35. Conrad
I can still see it. Can still hear it. Her moans. The way she got off on it.
My little wife is a sadist, she just doesn’t realise it yet.
My lips quirk as I think of how I’m going to continue to bring that part of her out, how I’m going to tease it out. Turn her into my little monster. She’ll be the perfect match for me.
“You seem happy today, husband,”
That smile instantly dies. I scowl, looking at the witch now standing beside me.
“Don’t call me that.” I snarl as quietly as I can. I don’t want to draw attention to us, not with so many damned beady little eyes around.
Giselle glances about, that fake smile still plastered on her face as she tucks her hand into my arm. “But you are my husband, it’s predetermined.” She says.
Her nails dig into my suit, I shrug to get her off and she digs in tighter.
We’re at a rally. Nothing too big, but big enough that Magnus has demanded my presence. From the outside this race is meant to look like it’s all above board, but we know that the Esau are doing everything they can to swing it their way.
As if we’d let them. As if we, the Blakes, would simply roll over and give up.
“So, what is it that has you so content?” She purrs.
Now, that would be telling. I meet her gaze, so close to laughing in her heavily made-up face. The day she finds out what’s really happened, she’s going to hit the roof. As will Quinn. But by then my little wife will be pregnant, and no one will be able to do a thing to fight this.
I roll my eyes, ignoring the desperation in her voice.
“You know,” she continues, “We need to start planning this thing, seeing as it’s only a few months away.”
Over my dead body. I clench my hands, trying not to react to the obvious tease in her voice.
“I want it in the Cathedral,” She states, turning to face me full on. “I want everyone to be there and to witness as we consummate it.”
An image of her, of my real wife spread out on the altar flashes before my eyes, and I feel the annoyance again that our wedding was in private. That I couldn’t hold her up for everyone to know she was off-limits and untouchable.
“…seeing as your brother might be Chapter Lord, I think it’s only fitting.”
“Might?” I repeat. Like it’s a maybe.
She smiles more, as if she’s flirting. “It’s not a done deal yet.” She says, reaching up to straighten my tie, even though it’s already perfectly straight.
“Don’t touch me.” I growl under my breath.
“No? But you could touch me,” She says, battering her eyelids. “I haven’t even seen you since…”
I know what she’s alluding to. Who she’s alluding to.
I shrug her off and go to get a drink, only the bitch follows me.
“I’d almost think something of it.” She murmurs, taking her own glass and sipping it. “I’d almost think you were avoiding me. But why would that be?”
“Yes, why?” I reply, letting my sarcasm hang there.
She scans my face for a second. “Did you have something to do with her disappearance?”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on, the girl doesn’t have the brains to pull something like this off. She was too stupid to run away and not get caught. So, either she’s dead in a ditch and we haven’t found her, or she had help…”
“And you think I’m involved?” I reply.
She smirks. “You did seem to watch her so very much.”
“It beat looking at her aunt.” I snarl, not caring if she hears the hate in my voice or not.
“You think she was prettier than me?” She hisses.
I drag my eyes over her; seeing that heavily made-up face, the way she’s spent hours styling her hair and that dress, the way it clings to her body in a way that screams desperation, not seduction.
She takes in a long, deep, pissed off drag of air, and then turns on her ridiculously high heels and struts away.
“What the fuck was that about?”
I groan as my brother comes to stand beside me. How he managed to sneak up I don’t know, but it can’t be a good thing to have his undivided attention at this moment.
“Lovers tiff.” I mutter.
He raises his eyebrows looking at the figure still storming away.
“Where is she?” He asks.
“Who?”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
Fuck, I hate that tone. I hate the way he still thinks he can parent me, even though we’re way fucking past that point in our lives. I turn to look at him, and he glares at me for a second.
“Oh no you didn’t.” He says, as if he can read on my face everything I’ve done over the last god knows how many weeks.
“Didn’t what?”
He grabs my shirt, pulling me in so that we’re nose to nose. Neither of us are particularly small men. “Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”
“You wanted an heir, Magnus.” I state.
He shoves me back, shaking his head, then lands a punch before I can even see him swing his arm. As he goes to punch me again, I dodge it but Liliana is there, stepping between us.
“What is this?” She says. “Magnus, stop,”
“Don’t you tell me to stop, woman.” He snarls back.
She narrows her eyes, glancing over at the crowd. I don’t care what they think, but I know my brother will.
He takes a long deep breath, straightening his suit. “You will bring her to me. You will both be at my house this evening.”
“Or what?” I ask.
He glares at me, giving me a look only the way Magnus can. “Be there, or that girl will no longer be an issue for any of us.”
I know that’s not an empty threat. It’s partly why we’ve been hiding at my house, why I had her face concealed so well at Oblivion. Until it’s official, this marriage is precarious and this man here, my brother, he holds the keys to my future. As much as I fucking hate it.
“We’ll be there.” I mutter. “It’s about time my wife met all the in-laws.”
“Wife?” He repeats and I let out a chuckle, taunting him more before I walk off. He can think whatever he likes about that.