Wife Unwanted (Corrupt Vows #2)

Chapter 8

Thalia

OUR WEDDING WAS probably the coldest summer wedding ever. Not because of the weather, no, but because of the frosty divide between the bride and groom. You wouldn't have guessed it from the photos, though. Or even from the way we behaved around the guests. Carey acted like a sweet and loving groom, while I reciprocated equally, but each time he touched me, I felt the ice in his hands and each time he kissed me; I felt the emptiness in the fake affection. By the time the wedding was over and we were on our way to our Nolan Hawthorne Sr mandated honeymoon, I knew something was definitely wrong.

The flight to Mykonos was eerily quiet. Carey sat on one end of the jet and made it clear without saying anything that he didn't want to be disturbed, giving me no choice but to sit on the other end. Even the stewards could tell something was not right, but they were professional enough not to be obvious. When we arrived on his family's yacht in Greece, a boat too large to fit into the harbor, Carey went to the bedroom and shut himself there. I was left to deal with the staff and pretend everything was okay as I ate dinner on my own on the deck under the Greek sky. It was a beautiful location for a honeymoon; I had to admit, and the food was superb, but much as I tried, I couldn't swallow much of it.

After several tries of stuffing the perfectly made souvlaki down, I gave up and decided it was now or never. I had to confront him. As I marched down the gilded oak and white boat, each step towards the master bedroom felt heavier, like I was dragging my feet down the plush white carpet. I opened the double shiny oak doors, thinking he was asleep. He wasn't. He was awake, sitting on one of the cream chairs at the small round table, eyes glued to a laptop. My husband was working? On his honeymoon? "We can't go on like this," I announced as soon as I closed the door.

He took a deep, exasperated breath and closed the laptop. He leaned back in his chair, facing me. The bored expression he put on unnerved me and I went tongue-tied. "Go on like what, Thalia?"

I gathered my courage. "You have been cold to me. Ignoring me. We were on our honeymoon and I ate supper alone. That's weird. You haven't been the same for a week now, and I need to know why."

"You're a smart girl. Work it out."

If I had done anything to upset him, I'm sure he would have told me. This coldness was not him. "Did I do something wrong?"

He scoffed. "You sound so innocent when you speak. Was that part of the training?"

"T-training?"

He got up and stalked up to me until he was standing a couple of feet away. His menacing stance terrified me, but was mesmerizing enough that I simply stood in place. "Our first meeting wasn't by chance, was it? I should have guessed. You pretty much told me and I didn't want to listen. The way you acted like you didn't want me," he shook his head, "it was so I could want you more, wasn't it? So I could pursue you. Make me feel like I was the one begging for time with you when all of it was orchestrated."

Oh no. He knew. "It wasn't like that at all."

He crossed his arms against his chest. "So you're saying my father didn't pay you to seduce me?"

"No. I didn't receive any money from him." Except for that check he gave me, which I tore and trashed.

"Don't play with me Thalia. I know he gave you a check. For services rendered ."

The world around me shook as I recalled the night he was referring to. "It was you listening?"

"Surprised your little scheme is now out in the open."

"Carey, please, it's not like that at all. For what it's worth, I didn't take the money. I can explain."

"Go ahead."

I wanted to tell him everything that happened, my reasons for accepting his father's deal, later rejecting it, accepting it again, but as I tried to formulate an explanation, my mind drew a blank. How was I to explain my flip flopping without making myself look like I was greedy? I couldn't tell him the real reason. Nolan Hawthorne had already proven to me he could easily reverse course if I let his son know.

"Tongue tied?" He raised his eyebrows. The disdain on his face was plain to see. Every part of his body exuded rejection and hate that felt painful to receive.

"If I tell you I can't give you the reason, will you believe me?"

He smirked and shook his head. "Was it worth it? I guess it is now that you have pretty much achieved your teenage dream. I don't know how I had forgotten how much you wanted to be part of our family."

"That's not—"

"Really? Because I remember the little diary entry you made talking about how you'll one day become a Hawthorne and signed it Thalia Hawthorne."

My cheeks flushed at the memory. He and his friends had walked in on me while I was in the laundry room. His friend snatched the manifestation diary I was writing in and began reading the entry. It just coincidentally be the day I wrote about my crush on Carey and hope to date him one day. Carey and his friends had laughed. It was also the last time I ever poured my feelings on a piece of paper.

He let out a harsh laughter. "I don't know why I thought I was making my own choices when my father had already made it for me. So what was the deal you made with my father? How much did he pay you?"

"You were never supposed to know," I said. "I didn't want to do it at first, but he tied my hands. If you must know, all of my feelings for you were real."

That made him fly into a rage. “Don't you ever! Ever say you had any feelings for me! Everything about people like you is transactional. I was a fool to think otherwise.”

I felt a stab at my chest. "People like me?"

"Gold diggers who think they can get ahead in life by getting on their knees and sucking whatever cock that can get them ahead." He closed the gap between us and leaned into my ear. "Did you suck my father's dick, too? Is that how you convinced him to make you my wife?"

I was so repulsed; I slapped him without thinking. I turned to the door, wanting to get away from him, but he grabbed my hand and snatched me back into his arms. We were face to face, our hands crushed between our chests. I wiggled out of his grasp, but he held me firm. "I'm not done with you," he said.

My breath hitched as I my hand splayed against his chest. I could feel his heart beating, the rhythm same as my own. Looking up into his eyes, I wanted to show him I wouldn't be intimidated, but I saw something else. Hunger and desire. They were dark with the same passion I could feel build up inside me. I want you , his gaze seemed to say. But what did that mean when he was equally repulsed by my presence? Even though I felt shame for what I did, I still had some morals left.

"I don't want to have sex with you," I said.

"Fucking is the last thing I want to do to you right now. You could be naked and I would not be tempted to touch your body. Not now. Not ever." His words did exactly what they intended. They pierced my heart and knocked me down several pegs.

"So, what do you want? A divorce?" My challenge was empty. There's no way his father was going to let that happen.

"You and I will remain married for the foreseeable future. But those babies my father paid you to have, tough luck. You ain't having them, because this is the last time I am touching you." He gave me a kiss. A brutal, punishing kiss that made my insides flutter and my soul cry. "We are going to stay on this honeymoon like a happily married couple. When we return home, you will act like the dutiful wife you sold yourself to be and if you want to fuck someone, you do it discreetly, like a good, bored housewife. Understood."

"And what about you?"

His mouth twitched. "Don't worry about me. I can get pussy easy enough. As for whatever relationship we had, it's all gone. You and I are husband and wife in name only."