Chapter 2
2
CELIA
I stood at the edge of the massive bedroom that I was going to share with Gabriel.
Because he didn’t trust me.
Because he was insane.
Because I was going to be his wife in two days.
I wandered around the room. “What time is the seamstress coming?”
“Why? Do you have somewhere to be?” Then he added, “Two o’clock.”
“Thank you.” I opened the curtains, just trying to find something to do with my hands, to keep moving. Golden light flooded the room.
He looked up from his work. “Do you ever stop moving?”
“I’m sorry. The last few days have just been…intense.” I chewed my lower lip. “And I guess I’m nervous.”
“Mm-hmm. Fascinating.”
“I realize that marrying me doesn’t mean anything to you, that…”
“Let’s not pretend that it means anything to you either, except a way away from Royal.” He put down his pen for a moment, considering. “Does your father know how Royal treats you?”
My breath froze in my chest. I wasn’t used to answering questions about the way my family treated me, and I could hardly believe that he, of all people, cared.
His magnetic-blue gaze searched mine, and I swallowed. It seemed impossible not to answer him when he asked a question. The commanding force of his presence was just too much. “Yes.”
“I see.” He looked back down to his work, and I inhaled, as if I’d been under a spell and was finally released to breathe again.
“Can I see Luca and Dante?”
He scoffed. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to be my wife, not theirs.” He drummed his fingertips on the tabletop. I had the feeling it was a tell for him, but of what? “I wouldn’t want my men to think that you are disloyal to me.”
“Because that would look bad,” I scoffed. “Not because you care.”
“Quite.”
Well, at least they were all right for right now. The conversation with the doctor had been brief but it seemed promising.
There was a knock at the door. I glanced at him curiously. Should I go answer that? Was I even allowed to?
“Come in,” he called curtly.
One of his men entered the room. He cast a wary look at me. “I’ve got some intel.”
“Go ahead.” Gabriel leaned back in his chair, and when the man didn’t speak, he asked, “Is this intel about her family, Marcus?”
He nodded.
“I appreciate discretion, but while Celia isn’t loyal to me, she’s not loyal to anyone else either. You can speak openly in front of her.”
It would have been a touching sentiment, especially accompanied by the smile that he gave me. Except the smile was a cold, dangerous one that didn’t reach his eyes. He added, “After all, she is going to be my wife. It’s my job to keep her under control.”
Was it possible to rise in a criminal organization without being a misogynistic asshole? It seemed hard to imagine.
“Yes, sir. Well, it seems that Mal Carmichael is making some deals which would render your agreement with him far less valuable. He’s been offering his business for sale.”
“I see,” Gabriel said.
Fear shot through me.
“Oh, don’t be so nervous, Celia.” Gabriel’s voice startled me; he’d never even glanced in my way to see my reaction. Don’t tell me that’s the only value you think you offer.”
I looked at his man, reluctant to say anything that might seem like a comeback in front of anyone else. I’d been about to say that I was keenly aware of my own worth. I just didn’t trust that he saw it the same way.
The man gave Gabriel the rundown on just what my father was planning. Apparently, he wasn’t fully distracted with his war with Moriah’s family. He was still working all kinds of deals, giving away pieces of his arms dealing, offering up the rights to various things to different parties.
“And how far, if at all have any of these deals gone through yet?” Gabriel asked.
“Not very that we know of so far. Everyone’s a little wary to get involved at the moment.”
“Interesting,” Gabriel said.
It was. I wondered if people were reluctant to get involved because they’d be on the wrong side of Moriah’s family or because they didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Gabriel.
I wanted to know how Gabriel had rebuilt so much of his family’s power so quickly.
It seemed like every woman was interested in him, and I wondered if he ever spent much time at the club where I had always been tucked away into that daughters’ lounge.
Since he had risen to prominence in this town, he must be very well acquainted with the Obsidian. That was where so many deals were made. Where bonds were cemented over questionable dealings and even more questionable life choices. The thought of Gabriel touching someone else shouldn’t matter to me, but it sent a pang through my body.
Maybe it was just because of the hypocrisy. Because he certainly intended that I’d never touch Dante for him to trace letters on my palm or feel Luca’s soft lips and heavy hands.
When Marcus handed over a folder, Gabriel thanked him politely. I didn’t want to like anything about Gabriel. But the polite way he spoke to his men struck me. Royal was always a shit to everyone. Even my father sometimes found it embarrassing, though he was the one who had made Royal.
There was another knock on the door, but this time, it was Patricia summoning me to meet the seamstress. I glanced at Gabriel uncertainly.
“You’re my wife,” he said, without looking up. “Or at least, you will be. You don’t have to ask for permission for everything you do. I’ll find it tiresome.”
“Okay. Thank you.” I felt a genuine rush of gratitude at the thought of having more freedom.
But I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t going to try to leave the property, or snoop, or do anything else that might trigger his suspicion.
Or that might trigger a trap. It wouldn’t surprise me if he wanted to see what exactly I would do with some freedom.
In fact, as he slid the file into one of his desk drawers, I wondered if that information was a trap, if he would see if it got back to my father. Maybe none of it was real. Maybe he just wanted me off balance and afraid, nervous about what might happen after the loss of my dowry. After all, that was the only reason he was marrying me.
Wasn’t it?
For now, I went to see the seamstress. I might be an unwilling bride, but I could still be a beautiful one.
When I had finally finished with the seamstress, who also had me try on an array of other clothes at Gabriel’s request, I returned to the bedroom.
Gabriel’s absence was heavy in the air when I stepped inside. He had such a powerful presence, and the lack of him was somehow disappointing and a relief all at once.
I stepped back out into the hall and looked at the closed door. Luca and Dante might still be just on the other side.
But our situation was far too fragile at the moment, given that Gabriel had made it clear he didn’t want me to see Dante and Luca. I would bide my time.
Instead, I went downstairs and wandered through the rooms, trying to chart out the labyrinth of his huge house, before I found my way into the kitchen. As I reached the doors, I could hear voices. I hesitated in the doorway, catching a glimpse of Patricia and a blond woman in a chef’s jacket, who were talking cheerfully.
Before I could back away, they saw me. All conversation broke off.
A wave of embarrassment washed over me. It was uncomfortable to be the grim reaper of conversation.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said.
“You’re not interrupting, ma’am. This is your home. I’m Elaine, your chef.” She smiled at me. “We were just preparing a meal. Mr. Caruso likes for us to leave him a plate for when he returns home. On no one’s schedule.” Her smile widened sympathetically. “Good luck with that.”
They both laughed, and I had to wonder if they thought this arrangement was actually a love match or if they were just kind enough to pretend as if it were one.
Didn’t everyone know that Gabriel didn’t want to marry me? We had a marriage of convenience. Though that convenience was probably rapidly dwindling after he had to chase me down, and now my father was trying to make my dowry worthless to him.
“Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes. May we serve you in the dining room, ma’am?”
“Thank you,” I said gratefully, but I actually felt a little lost and sad to go sit alone in the expansive dining room.
I took a seat in the luxurious dining room. Patio doors stood open to the garden, and the scent of flowers on the breeze mingled with the scent of the delicious meal that Elaine set in front of me. She gave me a smile, then left.
Far in the distance, I heard laughter again in the kitchen.
I wished I could talk to Moriah, Natalie, and Kara. Together, I had no doubt we could figure out how to turn this whole situation to our advantage. We had spent so long carefully crafting our plans.
I wondered what had happened to my phone, which had passed through both Luca’s and Dante’s hands before it was lost while we were being hunted.
And I wished I could sit down with them. I’d rather eat a granola bar with them than this fancy meal.
My knife scraped over the plate as I cut into the delicious-smelling steak. Even though I was in a beautiful setting, I found myself thinking back to when I was a child. I’d often sat alone, my legs swinging at a table too tall for me, as I ate my meal alone.
I didn’t have many memories of family meals before my mother died, because I’d been so young. After that, our nanny separated Royal and me for meals, because she grew so tired of the way he’d pick at me and the way I’d cry.
I’d spent almost my entire life lonely. There was no reason for me to feel so sad and wistful right now. Being lonely was fine; being safe was what mattered.
I didn’t eat much before I picked up my plate and wine glass and carried them back into the kitchen.
Patricia and the cook had been joined by several more staff, and they were laughing around the table. They jumped up when I came in.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. We’d be happy to clean up after you before we headed out,” Elaine told me with a smile, intercepting my plate on my way to the sink.
“Oh, you don’t stay on the grounds?” I asked.
“Oh, no. Mr. Caruso likes his privacy. He doesn’t even have us all in every day.”
“Oh, I see.” Obviously, these people were loyal to Gabriel if they were loyal to anyone, but still, it seemed a little lonelier and scarier being in this house without any potential witnesses.
Needing witnesses is probably a sign it’s not going to be a happy marriage.