“You’re such a rare beauty. I didn’t know Lex had such a beautiful daughter.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Then Devious guides me to the sea of people. My eyes trail to Papa. He’s dressed in a tux, fully engaged into a conversation with some young girl who appears as the same age if not a little older than me. I scrape my nail on the crystal glass, wanting to scratch my Papa.
Anger eats at me for the way he pawned me off to Devious. Like I was a cattle to him. Especially since after Mother’s death, he promised her he wouldn’t do this. I hate the mafia. I wish Papa never told me he was an underboss on my sixteenth birthday.
“What’s wrong?” Devious voice tickles my ear and I take a step back. My heels sinking into the fresh cut grass.
His beautiful eyes follow my line of view.
“If you want to speak to your father and Emma, you can.”
“You know the woman?” I ask, not taking my eyes off her. Emma is beautiful. Her dark bangs hang over her forehead, making her ivory skin glow. Her cheeks are naturally red, and the short white dress hugs her body.
“She’s our whore.”
“Come again?” I shake my head.
“We have a woman we pass around to fuck. Every man at this event has fucked her.”
“Including you?”
“Yes.”
I shoot him a glare and he laughs.
“Is my little nymph jealous?”
“Fuck you, Devious.”
“Watch your tone and mouth, before I take off my belt and spank you in front of the guests.”
I ignore his threat. “I’m not jealous. She looks so young.”
“She’s in her early thirties. She looks young because she is plastic and has a lot of work done.”
“You’re not going to sleep with her while we’re married.” I say, needing to keep the façade of acting like I care about this marriage.
“It’s cute, you think you can tell me what to do, Roselyn.” He winks at me.
“I’m serious, Devious. You will not give me an STI.”
“I’m serious, too. You don’t tell me who I will not sleep with. FYI—I wasn’t planning on fucking anyone else.”
“I’m not feeling good,” I lie. “Can I lie down, please?”
I need to get the hell out of here and meet Tommy.
“Yes. Go straight to our bedroom,” Devious answers.
I nod and pivot up the stone staircase and hide behind a Greek statue.
I can do this. I can do this. This is one step closer to my freedom.
Exhaling loudly, I peek out the door and Devious presses his phone to his ear, so I run off towards the main entrance and I call Tommy.
“Where are you?”
“I’m on the property now, I’m parked in front of the mansion, standing next to my truck.”
“I’ll be right there.” I hit the end button as my pulse thumps loud in my neck.
Butlers and waitresses are too busy with bringing trays of foods and drinks to the backyard to notice me. As my heels click against the marble floor, I glance over my shoulder to make sure Devious doesn’t have any of his men following me.
Once the heat of the sun greets me, butterflies set in my stomach and anxiety eats at me.
I place my hands over my forehead, shielding them from the scorching heat. My eyes land on Tommy and he waves his hand.
I rush up to him and give him a hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome.” His tone is smooth. He hands me a wooden box. “When you get to Frankfurt let me know. We can go clubbing. My parents own a house there.”
“I will.” I give him a friendly hug and kiss on the cheek, before storming off to the bedroom.
I step out of the elevator and open the box I pick up my ID with the fake name on there. This is going to be my new life. I will no longer be Roselyn, but Sharon Conner. As I unzip my suitcase, I place the box in there. All our clothes are already hanging up in the closet, so Devious wouldn’t have any reason to look here.
The blood thirst to kill Devious is growing stronger and I can’t wait to be free from this life.
Roselyn
“HOLD STILL,” MARLA SAYS, TIGHTENING the strings on the back of my lace corset dress with the hems flaring at the end.
How can women breathe in this? The fabric is so tight around my torso I feel as if I’m going to burst any minute.
“You’re going to be so beautiful once I’m done with you.” Her tone is filled with enough delight she might turn into Marry Poppins.
We’re in a powder room in the manor. I stare at myself in the mirror. My thick hair is straight, my make-up is light and natural, and my lips are painted red. I look like a classy prostitute.
For the last few hours, Marla has been grooming me like a poodle. The last five days have been hard. My soon to be future dead husband has been his usual cold self. I have to ask for permission to do anything. Despite wanting to kill him, I did everything he said.
“Walk towards the floor mirror,” she orders.
I put one foot in front of the other as I walk on the cold slab of marble. My chest cavity burns, and my stomach aches. “How can I? I can barely breathe.”
“Sorry,” She loosens the strings a bit, grabs my shoulder, and spins me around to face her. She assesses me from head to toe, tapping her finger on her chin.
“Where are the heels?” she asks. I point to the walk in the closet and she disappears and returns with a pair of beige heels. I slide my feet into the shoes.
She sighs, grabbing the tiara and veil from the dresser and places it on my head. “You are so beautiful. Devious is a lucky man to marry someone as pretty as you.” Her eyes brim with tears
