I will never again allow a man to take from me something that isn’t his. I need to play this smart.
I nod my head and his eyes narrow further, silently considering if he should trust me or not, but wanting to make this transition as easy as possible, he releases his grip on my throat and steps back. “Fourth door on the right. You will shower and dress in the silk robe. The lingerie will come once the stylist has a chance to take your measurements.”
My eyes drop to the stairs and without another word, I start climbing them, trying to put a little distance between me and Marcus, but considering it’s past three in the morning, I doubt he has anywhere else to be other than his bedroom.
I get to the top and turn to the right only to find a long as fuck hallway and looking behind me, there’s one exactly the same. It’s going to take me forever to figure out this place. I’ve never understood why rich people buy homes like this. There’s no way in hell Marcus could have a use for every single room in this house. It’s not possible. He said there was an indoor lap pool and I don’t doubt there’s probably a squash court because rich pricks like Marcus are into the sort of shit. There’s probably a room just for his cigars, shoes, and suits.
After walking forever and reaching the fourth door, I push through to a lavish bathroom with marble everything. It’s insane. I’ve never seen anything like it, not even Maria’s personal bathroom is like this.
I step through and close the door behind me, making sure to lock the door. I double-check it and take a good look around, checking for anything out of place. If I’m about to strip off in here, I don’t want to do it with an audience or on camera.
Confident that I’m truly alone, I walk over to the vanity and look up in the mirror. I’m a fucking mess. Today has been huge with all sorts of emotions rushing through me. I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.
I’m still torn on whether today has been a good day or a bad one. Obviously, there’s the whole marrying Marcus which is the biggest downfall ever, but then, learning that Slade is alive…well, fuck, nothing could ever be greater than that. I got to touch him, feeling his hand in mine, his voice wrapping around me like a caress. I thought those small blessings that I always took advantage of were gone forever. But never again, I’ll never take advantage of that. Every touch will be cherished, every kiss, every hug, I’ll remember every single one because they’re all so damn important to me.
I pinch the top of my finger and pull these ridiculous gloves off my arms. They’re so fucking stupid. I look like an idiot in them. The veil was lost back at the church but I’m sure it’s neatly folded inside Maria’s handbag, either that or one of her country club bitches stuffed it in her bra along with her fake titties.
I start pulling pins from my hair and cringe at the makeup plastered on my face. I’m no stranger to makeup but this is absurd. I look one hundred years old, it’s all caked on and thick and the wrong color for my skin. The makeup artist went for a smokey eye and this morning it looked mostly alright, but after the day from hell, I now look like a raccoon.
Turning around, I get a good look at the back of the dress. How the hell am I going to get out of this? If I was wearing anything else, I’d do my best to keep my clothes on, but I need to get out of this thing. It’s hard to breathe, hard to move, and certainly will be hard to fight. That point was proven in the church.
If I want a fighting chance to avoid being raped tonight, then I need to have something on that I can move in and unfortunately, my only option is the silk robe hanging on the back of the door. At least I can tie it up and try to keep myself decent.
I start pulling at this stupid corset back. Maria made sure to do it up as tight as my body could possibly allow. I wonder how she’ll feel about me finding a pair of scissors and cutting myself out of it. For a brief moment, I consider finding one of the staff to help me undress but then I run the risk of her seeing the knife at my ankle and confiscating it. I haven’t earned their loyalty yet but it’s something I’m going to have to start working on. I don’t know how long I’m going to be here and if it’s longer than I’m hoping, I need to get some friends on my side.
After ten grueling minutes, I finally get out of this ridiculous dress and peel off the white lacy lingerie Maria had forced me into this morning.
As much as I shouldn’t be getting naked in here, I can’t resist the promise of how a good shower would make me feel. I don’t want to admit it, but I bet Marcus has the best showers in the country. He’d have the best products, the best towels, the best…the best everything. I wonder how he’s going to feel when he realizes that he has a less than perfect wife who won’t conform to what he wants. Damn, that’s going to play out like a little TV mini-series.
I stand under the shower for apparently way too long as Marcus’ fist slams into the door. “Hurry up,” he roars through the door. I turn the tap on full blast, hoping the sound of the water crashing against my scalp can somewhat dull the sound of him outside my door.
When my hands are thoroughly pruney, I reluctantly get out. I’m only delaying the inevitable. I have to get this over and done with. I have to be strong.
I can do this.
I dry myself up and run the towel through my dripping hair. Screw him and his rules. It’s close to 4 am. I sure as hell won’t be blow drying my hair and spritzing some weird perfume over my body. I’d rather make a run for it, steal someone’s phone and call Slade with the address to come and pick me up.
I wonder what happened to him and Shay after they were kicked out of the ceremony. There were too many witnesses for something tragic to happen. Hopefully, they were just thrown out and left to leave peacefully.
I couldn’t honestly believe that, could I? I should do myself a favor and try to remember who these people are.
Wanting to know what I’m really up against, I pull the robe on and tie it with a double knot. I scramble through the mess of material left on the floor and pull out the knife. I consider strapping it to my leg like Luce had it but I need easy access and decide on keeping it in the palm of my hand.
I hesitantly open the door and peer out. The hallway is clear and I let out a shaky breath. Maybe I can make a run for it after all.
I step out into the hallway and get three steps before Marcus is at my back. He grabs my arm and starts pulling me toward a closed door. “Too long,” he growls, clearly pissed off with my antics.
The door is thrown open and I’m pulled into a big, modern room that has a floor to ceiling window which overlooks the front of the property. Marcus’ fingers bite into my arms, stinging with each forceful tug. He keeps his gaze forward and I’m lucky as one look down would have his eyes on my knife, and I’m not ready to give that one up yet.
“You will learn that I’m not one for games, Skylah,” he spits. “When I give you ten minutes to shower, I mean ten minutes. I’m a man of my word.”
I roll my eyes. I’ve heard that bullshit before.
He continues to tug me toward his massive bed. “I was willing to take my time and make this a little exciting, but now I’m tired. It’s going to be a quick and hard fuck that you’ll be sorry for in the morning.”
Shit.
Marcus pulls me in and grabs my shoulders, turning us so I feel the bed at the back of my knees. My heart races in my chest. I can’t do this again. I won’t have another entitled, arrogant asshole take advantage of me. I’m better than this. I may technically be his wife, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to play wifey.
This shit ends here.
My blade flicks out and within a blink of an eye, it’s pushed up against his throat. Marcus’ eyes go wide as he rears back, trying to pull away from my sharp blade. “Get your filthy hands off me,” I demand, watching his jaw clench in anger.
“Put the knife down,” he spits, standing as still as a statue and making me grin. When it was Slade against the tip of my knife, he didn’t back down. He stood tall and proud, where this little bitch is desperate to move away, pro
ving just how cowardly he is.
I repeat myself. “Get your dirty as fuck hands off me.”
“Or what?” he laughs. “You wouldn’t do it. You’ve had four years to fight back and you’ve never even tried, and you know why? Because you love it.”
I raise a brow, letting him see the wicked torture in my eyes that the last four years have caused me. “You don’t think I’ll do it?” I question. “Think again.”
I flick my wrist and the sharp blade sails across his throat, cutting a shallow groove, not deep enough to cause any real damage, but enough to sting like a mother fucking bitch, enough to have Damian high-fiving me while Slade spanked my ass for a job well done.
His eyes go wide as he throws his hand to his throat. “Fuck,” he roars, rushing across the room and grabbing an old shirt. He holds it to his throat and I watch as he panics over a little paper cut.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he warns me.
I let out a frustrated groan. “Fuck me,” I grumble, dropping down to the bed and teasing him with the knife in my hand. “You big shots really need to come up with some new scare tactics. Do you know how many times Lucien has used that line on me? It’s getting really old.”
“He clearly never got through to you. When I’m through with you…”
“What? What could you possibly do to make me conform? Hit me? Well, guess what? Lucien beat you to that? You could shoot me,” I say, drawing up the bottom of the robe to show my scar, “but Lucien beat you to that one too. Which only leaves throwing me down on the bed and raping me until I bleed.” I suck in a sarcastic breath and cringe. “Sorry…that option has been tested and tried and guess what? It didn’t work.”
Marcus narrows his eyes. “You’re lying,” he growls, unsure of himself. “Your virginity was part of the deal.”
I laugh. “How could you be so naive? Do you honestly think Lucien would raise me for thirteen years and not expect something in return? You saw the way he would watch you touching me. As if he could resist trying it for himself. You got fucked over while I just got fucked.”
Marcus strides over to me only stopping when I throw myself to my feet and hold out the knife that he now knows I won’t hesitate to use. “If I find out you’re lying…”
“Call him,” I suggest with a smug grin. “Ask him for yourself how he stole my virginity in my bedroom, took what was rightfully yours, and laughed about it, laughed at you.”
His jaw clenches again and I hold in my laughter, loving the lie. I mean, Lucien certainly raped me but he didn’t get the pleasure of taking my virginity. I made sure of that, but Marcus doesn’t need to know that.
Fire burns in his eyes. He’s furious and I love how he’s a puppet on a string, so easy to manipulate.
“Ask yourself,” I whisper, leaning in and pressing the tip of the knife to his chest, warning him not to move. “Why do you think I ran six months ago? What could have been so bad to make a little girl run from her home? He tore through me, stole my virginity in the blink of an eye.”
Marcus steps back before turning and storming over to the side of his room. He grabs a bottle of whiskey and takes a shot before his anger gets the best of him and he launches the bottle against the wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces.
“FUCK,” he growls, grabbing another and throwing that too, having an expensive little tantrum.
He strides back over to me, this time not giving a shit about the knife as he grabs my wrist and storms toward the door, pulling me along.
I struggle to keep up with his long strides, especially as he races back down the stairs. I stumble behind him, but he’s relentless, not for a second releasing his grip. I fall down the last few steps on my knees but he drags me along until I’m able to scramble to my feet.
Within seconds, he’s pushing through the internal garage door and throwing me against an Aston Martin. His hand slaps hard across my face and before I have a second to react, the door is opened and I’m thrown in.
Marcus drops down into the driver’s seat and doesn’t even wait until the garage door is completely opened before hitting the gas and flying up the longest driveway I’ve ever seen.
We get onto the main road with Marcus grumbling to himself and within the space of twenty minutes, we’re pulling into an all too familiar driveway, that has my chest sinking.
Chapter 14
The gate opens for Marcus’ Aston Martin and without wasting a second, he flies down Lucien’s driveway, making sure to mark it up with his fancy-ass tires.
This isn’t good. I was all for fucking around and angering him, but coming back here, no. I never wanted to step foot onto this property again. I thought marrying Marcus meant the end of Maria and Lucien for me. Sure, there would have been the occasional business meeting that would have seen Lucien in Marcus’ home, but this…I can’t.
Marcus comes to a screeching stop at the top of the driveway and instantly leans over me. He tears open the glove compartment and shoves his hand in, fishing around until he pulls out a small revolver.
My eyes widen as I tighten my grip on the knife. Shit is about to go down.
“Out,” he spits.
Seeing as though you don’t take a knife to a gunfight, I clamber out of the Aston Martin and hurry toward the front entrance. There are far too many stairs for me to manage in my exhausted state but it’s no issue for Marcus as he grabs my wrist and pulls me along, not caring when I trip over my sore feet.
His fist thumps loudly against the hardwood of the door. Once. Twice. Three times, but he’ll never get an answer. Maria and Lucien’s room is way over the other end. There would have been an alert that we entered through the gate but with how exhausting the day has been, they would have slept through it. I can guarantee that they have absolutely no idea that we’re here.
I’m torn. Marcus wants to go all out at Lucien with a gun and I’m kind of excited about that, but what happens if that gun is turned on me afterward. I’m used goods. He doesn’t want me now. Am I a loose end that he needs to deal with? Should I just start running in a zig-zag, hoping he has a shitty aim?
Fuck. I don’t know.
I have my knife and I know where at least fifty percent of the guns are hidden in this house, that’s assuming they haven’t been moved in the past six months. My bedroom was completely overhauled to minimize the accessibility to anything that could be used as a weapon so it’s possible everything else was too.
Coming to the realization that I need to know the outcome of this, I let out a sigh and nod to the third pillar. “The second brick from the bottom is loose. There’s a spare key,” I tell him, officially becoming an accomplice of this shit.
Marcus doesn’t waste a second and finds the key before jamming it into the lock with such ferocity that the whole door rattles on its hinges. I hash in the alarm code and a second later, he throws the door open and instantly hollers through the big house, his voice echoing off every wall. “GET YOUR GOOD FOR NOTHING, SLIMY ASS DOWN HERE, LUCIEN VALENTINE.”
There’s a noise and some banging coming from upstairs before Lucien’s face appears over the railing. “What is all the commotion?” he roars, pissed to have been woken. His facial expression turns to curiosity as he realizes who stands in his home before caution overtakes.
“Your office. Now,” Marcus demands, grabbing my wrist and pulling me along.
I let out a shaky breath.
I need Blake. This is his world too and he’ll know best what I should do. This is way out of my league. I’ve gotten myself into a big fucking mess and now I’m fucked.
Marcus barges through Lucien’s office door and pushes me toward the desk as he helps himself to Lucien’s rum, grabbing the bottle and not giving a shit about the mess he makes while trying to put it into a glass.
Lucien strides in moments later and I don’t miss the gun in his hand.
Fuck. This is not a place I want to be. He must have seen the revolver Marcus walked in here with and from the look in his ey
es and the way his sharp glare comes to me, he knows exactly what this is about.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. I can’t be here.
Marcus turns to Lucien and strides toward him, probably feeling invincible with that gun in his hand. Lucien’s hand stays by his side, smart enough not to escalate this if it doesn’t need to be.
Marcus lashes out, curling his hand into a tight fist and hitting Lucien with a devastating uppercut, sending him doubling over as Marcus spits through his teeth. “You took what was mine.”
“I took nothing. She’s a liar.”
Marcus’ glare slices toward me as I step around Lucien’s desk, ready to duck for cover if a bullet was to come flying this way. I’ve already been shot once before and I don’t plan on having to suffer through that again.
Despite Marcus’ lethal stare, I cut my gaze back at Lucien. “That’s bullshit,” I growl. “Do the words ‘I need to take you before it’s too late’ ring a bell? You remember, they’re the exact words you said to me right before you raped me.”
“You’re a liar,” he spits, panicking as he looks back at Marcus. “You couldn’t possibly believe this shit? I told you, she ran away because she found that she had family.”
“I didn’t know I had family until I got to the police station and they searched our names, our real names.”
“Real names?” Marcus demands.
I grin. “That’s right. I’m not legally a Valentine. Blake and I weren’t adopted by these psychopaths. Maria had my parents killed by Anton Mathers and we were taken.”
“I don’t give a shit about your sob story,” Marcus spits. “I want to know if the name on the wedding papers is your real name?”
Lucien is quick to jump in. “Yes, of course, it is. I had it changed to Valentine when she was a kid. The papers are legal and so is your marriage.”
“Fuck,” Marcus yells. “I don’t fucking want her now. Not after you’ve touched her. She’s broken…used. I was promised a virgin. You fucked me over. Four fucking years of waiting and you fucked me at the last minute.”
Real Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 4) Page 10
