Chapter 45
45
I get the luxury of staying at Cernach’s prison of a mansion tonight.
After the engagement dinner, my mom left in my car with Lanie, and I rode here with my aunt and grandmother. During the drive, my grandmother, who I’ve only met twice, asked me if I was going to lose weight when it was time for my wedding.
I can’t wait to get the fuck out of Boston.
Cernach has stained it for me indefinitely.
I tried to tell them I’d stay in a hotel, but Cernach refused. Probably thought I’d make a run for it.
So, now, I’m here, a princess trapped in the dark castle, waiting for Prince Charming to save me. Only first, he needs to stop by Cernach’s office and sign a contract.
I’m flipping through possible Netflix movies to watch when my phone vibrates with a text.
Damien: Let me in.
My pulse charges in my throat.
I flick my attention from the two-story window to the door.
Let him in from where?
Is he being metaphorical, like let him back into my life ?
Or literal, like open something?
I jump out of bed at the light knock on the door.
My head buzzes as I tiptoe toward the door and crack it open. As soon as it’s ajar an inch, Damien forces it open and walks inside. I stare at him warily while he shuts the door with his heel and locks it.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. “Cernach has cameras all over this place.”
I lost count of how many I noticed while walking upstairs.
Damien breezily walks toward the closet like no big deal and opens it.
“How did you even get up here?”
“Cernach invited me.” He jerks clothing Cernach provided for me off the hangers and tosses them on the bed.
“Cernach invited you?” I repeat slowly.
Cool as a cucumber, he draws out a bottle of his signature cologne from his blazer pocket. I lose track of my train of thought when he starts spraying the clothing and bed.
And by spray, I mean, absolutely dousing them.
I cough as the scent inundates the room.
“What the hell are you doing?” I question around another cough.
I eye him in suspicion as he stalks toward me. He stares down at me, his eyes intense, and without saying a word, he moves his spray-a-thon to me.
He sprays my hair first, then my neck, and then down my body until hitting my bare feet.
While it’s potent as hell, I breathe in the smell.
It reminds me of waking up next to him.
That smell accompanied every shared hug, kiss, lovemaking.
It smells like home .
“There,” he says, smoothing his hand over my hair as if I’m a finished product. “That should do. ”
“That should do what?” I raise my shoulder and smell myself.
His dark eyes coast down my body, as if making certain he didn’t miss a spot.
He doesn’t speak until he’s finished his inspection. “If you’re around any other man in Boston, you’ll smell like me.” He smirks in satisfaction. “I’m a man who likes to mark his territory.” He inches closer, lowers his head, and runs his lips along my jawline. “And you, Pippa, are my goddamn territory.” Stepping back, he buttons his blazer. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you back to New York.”
“I’m not riding home with you,” I correct, crossing my arms as he eases around me. “Igor is taking me back.”
“If I say I’m taking you home tomorrow, I’m taking you home.” He knocks his knuckles against the door. “Lock this behind me. Have dreams of how good I eat your pussy. Good night, my sweet dancer.”
While I’ll publicly take it to my grave I didn’t say this, I slept pretty damn well last night.
Cernach might be a grade-A asshole, but he didn’t skimp on providing comfortable sleeping arrangements for his visitors.
I woke up this morning in a cloud of Damien’s scent. It was just as strong as when I’d gone to bed. I took a thirty-minute shower, but his scent still lingers on my skin and hair. Just like he wanted it.
He accomplished his goal of marking his territory .
When I walked into the foyer, every house employee I passed turned up their noses, sniffing the air.
The housekeeper knocked on my door early this morning and told me to report to the sunroom for breakfast .
While I expected a room full of people, Riona is alone at the table, eating. An entire breakfast spread is situated across the table. My stomach rumbles as I take in all my options.
Riona peers up at me and smiles. “Good morning, Pippa.”
After dinner, she went out with her bridesmaids, so we didn’t have a chance to talk. She’d invited me to go with them, but I politely declined. She continued to stay quiet during dinner, sat straight in her chair with the perfect posture, and anytime she did speak, it was spoken with elegant grace.
“Good morning,” I say, moving into the room, uncertain how to start this conversation. It’d be nice to know how much she knows about my history with Damien—or even if she knows anything.
“I suppose now’s a good time for us to chat.” She takes a bite of her omelet and sets her fork to the side of her plate.
A breeze floats through the open double doors that show off a gorgeous flower garden. The sound of fountains flow through the air. Awkwardness follows me as I take the chair across from her.
“Pippa, you know how my father is,” she says, jumping straight to the point. “Even if I told him I didn’t want to marry Damien, it wouldn’t matter.”
“Did you tell him you didn’t want to marry Damien?” I reach across the table, grab the orange juice carafe, and pour myself a glass.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Do you want to marry him?”
“Not necessarily.” Sighing, she adjusts her dress strap. “I know you and Damien were involved before, though I’m unsure how serious. Men in my family don’t love their wives, so I’m not expecting that from him. My father could’ve chosen a worse man.” She offers me a soothing smile. “Igor is nice too. He’d make a decent husband.”
My shoulders slump as I take a sip of orange juice. “Isn’t that sad, though?” I ask over the rim. “That you don’t expect your husband to love you?”
A brief silence passes as she peers down at the table, scraping her French-manicured nail over the cloth. “You know, when I heard stories of your mom and you growing up, I was jealous.”
Unsure of how to reply, I wait for her to continue.
“You were able to escape this world,” she says with sadness. “But now, I’ve learned none of us ever escape it. This world waits until it’s ready for us and then sucks us in. Your shackles were loosened until they had a use for you.”
She smooths out her napkin on her lap before bunching it in her hand and placing it on the table. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“What’s that?” I ask as she stands.
“Please don’t fuck my husband.”
She doesn’t say another word while leaving the room.
I’m still in the sunroom when Cernach storms inside. His footsteps are so heavy that the floor rattles. The man who follows him around, who I learned last night is Odhrán, is behind him.
“Igor can no longer take you out for the day,” he snaps, his face red as he grips his phone tight. “ Someone blew up his goddamn car last night. Be thankful he’s not dead.”
I try to hold it back, but there’s no stopping my lips from curling into a smile.
“Don’t gloating, you little bitch.” He points his phone toward me. “We know exactly who did this.” An evil smirk spreads across his grim face. “I know just the news that’ll wipe that smile off your cunt face.”
I don’t ask him what the news is.
I only stare straight ahead .
The news won’t be good.
I’d rather walk home on foot than hear whatever this news is.
The cords in his neck move. “You won’t be smirking long when you learn Riona is pregnant with Damien’s baby.”
I recoil in the chair, a wave of dizziness hitting me.
My stomach churns, the threat of my pancakes coming back up strong.
“Oh, it seems Damien forgot to tell you about that other contract he signed.” He snorts dismissively. “Not too confident anymore, are you, whore?”
I stare down at the knife on the table.
God, how good it’d feel to stab it into that neck of his.
Into his mouth so he’ll shut the hell up.
His eyes narrow, and he stands there, unmoving, like a man who feeds from other’s pain.
“Since your date is no longer able to take you out, you can call for a ride or walk for all I care,” he says before charging out of the room.
I gag, vomit threatening to make its way up, and push my plate away.
It takes me a moment to catch my breath before I slam my napkin on the table and stand. “Fuck this.”
Fleeing the room, I dash up the stairs. I collect my phone as soon as I’m in the guest room, rip off the clothes from the hangers, and throw them across the room. I’m not wearing anything this evil-ass family provides me.
“I need to get out of here,” I say between panicked pants.
“You won’t be smirking long when you learn Riona is pregnant with Damien’s baby.”
Nausea swirls in my stomach each time I repeat those words to myself.
She can’t be pregnant yet.
Cernach would lose his shit if they consummated their marriage without saying their vows first.
The other contract he signed .
Just like he agreed to marry Riona, he’s also agreed to knock her up.
My phone vibrates on the bed.
I snatch it to find a text on the screen.
Damien: I heard you need a ride to NY. You can ride with me now. I’ll be there in 45.
Forty-five minutes.
That’s how much time I have to get out of here.
I’m not riding back to New York with him.
I wince while putting on my heels from last night. It’ll be a bitch, walking in these, but it’s an uncomfortableness I’ll deal with. I hurriedly open the Uber app on my phone and book a ride.
Cernach isn’t in sight as I rush out of the house. As I walk outside and down the drive, I feel guns and eyes on me. No one attempts to stop me, but I’m sure I look like a hot mess, doing the walk of shame.
It takes me ten minutes to reach the gate. A guard approaches me, giving my body a once-over in approval.
“Where are you going?” he asks in a thick Irish accent, hitching his gun over his shoulder. “Bad news for ya. The closest Starbucks is a forty-minute walk.”
Don’t flip him off.
Don’t give him attitude .
I tuck my hands in front of me and sweeten my tone. “Can you give me a ride?” I practically stole my tone from Riona from breakfast.
“Fuck no,” he automatically says, tugging on his hoop earring. “I take orders from Cernach, and last I checked, you’re not him.”
Another man approaches us. “You suck my dick, I’ll take you.” He thrusts his hips forward and gives me a crooked-tooth smile.
I swat my hand through the air. “Just open the gate, please.”
“Are you allowed to leave?” Hoop Earrings asks before pulling a radio from his pocket. “No one comes and goes without his permission.” He hits a button on his radio and speaks into it. “Dark-haired woman, wearing a sexy pink dress, is asking to leave.”
“She’s good,” a staticky voice says on the other end.
Hoop Earrings peers at me. “Have a nice walk. Your feet will hurt in those shoes.”
As soon as I’m outside the gates, I sit on the ground. Hoop Earrings was right. No way am I walking miles in these heels. I’ll have my driver pick me up here. I just couldn’t stay inside Cernach’s walls any longer.
My Uber driver, Fred, moved the air vent in his face when I slid into his car. He’s hardly said a word since picking me up at Cernach’s gates.
I am grateful he arrived in twenty minutes, giving me plenty of time to flee before Damien arrives at Cernach’s.
Damien even going to Cernach’s is risky. It’s obvious he blew up Igor’s car, and as a man who grew up in the mob, he knows how dangerous pissing off a mob boss is.
Cernach is a brutal leader.
I pluck my AirPods into my ears and select my favorite Halsey song. Shutting my eyes, I relax my head back and brainstorm on ways to elude all these crazy men in my life.
I need to get out of New York.
That much is clear.
My decision is made, and I start plotting in my head .
My body slams forward at the impact of Fred slamming on his brakes.
I remove an AirPod as Fred yells, “Whoa! Whoa!”
I scramble forward and look out the windshield. A black SUV is parked in the middle of the road with its driver’s side door open, blocking all traffic.
My body freezes when the back door opens.
“You know you can’t run from me,” the masculine voice says.