Chapter 11 – Mark
“A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.” – Charles Spurgeon
We lay on the bed, still breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling, she hidden under the silk sheets and I, stretched out with one arm under my head, stark naked. From the periphery, I saw her eyelids flutter as if she didn’t want to look at me.
The corners of my mouth ticked upward, and I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.
She was fucking adorable, with her messy hair and her just-fucked look: Swollen lips, and red bite marks on her body. A sense of pride swelled inside me. I’d done that. Marked her. Made her mine. Although, I already had plans underway to make it official. I wondered what her reaction would be after I told her the news.
She tossed beneath the sheets and finally turned to me with a small grin on her face. Her eyes sparkled in the light, and she fidgeted with her fingers.
“So …,” she cleared her throat, “You speak French.”
I turned my head to the side to get a full view of her body. I knew she had a lot of questions in her head, but I found it surprising that she wanted to talk about my language skills.
I nodded.
“Yes, and of course Russian, English, Spanish, which you also know—and a little Mandarin.” I hummed. “I’m multilingual.”
I could see a smile forming on her cheeks, but I didn’t want to sit around talking about languages. There were more important things to talk about.
“That’s impressive. You know, I’m partly Latina, and I don’t even speak much span—”
“We’re getting married in a few weeks.”
She choked on her words, her eyes widened, and she stared at me as if several bombs had exploded simultaneously. She clutched the sheets to her chest, straightened up, and furrowed her brows.
“What are you talking about? Who’s getting married?”
I kicked my legs off the bed and strutted to the closet, picking out a pair of shorts. “We are, you and me, hermosa.”
Her chest rose and fell and the shock in her eyes turned to concern. She mumbled something to herself, not realizing that I was hearing every word. And when I heard his name from her lips, my blood boiled.
“What about Logan and our engagement? What should I do about it? Throw it all away as if it meant nothing. As if it never existed. No ... Never.”
When she looked up at me, it was like she’d figured it out. “The measurements at C’est Magnifique. Maeva knew.” After a minute of silence, she shook her head. “No.”
Funny, how she thought she had a say in this. “I didn’t ask,” I said sharply.
“But you can’t do that!”
I grabbed a pack of cigarettes and took out a stick. Struck a lighter under it and pulled it back as the stub glowed merrily. “Tut, tut, tut. Such a slow learner.” I exhaled. “In case you haven’t noticed, I get to do whatever the hell I want.”
With visible anger, she got off the bed with the sheets wrapped around her body, she snapped at me. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m engaged to a man who loves me very, very—”
I struck the chest of drawers with my fist, and she stopped immediately. I was angry, for reasons I couldn’t even recognize. But one thing was for sure: I didn’t want to hear about that fucker Mercer.
“Don’t be so fucking blind, Addison.” How could she not see his true nature, the fucking, slithering snake under the suit and the blue eyes? “Be fucking smart. If he fucking loved you that much, he would have given himself up for you long ago. He doesn’t care about you; he doesn’t care if I fuck your beautiful body ...”
“Stop.”
“Or torture you ...”
“Please, stop.”
“Or sell you off to pigs ...”
“Stop!”
“Get it in that pretty head of yours; your fiancé is a selfish son of a bitch that only looks out for himself.”
Her grip on the sheets tightened and tears ran down her cheeks. My words were harsh and cold. But they were facts and nothing else. Fuck her if she couldn’t handle the truth.
She trembled, a floodgate opened, she let it all out, and her shoulders shook violently. But I ignored her. And the painful squeeze in my chest as I watched her crying.
To distract myself from the unpleasant constriction of my lungs, I rolled my eyes and took a long drag on the cigarette.
White puffy clouds escaped when I spoke. “Spare us both the drama and get ready to be a bride. The news will be officially announced soon and then I’ll have to double the number of men to protect you. I have enemies. I don’t want anyone to take my bride away from me as I took you away from your loving groom, who, if I remember correctly, saved his own ass that night and left you behind.”
I laughed. And she gave me a disgusted look. “This was never about me, was it? I was just a pawn in this game, and I played right into your hands, didn’t I?”
I stayed silent.
She stomped to the door and yanked it open. She gave me one last look, the blazing flames hotter than a fiery furnace and then she huffed.
“I hate you, Mark Varkov.”
Her bitterness and hatred cut through the air like a butcher’s knife through a pea pod. And it penetrated deeper than I had expected. But when I turned toward her, a lazy grin appeared on my lips. I motioned toward her with the cigarette.
“And you make a good fuck, Addison Mae.”
Her lips quivered and more tears streamed down her cheeks. And without another word, she marched out and slammed the door.
Eerie silence replaced the fading sound of her footsteps and cold displaced the warmth we had shared only minutes ago.
I exhaled smoky clouds.
I”ve been in this business for over twenty-five years and have never regretted an action.
But then Addison Mae came along, and now I felt like I’d been punched in the fucking gut.