A Vow Of Hate

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by James, Lylah


  “We’ve had this conversation way too many times over the last three weeks and my answer is still the same, Selene.”

  I refused to wear a white veil, for my penance was not over yet. It would last an eternity but wedding or not, I wasn’t going to compromise with my atonement. Salvation came in many ways; absolution was different for every person. But to attain it, sacrifices needed to be made.

  And I was sacrificing my white veil – my perfect wedding – just so I could taste the remnant of mercy on my tongue.

  I gestured for the unopened box lying on the bed. “Bring me the veil I want.”

  “Your father will be disappointed.” It was her last effort to help change my mind and she knew bringing up my father would do just that.

  After the death of Gracelynn, I had done everything my father had asked me to do. I was the perfect daughter and my father’s casualty in his race for more power.

  My gaze locked on Selene’s face without flinching. “I know.”

  “People will talk,” she said.

  “They already do,” I deadpanned.

  “Well, they will talk more. There’s no way your father and the Spencers can quiet the gossips again.”

  “Our lives have turned into a mockery, Selene. A few more gossips won’t hurt and I honestly could care less when I’m about to get married to the man who absolutely loathes my mere existence.”

  “Oh, Julianna.” Her voice softened and there was the pity I had been waiting for. It was there all along.

  Selene was my only friend, and her pity was the one thing I couldn’t bear. I just wanted someone to look at me as Julianna Romano.

  Not to judge, pity or hate.

  Not as the scarred girl, hiding behind her veil.

  Not as Gracelynn’s killer.

  And definitely not as the woman who had ruined Killian’s life.

  I wanted to be Julianna again.

  The girl with a broken heart; the girl who was atoning for her sins; the girl who survived.

  Not the accident. But the girl who survived the gossips, the cruel words, the sneers, the cold eyes, the heartless resentment and her own self-loathing.

  I grasped her hand in mine, admiring the difference between us. Her hand was old, a bit wrinkled. The callouses on her fingertips were proof of a working hand, while mine was pale and smooth. Young and without any experiences.

  I laced my fingers through hers, bringing her hand up and pressing my lips against the back of it. A simple gesture of respect and love. “You work for my father, Selene. But you’re my only friend and companion,” I whispered. “So, please, at least for today… can you just be my friend, instead of following my father’s order? You’re not his puppet, so for once, just take my side?”

  “That’s the thing, Julianna. I’m always on your side. You just don’t see it because you choose to believe everyone is against you.”

  My chest tightened as she walked to the bed and opened the box, revealing the black tulle veil I had ordered, custom-made by my specification. The train ran twelve-feet-long with a lace design and black Swarovski crystals at the end of it.

  I glanced at the mirror as Selene came to stand behind me. Without a word, she carefully pinned the veil at the back of my bun. My long black hair has been perfectly coiffed into curls that fell on either side of my face and a messy bun that looked elegant. An intricate ivory tiara, that had been passed down the Spencer family for over a century, sat atop my head. Once the black veil was in place, Selene pulled the front of it over my face.

  It was the perfect contrast to my wedding dress.

  My white dress was a heavy Ralph Lauren custom-made ball gown. The tulles and lace fabric were covered with over 200,000 Swarovski white crystals. The gown was so heavy, I wondered how I was going to walk down the aisle with it weighing down my body.

  Only the best for a Romano and Spencer wedding, my future father-in-law had said.

  It was gorgeous, fancy and expensive – nothing like my personal preference. I would have chosen something simpler and elegant – definitely less heavy and shiny – if I had had a choice.

  But it was all about the people, the paparazzi, and our image. This wedding had to be out of the ordinary, special and nothing like anyone had ever seen before.

  Bishop Romano was one of the richest men in the United States, except only those closest to him really knew what his business was about.

  He mingled with the richest politicians and businessmen. His support system went wide and far, from polices to doctors and lawyers. What they did behind the scenes and under the tables – well, it was exactly as they portrayed in the movies. My father and the people he surrounded himself were as corrupt as they came.

  William Spencer, Killian’s father – served as the President of the United States twelve years ago, for two consecutive terms. He was the one public figure everyone talked about – both the good and the ugly – but that meant his private life was not so private any longer.

  Killian was expected to run for President – one day, soon enough. It was the only possible outcome as the son of William Spencer. I knew he was working toward it. He had been placing himself into the inner circles of politicians and where it mattered, since he turned twenty years old.

  This marriage was a contract – the perfect alliance between a Romano and a Spencer. The only way the two families could benefit from each other.

  And me? Well, I was collateral damage.

  Selene came to stand in front of me, blocking my reflection and bringing me out of my thoughts. “There you go,” she murmured, her voice coming out choked. She had tears in her eyes. “You look beautiful, Jules.”

  The pain in my chest was back at full force. The taste of misery was bitter on my tongue and shame – its poison – crawled under my flesh.

  I could hear my sister’s voice echoing in my ears. Jules, she’d say. Jules, she’d cry. Jules, she’d laugh.

  “Do you…think she’d ever forgive me?” I whispered, my voice shaking.

  “She already did,” Selene said. “Gracelynn doesn’t hold grudges and especially not against you. You are the one who hasn’t forgiven yourself yet.”

  “And my future husband,” I added.

  Selene huffed. “His opinions don’t count.”

  My lips twitched, even through the tears. “You really do hate him?”

  “He made you cry, my precious girl. Of course I hate him and please, for the love of God, don’t start crying. You’ll mess up your mascara!”

  I let out a teary laugh and then I was pulling Selene down for a hug. “Thank you,” I breathed. “You came into my life when I was five years old. You took care of me and Gracelynn, even though you didn’t have to. Treated us as if we were your own kids.”

  Selene kissed my cheeks. “It was my pleasure, Jules.”

  At ten years old, my life changed in an irrevocable way. I had needed a mother the most and Selene was there, every step of the way, supporting me, encouraging the little girl with a broken heart.

  I swallowed my tears, sniffling. “Can you pass me my pills, please?”

  Selene handed me the small bottle and I popped a pill into my mouth. It had been three months since my last seizure…

  There was no way I could skip my medication. Not when it was the only thing keeping me from enduring another relapse.

  “Help me up?” I asked, grabbing for Selene’s hand.

  With her help, I stood on my two feet, but I wobbled a bit. Sure, I could walk again, but I had a limp and was still unstable. My physiotherapist told me that while I could walk, my legs would always be weak and I’d always walk with a slight limp.

  Running again was not even a possibility. Sometimes, if I were on my feet for too long or walked too fast, my limp was more pronounced.

  Selene fixed my veil, looking as emotional as I felt. The corner of her eyes wrinkled when she blinked, the tip of her nose was red and she sniffled. “As your foster mother, can I give you one last bit of advice?”


  I nodded, feeling the way my throat closed and burned with unshed tears.

  “You’re about to become Julianna Spencer, a wife. While you should always have your own best interest at heart, you’re now also responsible for your new family. Their reputation, their image and their well-being.” Selene paused and she nudged my chin up with her index finger, so my head was held high. “Killian is an asshole, true. But you need to be at your very best, so he’ll never be able to point a finger at you or accuse you of lacking something as a wife or a partner. Because we know damn well, he will dig under your skin, find all your flaws and shred you to pieces until your heart is bleeding at his feet. Don’t allow him to do it. No one should ever use your weaknesses against you.”

  I licked my lips, tasting my shame and swallowing my secrets. Selene didn’t know even half of my story…

  Nobody did, because the only person who knew all my secrets was Gracelynn. And now they were buried with her, staining her grave with my tainted past and the bitterness that came with it.

  No one should ever use your weakness against you.

  Little did she know…

  Killian was my only weakness.

  “And remember, the vows you take are sacred, my precious girl,” she finished.

  Sacred vows, a broken past and a tarnished future.

  Killian and I were bound to break, eventually. No matter the vows we took or the relationship we shared.

  Two hours later, with the help of Selene, I found myself walking down the wide stairs of the castle.

  When William Spencer said this wedding would be nothing short of royalty, I didn’t think he meant a castle. But that was exactly where my wedding was taking place.

  Isle Rosa-Maria came into the Spencer’s possession in 1865. Back then it was named Isle Wingintam. But in 1875, when Marquees Wingintam decided to make the Isle his permanent home, he renamed it Isle Rosa-Maria, just before him and his bride settled here.

  The Spencers were a direct descendent from Marquees Wingintam. So basically, Killian was somewhat royalty. And this Isle and the castle that came with it? They belonged to my future husband.

  When I arrived here yesterday, I barely even had a chance to take a look around what would be my home for the next two weeks. There was no honeymoon, but William specifically told Killian that we were supposed to spend some time alone, as husband and wife.

  Hence, the two weeks on Isle Rosa-Maria.

  Where there was no paparazzi, no gossips and we would have all the privacy we needed.

  Dread filled me at the thought. I could only imagine the cruelty I’d go through at the hands of Killian and there would be no one to help me.

  Not when we were basically locked away from the rest of the world and trapped in, what people called, a haunted castle.

  “Have all the guests arrived?” I asked Selene, gripping her hand tighter.

  “They are all here and waiting for your entrance,” she responded softly. “But as promised, they kept the guest list small. The reception they’d hold two weeks from now, though, will be much grander.”

  Of course.

  At least my father had allowed me this mercy on my wedding day.

  I had specifically asked them to keep the guest list as small as they could. Only because I knew this wedding was going to end in a disaster.

  Killian was barely hanging on to the thin thread of his sanity. God knows what he’d do when he finally reached his tipping point and we didn’t need an audience for that.

  “Nervous?” Selene joked, as we came down to the last step where my father was waiting for me.

  “Terrified,” I breathed, before my father grasped my hand in his.

  He eyed the black veil with disdain. I expected him to scold me, but instead, he gave me a soft smile, shoving his anger to the side. “You look absolutely gorgeous, my daughter. If only your mother would have seen you on this day. God bless her soul.”

  The lump in my throat grew larger. “Thank you, father.”

  “Call me dad today.” The emotions in his voice were unmistakeable. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on my forehead, over the veil. “I’m going to miss you, terribly. After Gracelynn, you were the only one keeping me together, keeping me going. And now…”

  I wrapped an arm around his waist, my head on his chest and I closed my eyes, feeling my father’s heartbeat. It soothed me. “Just because I’m going to be a married woman in twenty minutes doesn’t mean I’ll stop being your daughter.”

  “Ready to walk down the aisle?” he asked.

  In response, I wrapped my hand around the crook of his elbow. He patted the back of my hand while Selene handed me my bouquet of white and pink roses. Then, we walked through the double wooden doors and into the castle’s chapel.

  The sight of it would have taken my breath away – the flowers, the decorations, the beautiful sunlight casting through the wide panels of the chapel – but none of it compared to who was waiting for me at the end of the aisle.

  Killian had his back to me and he didn’t even bother to turn around to watch me walk down the aisle to him. My heart accelerated and my palms grew sweaty the closer I got.

  His feet were slightly apart, his arms down to his sides, his fists clenched and his back stiff. He looked more like he belonged in a military formation than his own wedding.

  The moment I stood beside him, his jaw tightened and I swore, the muscle in his left cheek almost popped with how hard he was gritting his teeth.

  My father clasped Killian by the shoulder. “She’s yours now.”

  And that was it.

  Killian didn’t respond. In fact, he barely even acknowledged my father’s words.

  “Start,” he barked at the priest.

  My muscles twitched at the harshness in his voice and I almost flinched. My nails dug into my palm and the pain soothed me.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the priest began and I barely paid attention to what he was saying.

  Blood rushed through my veins and I swayed, as the numbness slowly took over. I could hear the pounding of my heart echoing in my ears.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  It was so loud, I wondered if Killian could hear it. My legs trembled, feeling weaker than ever. I worried they’d give up under me and I’d end up taking my vows on my knees.

  When it was time for us to speak our vows, the priest gestured for us to hold hands. Killian grasped mine in his, shocking me – he was willingly touching me. I knew it was for the audience and the cameras flashing behind us but my skin tingled, even though his touch was barely a graze.

  “Killian Spencer, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her–”

  “I would like to repeat my vows in her ears, solely for my wife,” Killian interrupted.

  The priest smiled. “Of course. Vows are meant to be intimate and there’s nothing more special than whispering your love in your beloved ears.”

  My body went cold, my heart jumping to my throat until I almost gagged. If I knew Killian as much as I did…

  My lungs clenched.

  Killian shifted closer; his head lowered so that his lips were closer to my ear.

  The pressure on my chest grew unbearable. His breath feathered across my veil and the hair on my bare arms stood at attention.

  The priest started the vows again, but his words were drowned out as my heart echoed while Killian’s voice rasped in my ear. His own cruel version of our marriage vows.

  “Killian Spencer, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony–”

  “I vow to spend the rest of my life making you regret what you did to Gracelynn.”

  “… To love her, to honor her, to comfort her, to cherish her…”

  “To hurt you, to break you… and to hate you for the rest of our days. I will never be your protector, never your defender; I vow to be the villain in your story.�


  “… And to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

  “In health and in sickness, through sorrow and pain, for all the days in my life, I will be your worst nightmare.”

  With my beating heart bleeding at our feet, Killian pulled back then straightened to his full height. He towered over me, while his dark eyes grew darker and the corner of his lips pulled up in a vicious smile.

  “I do,” he said, his voice strong, but lacking any warmth.

  The priest turned to me. “Julianna Romano, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

  I met his gaze without flinching. I had no need to change our vows because while Killian was marrying me for vengeance, I was marrying him for a whole different reason.

  This was my way of seeking… salvation.

  “I do,” I repeated Killian’s earlier words.

  “… Till death do us part.”

  My eyes closed. “Till death do us part.”

  It barely even registered to me that we were already exchanging our rings; my thoughts were scattered as the cold reality of this situation finally sank into my veins.

  “…I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  His jaw tightened and I swore, the look in his eyes was deadly. I watched in horror as Killian took a step back.

  The silence that followed laid on my skin like poison, sinking under my flesh and paralyzing me as Killian walked away.

  Leaving me at the altar.

  I watched until he was completely gone, until even his shadow disappeared.

  There were no whispers. No cameras flashing.

  Nothing but silence.

  The priest made a strangling sound in the back of his throat. My father looked absolutely murderous while William gave me a bitter smile.

  He came forward and grasped my hand, bringing it up so he could kiss the back of it. “Welcome to the family, Julianna. I’ve always wanted a daughter,” he said smoothly, as if his son didn’t just leave me – his new bride – at the altar.

 

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