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What? What are you going to do, you fool?
Not sure what but something, because after last night when we claimed each other, I now have rights over him, and he no longer can just obsessively stare after me from afar.
Octavius is mine! And I’ll be as territorial as I want with my own husband who forced me into this marriage, but I no longer mind.
I still have a hard time accepting and understanding what he does. My moral compass is miles away from his, but as long as he doesn’t kill innocent people, I think I can live with it.
Maybe I should have a bigger inner conflict and monologue over the whole thing, being terrified and all… I don’t, though. I’ve spent years alone and cold, and for the first time ever, the man who seemed to be the center of my world for the past couple of months makes me feel desired, wanted, and protected.
I’m tired of feeling guilty.
There is so much unsettled between us. The secrets he hides from me that has to do with our past, his past, and all his scars that hurt my soul just thinking about how he got them. However, I won’t let these obstacles stand in the way. We’ve had months to dance around each other, and I don’t think it takes long to fall for a person.
Although, the fact that I’m so accepting of a serial killer as my husband truly paints me in a delusional and idiotic light. Especially after yesterday, when he exposed my body to the sweetest of tortures, claiming ownership over me while leaving endless hickeys on my flesh.
Heat rushes over me at the burning memories, my whole being awakening with desire and a need so strong I barely resist running around this mansion to search for my husband when I know better.
Groaning in frustration, I grab the dress, only to sigh in relief when I see a note with my name attached to it, and while dresses usually aren’t my thing because they never really accentuate my features and just point out how plain I am…this one is pretty.
“You know…about them?” Giselle finally speaks up, worry lacing her tone along with guilt.
“Yes. That’s why he married me. His wife won’t have to testify against him.” I drop the phone on the bed and press on the loudspeaker as I quickly put the dress on. The stretchy fabric molds against my upper body and skirts around my thighs, ending right above my knees. My brow furrows when I spot a small bag and open it up, finding panties and sandals in it. “Thanks for the warning, my best friend,” I tease her because I get it. He’s her husband, and it’s not like you can go around and tell people about their true deeds. Besides, my reaction might have been unpredictable.
Unless you end up in such a situation, it’s hard to understand, and you just assume the woman has lost her mind.
“I told you to stay away from him,” she reminds me. I slip on the panties and sandals, locating the mirror nearby and removing the cloth covering it. My heart squeezes in my chest, thinking of how Octavius detests looking at his reflection so they’re all covered. “I can talk to Callum, and we can fix it.”
Twirling around, I gasp at how the dress showcases my body while my hair falls to my shoulders, and it does little to cover up all the marks on my skin. “We both know it’s useless. Our husbands don’t have the best tempers.” Later, I will examine why saying our husbands out loud brings me so much joy.
“You sound…accepting of the whole thing.” I get out of the room, and once again, the size of Octavius’s wealth astonishes me as it allows him to have a whole-ass house near his mansion to himself. “Do you love him?”
I ignore the last question because how can it even be a question? I wouldn’t know love if it hit me in the face, so whatever. “There is no need to panic. It is what it is.”
My philosophic reply doesn’t fly with her, though.
“It is what it is?” she repeats in disbelief when I go to the terrace door, mesmerized by the magnificent view opening up to me with countless trees swaying lightly under the breeze as the sun beams brightly. “I lost my shit when I found out, and you, the police officer, think it is what it is?”
“Former police officer.” I don’t see myself going back to work anytime in the near future. I never enjoyed it much, and it was just a means to an end. I’m grateful for the profession and all the skills I gained, but it was never my true passion. “If it helps, I lost my shit too, but there isn’t much I can change now, so yeah. It is what it is.”
“I swear to God if Callum didn’t assure me that Octavius is solid and would never hurt you, I’d jump on our private plane and fetch you because you sound brainwashed!”
Unlocking the terrace door, I step outside and sigh at the warmth welcoming my feet. I go to the railing and rest my elbows on it, drinking in the beauty around me while thinking about her words.
Brainwashed? Maybe.
All these discoveries and experiences put a lot of things in perspective, and while I could be hysterical and plot an escape plan, I don’t really see why I have to do that.
I don’t feel sorry for their victims. It’s cruel and not right, I know. I would never be able to kill anyone, just the idea makes me sick.
However, when it comes to them…yeah, I’m fine with it. Why should I feel sorry for all these monsters?
Giselle and I are very different when it comes to many things. Her gentle nature would have had a hard time accepting all of this, but I was always a creature fueled by revenge and dark cravings.
“Isla.” I blink, realizing I must have zoned out on her. “Do you need anything from me?”
I thank my life for giving me an awesome friend. It would’ve been devastating without her in it. “Just be here for me. I’m still processing it all, mainly my emotions, and until I figure them out…I need someone on my side. Okay?”
She reads between the lines well. “I’m always on your side. I’m one phone call away, so if you need anything, just message me, and I’ll be there.”
