Chapter 30
Emily glowered at Nicolas like he’d be her future victim.
He couldn’t help it. There was no way he’d meet her parents and not introduce himself. Truthfully. What difference would it make between now and a few months?
If anything, they would have given him shit for keeping it from them. He couldn’t afford that, he wanted to leave a good impression on them. After all, they were the people who birthed Emily. The strong, capricious, and borderline murderous woman who was his wife.
She looked one second away from gouging his eyes out with a spoon. And yet, somehow, she still looked beautiful.
So beautiful.
She’d given all the hints to not tell them they were married.
Emily had avoided his gaze, her fingers twisting the edge of her dress as if the fabric might calm her. Then she’d paused like she’d remembered it was a bad habit, her hands removing themselves. She’d shifted in her chair, lips pressing tight, her eyes darting toward him with a plea not to speak.
It had burned him.
That feeling had drowned out everything else, even the part of him that usually only acted when she gave permission.
He had brought her into his family, flaws and all, without hesitation. Why, then, did she shrink away from the thought of doing the same?
Wait.
Was she…embarrassed by him?
Nicolas stared her straight in the eyes.
There was no fucking way…
He tried to detect a sign of it.
Nothing.
Then what was it?
Her foot shot out and struck his shin beneath the table. His grunt couldn’t be suppressed. The pain was immediate, but the shock was greater.
Did she just—
She sat there calmly, her face not revealing anything.
Such a petty little thing.
Emily’s parents never took their eyes off her during these theatrics.
“What do you mean that you’re married?”
It was her father who asked that. This was the first time he’d spoken since he’d arrived other than the noncommittal hums his wife dragged out of him during their mundane talk. His tone was gruff and hostile.
“I…” Emily trailed off.
Nicolas didn’t feel guilty about what he’d done. Her parents deserved to know that she’d gotten married.
Albeit, it would’ve been better if she had been the one who broke the news to them.
“I am,” she finally divulged. “Nicolas is my husband.”
The title rolling off her tongue sparked something inside of him. Just like it had done in the room back in Italy. In the dim lights where he’d found out just how incredible his self-restraint was.
“We got married almost three months ago.”
A pin could have fallen on the floor, and it still would have been heard.
Her father stood, the chair he sat in flying at a distance behind him. Without a glance in anyone's direction, he walked away from the table and out the yawning doors.
Nicolas’s eyes found Emily’s face. She looked like her heart had shriveled up like a dried apricot within her chest. Her eyes blinked excessively, as if she was fighting the urge to cry.
His fingers twitched to soothe her.
But did he dare to? He was the cause of this. At least to some extent.
Her mother’s face became downcast, wrinkles more visible than before. “Don’t worry. He’ll come around.” Her voice was uncertain, however. “He’s just shocked, that’s all.”
When Juliet’s eyes found Nicolas, they offered a welcoming smile. “Congratulations on your marriage. I apologize on my husband’s behalf. Please understand that this is the first time we’re hearing about this.”
“No, it’s our fault for not informing you earlier.”
She nodded. “I hope there’ll be a chance to have a more enjoyable meal. Take care of Emily, will you?”
Juliet gave her daughter one last encouraging look before leaving.
Nicolas’s eyes weighed Emily’s face. It’d gone pale. His least favorite look on her. He’d said he didn’t regret what he’d done, but with each passing minute, he second-guessed himself.
He made a flimsy attempt at a joke. “Why, by all means, doesn’t he have a regal bearing?”
He hoped the old royalty joke from when they were younger would land, but it didn’t.
Emily didn’t laugh. His comment simply sank in the weight of the atmosphere.
Realizing that this was affecting her more than he’d expected, he turned to face her. “Emily—”
“Do you think this is funny?”
Nicolas sealed his lips. Something told him that if he said anything else, things would become worse than they already were.
“When I met you, I felt like my world was falling apart. You agreed to a crazy request of mine and I thought that maybe—just maybe, you’d been as desperate as I was.
I mean, which newly appointed CEO would give up their position because of something like marriage?
Living under the same roof with you made me…
grateful. I started to think this thing could actually work out.
Sharing meals, finding a rhythm in our days.
...it’s given me a sense of peace I haven’t had in a really long time. ”
He felt his heart stir at her honesty.
Her words were a breath of fresh air, though they sounded as if they’d taken her last breath to speak them.
“But how can you make fun of something like this?”
This was what he’d always feared. Him pushing her to the edge.
With that dumb joke, Nicolas thought he was winding a music box to coax out a smile, but instead, he’d yanked the pin from a grenade.
Her eyes were fixed on him, but they were nothing like he’d grown to admire. They no longer twinkled; the light in them was absent.
It made him feel nauseous.
There was growing disenchantment as she went on.
“You clearly saw that I didn’t want to tell them about our marriage so suddenly.
Yet, you did so anyway. Can you imagine how hurt they must’ve been to find out that I got married?
I haven’t spoken to them in years—except for my Mother today—and this is what they receive?
A slap in the face that their daughter got married without them know—”
“But you did,” Nicolas interrupted sharply.
She flinched.
He hated it.
“You did get married without them knowing. And from what I’ve heard, you would’ve done the same with Mallion. You were pretty confident this would be fine when we first met so don’t try to pin the blame on me.”
“What did you just say? You think I’m pinning the blame on you? You really think that’s all this is?”
“You had roughly three months to tell them if it bothered you so much. Even if your decision about our marriage was influenced by revenge because of what that bastard did to you, you still had plenty of time to inform them of it.” His eyes narrowed at her skeptically.
“Or is it because you never planned on doing so?”
Her eyes widened, a flicker of panic flashing before she looked away, shoulders curling inward.
So my suspicions have been right all along.
“Emily…” Nicolas chuckled darkly. “Did you truly plan on breaking the contract early so that you wouldn’t have to tell them about the marriage at all?”
He suspected that had to have been a consideration of hers. She had enough money to make it happen. Divorcing him after she’d dealt with Mallion. After she’d thrown the fact in his face that she’d gotten married. Married but not to him.
Knowing that it was Nicolas, Mallion’s ego would’ve been too bruised to let anyone else know. The secret would have probably been swept under the rug. Either that or publicized out of spite, but that did more harm to Mallion than good on a comparative level so it was a low probability.
But that was the cause of this arrangement in the first place, wasn’t it? To be this little actress’s husband. Mallion’s karma for breaking her heart.
But where did that leave me?
The sudden thought struck him like a lightning bolt. Nicolas knew that growing attached to his fake wife was entirely his burden to bear. A reckless indulgence. Borderline idiotic.
The warning signs in his head didn’t stand a chance though. She’d crashed into him, like a perfect strike during a Friday night bowling game. All he could do was surrender to the collision.
But if she was the one who’d knocked him off his feet, what was that guilty expression she was wearing? Or was it pity? He didn’t know which one was worse.
Emily swallowed harshly. “I-I…”
She fumbled over her words, so unsure of herself for the first time since they’d met.
What a fool he’d been to think she cared about what he needed out of this marriage.
She was only using him.
Just like they’d agreed upon when they’d signed the marriage contract. And just like he’d feared when he’d suspected she had more to gain from this.