Chapter 5 – Emika
Eight Days Later
Everything happened so fast, and it felt like just yesterday that I had gone to my supposed grandfather for help. I still couldn’t believe how quickly my life had changed in less than a few days.
Today was my wedding day, but my mother wasn’t around, nor were my friends. Celine would’ve been here to support me, but she was out of town taking care of something important.
She’d tried to convince me not to go along with the wedding. But after hearing the full story, she understood why it was necessary. And although she still hated the idea, there was nothing either of us could do about it.
I was going to be married to that arrogant man with a condescending attitude and the pride of a fuckin’ peacock. Even though we’d both agreed to only stay married for a year before going our separate ways, I still couldn’t help the pain twisting in my chest.
“Smack your lips,” the makeup artist murmured, her soft voice pulling me from my reverie.
I blinked, then complied, the scent of the red lipstick drifting into my nostrils.
She adjusted the ring light directly on my face, pulling her head back as if checking out her work. “Perfect.” Her lips curved into a smile.
She stepped away from my front, allowing me to look at my reflection in the mirror. These women had completely transformed me into someone I could barely recognize.
The hairstylist did a good job revamping my dark auburn hair, turning soft curls into a delicate, intertwined halo.
“So beautiful,” one of the three professionals whispered, her voice soft and tender.
The hairstylist stepped forward and caught my eye in the mirror. “Do you like it?”
I forced a smile and nodded.
They weren’t wrong. I did look beautiful. But what use was the beauty if those who loved me weren’t here to see it?
For the first time in forever, I looked like a real woman: manicured nails, flawless lashes, fresh makeup, and revamped hair. On the surface, I was a drop-dead gorgeous diva. But deep down, I was a sad and broken woman, one whose future was about to be traded for her mother’s medical bills.
The front door opened, its quiet creak pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Mr. Beaumont,” the girls greeted him, their heads slightly bowed.
“Leave us,” he said, his voice cold as usual.
I caught his reflection in the mirror and locked my jaw. My blood was boiling with hate and anger, but I couldn’t bring myself to react.
The girls exited the room immediately, leaving just the two of us. He buried a hand in his pocket, his polished shoes scuffing against the fine floor as he marched toward me.
I gripped the edge of the table before me, my expression dark with anger and disdain.
“That look on your face reminds me of her,” he said. “Your mother.”
My grip tightened on the table’s edge.
He halted behind me, his eyes catching mine in the mirror. “She used to glare at me like that whenever I did something that didn’t sit well with her.” A soft scoff escaped his lips, and his next words were spoken barely above a whisper. “Nothing I did ever sat well with her.”
Silence. I refused to say a word. If I did, I’d either lash out or burst into tears.
“Look, I know you don’t like this,” he continued, “but can you at least pretend to be happy?”
Again, silence.
“Today’s your big day. The last thing people should see on your face is a frown.”
Of course he was more concerned about what people would say than what his granddaughter actually felt.
He glanced at his Rolex. “It’s almost time.”
Still nothing on my end.
He paused, watching my reflection in the mirror before giving a subtle nod. “Okay. Good talk.” After tapping my shoulder, he turned around and walked away. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
The second the door closed behind him, I let out a heavy sigh, as though I’d been holding my breath this whole time. I tilted my head upward, attempting to push back tears that welled in my eyes.
The last thing I wanted was to mess up my makeup. Those ladies had put in a lot of effort into transforming me into this gorgeous bride.
“You got this, Emika. You got this,” I whispered to myself.
***
The wedding took place in a small church where smiles were forced, and hearts stayed silent. Except for mine, because it wouldn’t stop hammering in my chest.
My grandfather’s elbow was locked with mine as he walked me down the aisle. The classic “Wedding Match” was playing in the background, the soft piano keys filling the room.
Heads turned as we moved, slowly and quietly. All eyes were on me—the friggin’ bride surrounded by unfamiliar faces. The closer I drew to the altar, the weaker my legs became. But I had to keep going. For the sake of my mother.
My grandfather leaned and whispered in my ear. “Smile.” He faked one himself, nodding at the crowd of seated guests.
I curved my lips into a plastic grin while still in motion. With every step I took, my heart shattered into pieces, and anxiety washed over me. I caught some murmurs amongst the guests about how pretty I looked.
One woman even whispered to a friend that she loved my ivory gown and how it hugged me in all the right places. Normally, this should’ve at least gladdened my heart and brought the faintest genuine smile on my face.
Unfortunately, I was too numb to feel anything but negative emotions. I kept my head up high and locked my jaw, refusing to let the man waiting at the altar read my expression.
He was dressed in a black tuxedo and a matching bow tie over a crisp white shirt. His face was unreadable, and his eyes wouldn’t leave mine.
When we reached the altar, my grandfather handed me over to the man he’d sold me off to and returned to his seat.
They said this was a wedding, but it wasn’t. It was a deal sealed in lace and stone.
As I stood before my groom, I looked into those pale grey eyes—cold like winter ice. We’d agreed that this marriage would only last one year because he, too, wasn’t in support of it. However, twelve months suddenly felt like eternity.
How was I going to survive that long? How was I going to manage this proud and arrogant man who, by the way, was twice my age?
He was a control freak who loved giving orders and delighted in other people’s pain. I, on the other hand, was stubborn as a mule and hated taking orders—especially from condescending men.
We were clearly incompatible, and joining us together was like activating a ticking time bomb.
When it was time to recite our vows, something strange happened. The second Adrik began spilling those words while staring at me, I felt a weird sensation. I wasn’t sure whether it was the sound of his smooth voice or the enticing look in his eyes.
Whatever it was, I didn’t like it. Neither did I like how it made me feel. However, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, the fact remained that something passed between us. Something I couldn’t name or understand.
The pull was so strong that I found my expression softening by the minute.
When the priest finally announced us husband and wife, my heart skipped a beat, knowing what he’d say next.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
My breath hitched, and my eyelids fluttered closed. I was expecting a kiss on my lips and had already steeled my body when he disappointed me. Instead of claiming my lips, he pressed a brief kiss on my forehead.
Shocked, I lifted my eyes and looked at him for a fleeting moment. A part of me was glad that he made the kiss formal and quick. However, a small part of me couldn’t help wondering why he didn’t go for my mouth.
Was he repulsed by me?
I hated myself for being bothered about what he thought of me, and so, I swiftly buried that thought. However, the warmth of his touch lingered longer than it was supposed to.
After the ceremony and the brief exchange of pleasantries with a few guests, we walked together to his black SUV. His bodyguards opened the backseat door, and we slid into the car. As the convoy drove away from the church, I sat at one end with my head against the glass.
He didn’t say a word to me all through the drive, and I was glad that he didn’t.
When we reached his mansion, the giant gates parted, revealing the vast expanse of land on the other side. The vehicle drove along the endless driveway lined with towering trees on both sides.
The estate was bigger than my grandfather’s, a perfect representation of luxury and style. We pulled up by a large fountain, across from which were about ten different exotic cars parked under a shade.
When I looked out the window, the edifice looming in front of me was jaw-dropping. The building was a massive structure with large windows glinting in the sunlight. It looked like a palace in every sense of the word, and I couldn’t help but admire the sight.
The door was opened from the outside, and I stepped out of the car, balanced on my heels. Adrik walked ahead of me, and I followed behind him.
Once inside, we were greeted by two maids in their signature black-and-white.
“Take her to her room,” he said to them, walking further into the room. “Mikhail, fetch me a glass of vodka.” He snapped his fingers at one of his men.
The maids beamed at me, their smiles raw and genuine. “Come,” one of them said, taking my hand.
They both led me up the curved staircase under the warm glow of the hanging chandelier that must’ve cost a fortune.
“My name is Natalya,” said the maid holding my hand.
Her voice was thick with a Russian accent, but also soothing in a strange kind of way. She was tall—like really tall—with beautiful green eyes and long black hair that cascaded down her back.
Natalya was a talkative young woman who spoke a lot faster than most people I’d ever met. Within a few seconds, she’d already talked about how beautiful she thought I was and had highlighted more than half of the dos and don’ts in this house.
“Can you please not bore her with too much talk?” the other lady said in accented English.
“What? She’s not complaining,” Natalya answered.
“She doesn’t have to,” came the other lady’s response, her voice calm and collected. “Sometimes you have to use your head and your sense of reasoning.”
“Did you just call me dumb?” Natalya glanced back at her.
“I’m just saying, she’s tired and needs some rest.”
At this point, I couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
By now, we were already strolling down a hallway, the walls of which were adorned with paintings and portraits.
Natalya turned to her colleague after noticing the grin on my face. “You see, unlike you, she actually finds me hilarious.”
The other lady said nothing, only rolling her eyes as though she was embarrassed by Natalya.
We reached a closed door, and the other lady withdrew a key and unlocked it.
“Here we are,” Natalya said, gesturing at the interior.
My breath hitched.
I’d never seen a room so massive before—the space was bigger than my mother’s apartment. It had a king-sized bed, modern furniture, and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.
The air smelled like roses and scented candles, and the marble floor was polished to a shine. The room was neat and sparkling clean, a space befitting royalty.
“Everything you need is in here,” the other lady said to me. “But in case you need anything else, we’re just down the hall.”
“Thank you,” I said, shifting my gaze between the two of them.
“I apologize for my sister’s behavior earlier,” she added. “She didn’t mean to overstep. Whenever she’s excited, she normally forgets she has a brain.”
“Uh…I’m standing right here, hello?” Natalya chipped in.
I laughed quietly—the very first genuine laughter I’d had in a while. “What’s your name?” I asked her.
“Hannah.”
“Nice meeting you, Hannah,” I said, then glanced at her sister. “And you too, Natalya.”
Unlike Natalya, Hannah was petite, with pale blue eyes and auburn hair tied in a neat bun on top of her head. She talked less and was much more reserved, two traits that hinted that she was older.
“Welcome to the Tarasov household, Madam.” Hannah gave a curt bow.
I managed to squeeze out a smile.
It wasn’t until after they’d left the room that I remembered this was nothing but a gilded cage. However, maybe, just maybe, these two sisters could make my stay here a little less stressful.
I finally took off my dress, and at last, I could breathe freely. I grabbed a clean towel and headed into the bathroom. After about twenty minutes of showering and thinking about the last few months of my life, I stepped out with my towel wrapped around my body.
I was barely halfway across the room when his deep, husky voice startled me.
“I see you’re settling in just fine.”
“Jesus Christ!” My hand flew to my chest. “What the hell, Adrik?!”
He was seated on a sofa beside my bed, legs crossed, exuding confidence. “How do you like your new home?”
I glared at him. “I don’t.”
He hesitated, his expression still as blank as a sheet of paper.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, my hands covering my chest as if to conceal the breasts under the soft fabric of my towel. “The contract says—”
“I know what the contract says,” he cut me off. “I wrote it.”
My throat bobbled, and my heart began hammering in my chest. I wasn’t sure why he was here or what he was up to, and I couldn’t stop my racing pulse.
He must’ve noticed my anxiety because after staring at me for less than two seconds, a mocking smirk appeared on his lips. “Relax,” he said, rising to his feet.
I watched him button up his jacket and step closer to me.
“I only stopped by to make sure that you’re settled in.” He paused, his eyes pinned on me. “Our marriage is only on paper, and as such, we’ll be sleeping in separate rooms.”
Honestly, I was grateful for this because I couldn’t imagine myself sharing his bed. Not because I didn’t find him attractive, but because it would just be weird.
He halted in front of me, his expensive cologne invading my senses. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid of sleeping all by yourself.” He flashed me that pesky little smirk of his.
I stared at him, struggling to push back the crazy thoughts creeping into my head. Why on earth was I picturing him naked, for Christ’s sake?
“I’ll be fine,” I said, clearing my throat. “Thank you.”
“It’s your loss,” he teased, his expression softening by a whisper. “See you at the office tomorrow, 8:00 a.m. sharp. Not a second later.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving me standing in the middle of the room. That quiet, mocking smirk of his stayed with me long after he was gone. And that was how I knew this was going to be a lot tougher than I’d thought.