man is made of steel and there is no hurting him, at least, not in any way that I’ve discovered yet.
The events hall is packed already with guests who weren’t invited to the ceremony, but have been invited to the party, all of whom are my dad’s friends. Proof that this wedding and party has nothing to do with me or my marriage to Isiah. It’s all about connections and politics and it makes me sick.
Ever since Isiah revealed the shit my dad is into, I can hardly look at my father the same way. He may not be the one physically abusing the children, but he has a hand in kidnapping and selling them for fuck’s sake.
And Isiah doesn’t agree with it. It makes me wonder if that has something to do with his plot against the family, but my instincts tell me it’s just the tip of the iceberg.
“Isiah, congratulations,” a man says, stepping forward.
He smiles, and it’s such a false smile it makes my stomach churn.
