Love Me: An Enemies To Lovers Dark College Romance

Chapter 1

Two years ago

Love. Safety. Home. That’s what I feel when I look at Kaden, yet it’s not enough to describe the depth of my feelings. I’m not an orphan or just a girl to him. I’m his world.

My favorite place is a small cabin in the woods near our houses in Greenville. It’s cozy and quaint, with a worn-out carpet, a small bed, and a round table. No one else is allowed here. Our friends complain, but I don’t care, it’s ours.

He leans against the door, his deep-blue eyes with flecks of gray peering into mine. Goose bumps skitter over my skin, and my heartbeat picks up.

“Celine.” My name out of his mouth is a prayer of reverence that melts me.

“Kaden,” I say breathlessly.

His brown hair is thicker on top and shorter on the sides, emphasizing his elegant yet sharp features: his angular cheekbones, straight nose, and sculpted jaw. Those sinful lips curve into a smirk. He looks so mouthwateringly good—perfection from the inside out.

He reaches me in three strides and cups my cheek, his nose brushing against mine. Intimacy veils me, creating a dreamy cocoon.

“I’ll love you until my last breath and beyond.” His words ink on my heart, which is his entirely. “Marry me.”

My eyes widen, and my hand goes to my mouth as he goes down on one knee. Emotions swell in my chest, overwhelming me.

He plucks something from his pocket: two platinum necklaces, precious yet so meaningful. His necklace is shiny and simple, but mine has tiny diamonds embedded around the letters. I trace my finger over the cross-like pendant with an inscription. The YM are horizontal, and the two T’s and A make up a vertical line, the acronym for You and me. Today, tomorrow, always.

“You’ll wear my ring when we have the big wedding. Until then, I need to know you’re mine.”

“Oh my god.” Those are all the words I can form.

“Is that a yes?”

I nod enthusiastically, my insides humming in delight.

Kaden stands and places a sweet kiss on my lips. I savor the moment as he locks the necklace around my neck and then offers me his.

Fingers trembling, I need a few attempts to lock the chain, but our souls are irrevocably sealed when it clicks. He brightens my world. He is my world.

Our lips seek and give in to a passionate kiss. Nibbling and tasting, my eyes close as the heavenly moment sweeps me away.

Kaden’s fingers skim over my exposed neck, heating my skin. My belly flutters in anticipation. I can’t get enough. I will never get enough of him. I am desperate for everything he can give me and more.

There’s no one else for me. How could it be when I have loved him for as long as I can remember?

His smile brands my skin. He trails his lips down my cheek, neck, and the valley of my breasts. The cacophony of sensation awakens a ravenous desire. So good, so addictive, yet never enough to satiate my need for him.

“I love you,” I murmur.

“I love you more. You and me.”

“Today, tomorrow, always.”

He takes my hand in his and places it on his heart. “In the name of God and the stars above, I, Kaden Astor, take you, Celine Langley, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, never to be parted.”

Tears well in my eyes as he changes the last part of the vow, a promise not even death could break.

With a choked voice, I recite my own. “In the name of God and the stars above, I, Celine Langley, take you, Kaden Astor, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, never to be parted.”

We seal our union with a deep kiss that leaves me breathless and aching for more.

He brushes his knuckles against my cheek, his eyes glittering with unadulterated love. “Wife.”

A contented sigh falls from my lips as I lean into his touch. “Husband.”

I will always wonder how I got so lucky to meet my soulmate at such a young age. We’ve been friends since we were in diapers, always gravitating toward one another until we were old enough to understand what was happening between us.

He presses a tender kiss on my lips. “You’re perfect.”

“You’re in love,” I reply, then put his hand on my heart. “This is yours. I’m yours.”

His eyes burn with intensity, the blue darkening to almost black. “Only mine.”

“Only yours.”

“And I’m yours. There’s no one but you for me, Celine.”

A solitary tear rolls down my cheek, and he kisses it away. Everything in him is made to comfort me, to love me.

Outside the window, dusk creeps over the horizon. Wanting to memorize what took place today, I close my eyes to secure our union in a box filled with my most treasured memories. When I open them again, he pulls me into his arms––the only place I call home.

“Let’s stay here,” I suggest.

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Grandmother summoned me.”

You don’t say no to the matriarch of the Family. Placing a kiss on his chest, I sigh. “Don’t make her wait.”

“I don’t care. The world could burn, and my only concern would be you, my wife.”

I lift on my toes to kiss him. His wife. My husband. It feels right. It doesn’t matter that I am seventeen and he’s eighteen. What we have transcends social norms.

“Are you scared?” I ask.

He cocks his head. “Of the initiation? I think all the hype is meant to scare us.”

“I am.” I wish I were braver. I sigh, and his arms tighten around me like a makeshift heaven.

“I would destroy this world to take care of you.” He says it like a vow set in stone, his tone hard. He would. I know he would. “It’s my responsibility, my honor, my life.”

We watch the sun go down, then take the path through the forest home, hand in hand.

“I’ll come to you right after,” he says once we reach my front door.

With a parting kiss, he leaves, and unease spreads inside me.

We have grown up knowing we must be worthy of our place in the Family. Grandmother, the matriarch of the five families, always says family duty comes first. We go through the so-called initiation when she deems the time has come. It’s a test to show our loyalty to the Family.

Grandmother’s impressive architectural mansion stands proudly on the top of the hill. Just like her, challenging time and commanding respect.

The other families’ houses are at the foot of the hill, circling the large mansion. Six houses, but one has been left to the whims of nature, carrying a ghostly warning. It stands as a reminder to the rest of us that if we do something wrong, we can just as easily be eliminated.

Five remained from the original six families: The Astors, the Vosses, the Sinclairs, the Langleys, and the Fairchilds. Each rules over a particular business sector, amassing power and impressive fortunes.

Our family history began two hundred years ago. The founding families bought land in Delaware until they owned the entire peninsula. Through marriage alliances and smart investment strategies, they built an empire. Eventually, they ventured into other business endeavors like finance, healthcare, real estate, retail, telecommunication, and education. The Family has its hands in every key sector of society. Untouchable, unfathomably rich, and powerful.

The matriarch or patriarch of the Family is the unofficial ruler of the region. And every generation has its own leader: the firstborn.

A vast patch of land in Greenville acts as the family compound. The ruler, my grandmother, delegates the mayor, controls the police, and owns most resources like land and money. But in the end, we all have to comply and be the perfect, obedient representatives of the Family. There is no free will when you’re born into a dynasty.

An eerie silence welcomes me as I step inside my two-story British colonial-style home. I pass by a family portrait on the wall in the middle of the hallway. It was taken right after I turned five, and it’s the last of me and my parents together. Even though the pain over their passing has dulled, the wound in my heart pulses every time I walk past it.

Upstairs and down the hall, my spacious bedroom, with a wall made entirely of one-way glass, awaits me. Digging my feet into the plush carpet, I stare at the fairy lights dangling from the ceiling. Thinking of Kaden, I gaze longingly at the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

After getting changed for bed, I look out the window. Dark blue paints the sky, the night replacing the day in their constant chase. He’ll be here soon, and the knowledge soothes me.

I haven’t slept without him by my side in years. Our relationship is frowned upon, mostly because marriages in the Family have always been arranged, planned, and executed to perfection to gain influence. Not wanting to linger in my depressing thoughts, I pick up a book and lose myself in tales of far-away lands with girls more courageous than me.

I am halfway through the book, but my restlessness is full-blown now. Kaden should have been here by now. Where is he?

Throwing the book to the side, I pick up my phone and call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. I text him next, but my message remains unseen. Unease crawls over my skin. Having had enough of pacing but still antsy, I put on a sweatshirt and rush down the stairs.

Outside, the late summer chill wraps around my bare legs, and I hug myself, trying to keep warm. Thankfully, artificial lights are strategically placed on each side of the paved road connecting all the Family houses so I can see where I need to go.

I stop in front of his house. Chalk-washed walls contrast with the dark gray paneling and rattan screens. Even our houses look similar and harmonious, like the overall image we present to the world.

I insert the key Kaden gave to me and step inside. Silence and darkness blanket the foyer. Switching on the light, I call Kaden’s name. Panic sits heavy in my chest when there is no answer. No one is home. His parents are away most of the time, preferring to live in the city. We have pretty much raised ourselves, along with governesses and staff, under Grandmother’s watchful eyes. But where is Kaden?

My hands turn clammy as I search through every room and don’t find him.

Rushing outside again, my gaze lands on the house sitting atop the hill—Grandmother’s pristine white monstrosity. I run toward it, not caring that I wasn’t invited. The thought of seeing her sends a chill down my spine, but needing to know Kaden is all right trumps everything else.

Swiping at the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand, I breathe in a lungful of air, knock on the bulky door, and try to suppress my shudder. The door knocker is in the shape of an eagle’s head, complete with a razor-sharp beak, giving the impression it’s about to rip your head off.

Thomas, Grandmother’s trusted butler, and most longstanding employee, opens the door.

“Miss Langley, what are you doing here?”

“K-Kaden?” I stammer.

His gaze turns compassionate. “He’s not here. You should go.”

Before I’m able to, Grandmother’s gravelly voice roots me in place. “Who’s at the door, Thomas?”

My blood freezes, and his look of compassion turns to pity as he opens the door, revealing Grandmother. She is my mother’s mother, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from how she treats me. She is as she always is—cold and indifferent.

She gestures for Thomas to let me in. Inhaling deeply to fortify myself, I take a small step into the grand foyer. The exterior represents an architectural work of art, and the statues and paintings that adorn the walls inside are an antique, regal style that is fit for a matriarch.

Her piercing gaze travels down my body, sharp disapproval painting her face. Dressed in all black, she carries an aristocratic air of intimidation. I swallow the lump in my throat.

“How dare you present yourself this way!”

“I’m sorry, Grandmother, but Kaden—”

“Is not here.”

Any words of reply get stuck at the back of my throat. I watch her in her perfect black dress and pearls, even this late at night. At seventy, she still looks strong, as though time stretches, allowing her to reign unperturbed.

“Please, Granny—”

“Grandmother.” It hits me again how she makes no allowances between me and the other heirs. Every one of us calls her Grandmother as per request, just as we call the elders in the Family, Uncle and Aunt. Titles like that are used to show respect and our knitted relationships to the outside world––the biggest lie possible. Even though I am her blood, I’d say she dislikes me the most. “Now leave.”

“But Kaden…”

She waves me off. “Always so desperate for love, Celine. Don’t be such a burden.” With those parting words, she turns and walks away.

Tears rain down my face as I run home. With dejection and worry dragging me into a hellish hole, I crash on the floor and weep. My insides roll and twist on the way down, falling until I hit rock bottom. My spirit cracks, leaving me vulnerable. I’m not a burden, am I? But allowing these thoughts to linger would disrespect our love and hurt Kaden, so I infuse strength into my bruised being and gather myself from the floor.

We’ll be fine. Nothing could tear us apart.

***

A loud bang jolts me awake, and I shoot up on the couch in the open living room. My mind has been such a jumbled mess, a thick fog wrapping around my sanity. I have spent the last seventy-two hours in such absolute despair that I can’t think clearly. Maybe I’m hallucinating, and hearing things is the first sign I’m losing my mind.

The entry door opens, sways, and hits the wall repeatedly before I see Kaden. My heart jolts to life, but my relief is short-lived. He wobbles on his feet as he steps inside, a bottle dangling from his hand. He never drinks alcohol. Well, he never used to.

“Kaden?”

His arm shoots out to stop me from going to him. My heart plummets and scatters on the floor, deflating me instantly.

“What happened?”

An aura of pain radiates from him, and I am desperate to soothe him. I rush over, but he says “No” in a gruff voice that tears at my heartstrings.

I freeze on the spot. That one word I never heard from him before, combined with him not wanting me near him, stomps on my chest, cutting off my air supply. Tears roll down my cheeks, coating my lips.

“Please, tell me what’s going on. How can I make this better?”

“Do you love me?”

Does he even need to ask?

“I love you,” I say, my tone edging into desperation. “I always have, and I always will.”

He throws the bottle at the wall. The glass shatters into small pieces that scatter over the tiles. Breaking down, he drops to his knees in front of me. Seeing him in the clutches of agony wrecks me. I kneel in front of him and hold him, rocking us both in an attempt to comfort him.

“Everything will be okay.”

“Nothing will ever be okay again,” he says, sounding defeated.

I help him stand, and we trudge our way up the stairs. He falls on my bed with a hiss. I join him quickly. Caressing his face, I kiss his temple and interlink our fingers. I squeeze them lightly, signaling I am here for him, wishing to take away from him whatever hurts.

He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Tomorrow, I need you to say no.”

“What? Kaden, I don’t understand.”

“Prove to me you love me. Say no.”