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That what he said is gradually becoming a reality so that he’s able to put a claim on me.
Ownership.
Nonetheless, his wishes are futile because in no world do I want anyone to believe that I wanted this. This is because if I’m finally able to kill him, it won’t be that big of a surprise that it was me who plunged the knife into his hollowed heart.
Finn takes a step forward as the priest continues to rattle on. The smell of leather and patchouli fills my nose as his handsome features try to hide the monster inside.
He breaks his gaze from me, glancing over at the priest while I hear him repeat the words of honor and love, through sickness and health, ’till death do us part.
My name is called upon, but I don’t spare a glance at Father.
No, I want to make sure that Finn hears every single promise that leaves my mouth today because I will not be his victim.
I’ll be his demise.
I monotonously repeat words that the Priest guides me to say, but when we get to honor and love, I refuse to say the words.
Why make this worse and lie to the Lord?
I’m already possibly going to hell when I kill the man in front of me that will be considered my husband in the eyes of society and Him.
“Haven?”
I ignore the beckoning call from the priest as I keep my focus locked on Finn, who just lifted a brow at me.
It’s a challenge.
And all bets are off now.
“I promise to hate you,” I say out loud, as confidently as I can, for everyone in the room to hear. “And plan to be your ultimate downfall. I can only hope that you’ll get sick and your health will fail, but we know that fate wouldn’t be so gracious to the devil, so I’ll handle it myself.” A throng of voices begins to buzz in the crowd, but I keep going. “Because Finn O’Clery…I promise, with everything inside me, that I’m going to kill you one day.”
A few feminine gasps fill the room, but I’m too hypnotized by my soon-to-be husband’s smirk that I don’t dare look around the room.
Finn takes another small step forward, almost brushing his chest with mine as I clench my fingers together against the stems of my flowers.
No signs of anger or exasperation fill his features as he towers over me with his wide shoulders and chest.
Leaning in, I smell him deeper with the closeness of his proximity when he says in front of everyone, “Not unless I kill you first.”
17
HAVEN
“Eat.”
I want to take my fork and shove it into Finn’s eye, but I lock my jaw instead through his order.
A room full of high-ranked men from the mafia isn’t going to take too kindly to the heir of the O’Clery clan bleeding on his wedding day.
It’s only a reminder of how alone I am again.
Stabbing my venison, that’s all I do.
I’m not hungry; all I want to do is go back to my room to where Finn can celebrate his win on his own.
However, instead, he wants to keep me at his side like a trophy.
“That requires it to make it to your mouth,” Finn grumbles, and the idea of spearing him again makes the forefront of my mind.
