Chapter 5 #2
"But Evie…" I swallowed hard, imagining my sister's face. The disappointment. The shock. Maybe even disgust at her little sister's choices. "She's going to know something's wrong. She always knows."
"Then it's better we tell her together, on our terms, than have her find out some other way." His voice softened slightly. "I'll handle it."
Those three words somehow made it worse. Like I was a problem to be managed rather than a person with fears and feelings.
The car waiting at the private airfield was another sleek black vehicle with tinted windows. With a churning in my gut, I watched the familiar streets of New York pass by as we headed to Kate and Tristan's brownstone.
With each mile, my anxiety spiked higher. My palms were sweating, my heart racing. The ring felt like it was cutting off circulation to my finger.
"Stop fidgeting," Rafe said without looking at me. "It's going to be fine."
"Easy for you to say," I muttered. "You're not the one who has to face their sister and explain why you've married someone you barely know."
"I believe you know me quite intimately now," he replied, that maddening half-smile returning. "After all, we've shared a bed."
"We shared space on a mattress with a pillow wall between us," I corrected, heat rising to my face at the memory of how that wall had failed by morning. "That's hardly intimate."
His gaze shot to mine, something dark and hungry flickering in their depths. "Are you sure about that, Cecelia?"
Before I could respond, the car pulled up in front of Kate and Tristan's sprawling home. Lights blazed from every window, and I could see figures moving inside. My family. My friends. The people I was about to shock with the worst decision of my life.
Rafe was at my door before I could gather my courage, offering his hand to help me out. I took it automatically, the contact sending that same treacherous heat through my veins.
"Remember," he said quietly, his lips close to my ear, "this is for both our benefit. Just follow my lead."
His lead led us straight through the front door and into the dining room.
“So sorry we’re late.” His voice was light and breezy. I wanted to kill him. “Our plane only landed an hour ago.”
One after the other, our friends looked at each other in confusion. It was Liam who spoke first, “Your plane? You two were together.”
“Of course.” Rafe’s smile was bright, causing his dimples to pop. “Kinda needed my bride next to me before Elvis could declare us officially married.”
Chaos erupted, all of them speaking at the same time.
“What the fuck?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did he say married?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Rafe just smiled and curled his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. Or tried to. I didn’t move. Those long fingers dug into my skin and with a low growl, I slid closer to him.
“I know you have questions,” he said, smoothly. “And we’ll answer them. Later. Right now, I’m more than desperate to be alone with my wife. Ciao.”
Taking my hand, he all but dragged me out of the house.
The drive back to his place passed in a haze of shock and building rage. By the time we stepped into the elevator, I was vibrating with fury, my hands shaking as I clutched my purse.
The moment we stepped into the penthouse, I exploded.
"How dare you?" I screamed, whirling to face him as soon as the door closed behind us. "How fucking dare you announce it like that and then drag me out before I could even explain?"
Rafe stood perfectly still, hands in his pockets, face impassive. It only fueled my rage.
"You humiliated me!" I continued, pacing the entryway like a caged animal. "Is that what you wanted? To make me look pathetic in front of the only people who matter to me?"
"I was efficient," he replied, his calm voice a stark contrast to my hysteria. "It's done now. They know."
"They don't know anything. They think I'm insane or desperate or both!" Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "My sister looked at me like she didn't even know who I was."
"Would you have preferred I let you fumble through some half-baked explanation?" he asked, removing his jacket and draping it over a chair with maddening calmness. "This way was cleaner."
"Cleaner?" I laughed, the sound both harsh and broken. "There's nothing clean about parading me in front of my family like some prize you've won."
"I didn't force you into anything," he said, his voice dropping dangerously low. "You made a choice."
"A choice?" I stalked toward him, fury overwhelming common sense. "You blackmailed me. You threatened to tell my sister about Santiago if I didn't agree to marry you."
"And now you're protected," he countered, still infuriatingly calm. "From Santiago, from financial ruin, from having to dance in clubs to pay your debts."
"Protected?" I spat the word like poison. "Is that what you call this? I'm not protected, I'm owned."
Something dark and dangerous flashed in his eyes. "You're not owned, Cecelia. You're my wife."
"I'm a transaction!" I screamed, my voice breaking on the last word. My gaze landed on a crystal vase sitting on a side table and before I could think better of it, I grabbed it and hurled it at his feet.
The vase shattered spectacularly, shards skittering across the marble floor like ice on a frozen lake. Rafe didn't even flinch, his eyes never left my face as I stood there panting and surrounded by the evidence of my rage.
The sight of his perfect calm while I fell apart was the final straw. I turned and fled down the hallway to the master bedroom. Slamming the door behind me, I twisted the lock with trembling fingers.
A single knock came moments later.
"Go to hell!" I shouted, sliding down the door until my ass hit the floor.
My phone buzzed incessantly in my pocket—undoubtedly messages and missed calls from Evie, Izzy, probably Kate too. I pulled it out and the screen immediately lit up with notifications.
Izzy: What the actual fuck, Cece?
Evie: Please call me. We need to talk.
Evie: Are you okay? Do you need help?
Izzy: Seriously, what is going on? Call me NOW.
Unable to face their questions, their concern, their judgment, I turned the phone off. Crawling to the massive bed that still held the scent of Rafe's cologne, I curled into a ball on top of the covers and finally let the tears come.
I was married to a man I barely knew, cut off from the people I loved, trapped in a gilded cage of my own making.
What the hell had I done?