Chapter 2
T he weather, like my emotions, was a blizzard. Standing in front of a mirror, I tugged at the long sleeves of my white gown to hide the bruises my father had given me as my something blue. Applying another layer of powder and blush, I hoped it would be enough to hide my black eye. Under it all I was broken.
Father had shown me exactly how I was to be treated when I didn’t obey the man of the house the minute we got home that night. Every lash, every strike, every kick and punch he gave me was a reminder not to embarrass him in front of anyone ever again. To not disobey his orders. To not back talk, to not disagree, to do nothing but smile and nod.
Those were his words. I was to be the perfect little doll, submissive and quiet, for him and for all men. Especially my husband. He didn’t hesitate to show me the kind of treatment that was waiting for me after the wedding if I even blinked the wrong way during the ceremony.
So I did what I thought was best for my survival. I bit down, making a silent vow to pay back the hurt he had caused me. Burrowing my feelings deep under the surface, I pinned my veil up and put on a happy bride smile. The image in the mirror was not my own, but it was the one who stepped out of the bathroom and marched down the marriage bureau hallway. Every agonizing step echoed on the walls like a gunshot. I was a lamb to be slaughtered.
My father was ready by the door to walk me down the short aisle, smiling proudly. Ridiculous notion given the fact that he was the one who had brutally beaten me to the verge of death and I was no blushing bride. Either way, I took the small bundle of flowers, hooked my arm in his and faced the men waiting at the other end of the walk.
There were barely any witnesses to this farce. Mr. O’Hara with presumably his wife, my father’s recent long term hook up, the officiant and only a few security details as always. My fiance stood next to the officiant, not even looking in my direction. Good. I didn’t need him to see the reluctancy and the dread in my eyes. There was only so much I could hide.
“Dearly beloved-” The officiant began, but was immediately cut off by my father clearing his throat.
“Perhaps we can skip all the jibber jabber and get to the end. We are busy people after all. Let’s speed the ceremony along, shall we?”
Stunned by my fathers audacity I made the error of looking back at him. His business-like smile faded slightly, giving me a silent threat to get back in line quickly lest I anger him again. I turned and with a passing glance noticed my fiance staring at me. Shit. It was too late to correct my mistake.
I faced the officiant, kept my eyes low, nodded and smiled, hoping it would be enough. Maybe he will be merciful if I agree to the fast forward. Maybe, just maybe, if I play along he won’t beat me as badly as my father did.
“Uh, shall I go on?” The officiant piped up, slightly shaken. I couldn’t blame him, but I doubt he had any idea who was standing in front of him. He might as well be staring straight at death. I had to convince everyone, so I cleared my throat.
“Yes. Do as he says. Skip the speech, let’s get to the vows.”
“Alright then. Do you Jackal Blake O’Hara take Valentina Katerina Gregorovich as your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.” Jackal said with that familiar mundane voice and placed a ring on my finger. A small rose gold band with a diamond and silver details. Delicate and beautiful. Exactly the kind of ring any bride would be happy to receive on their wedding day, apart from myself.
“And do you Valentina Katerina Gregorovich take Jackal Blake O’Hara as your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.” My voice cracked. I could only hope the officiant would take it as wedding jitters. With trembling hands, I placed the band on Jackal’s finger. Simple but elegant, featuring both silver and rose gold, a perfect match to mine. If only the match of our union was perfect too.
“By the powers invested in me I hereby declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Fear boiled in my stomach. How could I have forgotten the kiss? I would have to kiss my husband and pretend like I was enjoying it, like I wanted it. Like I wanted any part in this sham of a marriage. I closed my eyes, hoping he would take the initiative and get it over with. Just a small peck. Quick and easy.
Instead, I felt warm hands, one by my hip, the other cradling my face. He pressed his lips on mine, softly, brushing over them ever so delicately with his tongue before taking over the pace of the kiss entirely. It was deep, sensual and consuming; and there was a strange familiarity to it. He tasted like cigarettes.
When we pulled away, the congratulations and other well wishes fell on deaf ears as I was utterly shocked at the view. It was him. Him. My midnight mystery man whom I’d kissed was staring back at me. Butterflies took flight, replacing the sensation in my stomach and sending shockwaves to my core.
The shock was followed by confusion. He pulled away, no hint of pleasure nor regret on his face, simply staring to the distance as if uninterested in the whole ordeal. How could he keep a straight face in a moment like this? Doesn’t he care at all? He must be in on the deal. Why else would he have agreed to the marriage so quickly? And why did he kiss me like that? Is that part of his ruse?
The kiss had been every bit as fiery as the night we met. He would devour me if I’d let him. And even now when my body was still humming with pleasure, I was afraid my husband would be the death of me. I reminded myself to act carefully around him in the future.
“Right then. Now it’s only the matter of signing the papers and you’ll be off on your way.” Mr. O’Hara gestured to the podium with our marriage license. Just some ink on a paper, our names signed on a single line, equal with the vows spoken.
But I knew, I just signed my name to the devil. Jackal O’Hara. The son of one of the most powerful crime lords, rumored to be the most ruthless man in the city even more so than his father. I never thought I’d put a face to the name, yet alone be married to him.
“Aww, look at them two.” Mrs. O’Hara squealed, wiping her eyes. “You are going to enjoy the honeymoon.” I don’t think so. I’ll be sleeping with a knife under my pillow if he so much as shadows my doorstep.
“That can wait. I have urgent business to attend to. I’ll see to it that she is comfortable at my residence in my absence. Adieu.”
Jackal fished a phone out of his pants pocket and proceeded to read through something simultaneously walking out of the office and down the corridor without looking back. I gave my father one last glance before bowing my head down and following my husband . My heels clacked on the marble floor as I rushed to catch up to him.
A car with tinted windows was waiting for us outside. He held the door for me as I climbed to the passenger seat, then proceeded to round the car to the driver side. He took his place as the pilot, switched the car in gear and drove us into the traffic.
The drive was silent, only the hum of the engine keeping us company. Jackal had his eyes pinned on the road. The deathgrip he had on the steering wheel was enough for me to know not to provoke him, so I let my gaze wander outside of the window. Multiple high risers framed the skyline and disappeared into the clouds. The streets were almost empty as only a few people dared the snow storm.
The car came to a slow stop in an underground garage. Jackal led me to an elevator and pressed the button to the penthouse. Figures. Where else would a man like him live?
“The house is empty for now.” He said as he punched in a key code. “My men are taking care of some things out of the country so you’ll be on your own for a few days. I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“Yes, Mr. O’Hara.” A voice not my own answered. I didn’t want to sound too eager to know I’d have some time to adjust to my new surroundings without anyone breathing down my neck. Nervously I began to fidget with the ring on my finger.
“Jax.” He said over his shoulder flicking on the lights of the apartment using a wall panel. “Call me Jax, or Jackal, whatever you prefer. You don’t need to be so formal with me, wife.”
“Katy.” For the first time in an hour I finally looked into his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of brown and glowed in the dim light of the room. I shouldn’t stare but I can't help it. My husband is dangerously handsome. ”My first name is Valentina, but I like Katy. It’s what my mother used to call me.”
“Very well. There are three floors. First floor kitchen, common areas, living room, dining room etcetera.” He waved his hand around pointing to different directions doing a full 360 turn on his heels. He seemed more relaxed now that we were at his home. “Second floor is for guests and the staff. I have five on call, including a housekeeper, Louisa. She doesn’t speak a word of English but keeps the place spotless.”
The place looked immaculate. Tall ceilings decorated with modern light features, white walls with massive paintings and the floors had beautiful tile patterns. Though I only got a small glimpse from my point of view, the furniture and the rest of the decor was very modern, elegant and expensive.
Walking up the stairs I could see the entire city spread out through the floor to ceiling windows. The building reached so high we were almost swallowed up by the clouds. From the top floor I was barely able to hear the sounds of the city below.
“The third floor is for my personal use. Over there is my office, that is my bedroom.” He said, pointing out each door and stopping in front of two large black doors. “And this is your room.”
He waited for me to step in. The room was surprisingly feminine compared to the rest of the house. Taking a walk around the room I noticed the furniture was untouched and most likely new. The bed was freshly made with soft fabrics, armchair cushions were fluffed out and jewelry boxes were neatly organized by the vanity, ready to be filled.
“Bathroom is through there and I’ll have your clothes brought to you by tomorrow. You can use whatever you like from my closet till then. That is, if you want.”
I just nodded, unable to say anything yet alone think straight. He was strangely nice though his tone was cold. Everything he did was thoroughly thought out and calculated. What the hell was he planning?
“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. I suppose I don’t need to remind you not to leave the house? If you do, I’ll know.” When I made a face, he continued. “I didn’t mean it like that. This is not a prison. You are free to roam as you like. And if there is anything you need, my staff will take care of it.”
I nodded again. The phone buzzed in his pocket and he began to scroll through it again. Without another word he rushed out the room, leaving me there standing, wondering if I’ll be spending my wedding night alone. What am I thinking? Of course I want to spend it alone. There is no way I’ll let Jax in my bed, even if it’s our wedding night.
The door downstairs slammed shut and after carefully listening in for any other sounds, I determined I was completely and utterly alone. Doing a small victory dance, I pranced to the bathroom, shimmied out of my dress and kicked the door close.
The warm shower was a welcome feeling strumming on my sensitive skin. I spent a long time under the steam, scrubbing the thick makeup off so I could examine my injuries. The freshest ones were still screaming red and throbbing.
Stepping out of the shower, I quickly wrapped myself in a robe and avoided looking at myself in the mirror. I knew the horror that would stare back at me and I didn’t need a visual reminder to know it would take a long time to recover.
Jax’s had a variety of neat, tailored and expensive clothes but I was happily surprised when I found a drawer full of sweatpants and t-shirts. It was not a surprise however that everything was a shade of gray or black. The clothes smelled just like him.
Mentally exhausted and my body aching, I crawled under the sheets, cuddled up with pillows and dozed off in minutes. Not even the wind howling behind the windows could keep me awake. If only Jackal could have stayed out of my dreams, my sleep would have been more peaceful.
Louisa came by my room once I had awakened. I assumed she gestured to me to have breakfast but if I was honest with myself I could not bring myself to eat one bite even if I wanted to. My mind was too occupied with the recent events. She straightened the room, picked up my wedding dress and made herself scarce. I figured out we would get along just fine.