Chapter Two
Isobel
A week ago, I still had my job. I was struggling to make the payments for the estate’s debts.
My life was chaotic, but I still had the free will to curl up on the couch on a random night and get absorbed in fictional books until I barely got any sleep and was running on fumes the following morning.
I had the freedom to stay up by the balcony and finish a glass of old wine from the cellar without feeling guilty.
But now, everything had changed.
I no longer owed the bank. I was supposed to have gotten that freedom I desperately sought, but instead, I was stuck in more bondage than ever.
I signed a deal with the devil and sold my soul to him.
I belonged to him now.
I ran my fingers over the intricate details of my Chantilly wedding dress that molded against my curves.
From its long sleeves, fitted bodice, and dipping neckline that flaunted a generous amount of my cleavage to the way it flared out from my knees in a pool of lace, forming a silhouette behind me.
My long veil with lace hems added more volume to the silhouette of the dress.
My red hair was tucked into a low bun, and the red lipstick I opted for added more dramatic flair to my appearance.
A woman’s wedding day was supposed to be one of her happiest days in life, but mine was a stark reminder of the fact that my fate was sealed and signed, and I had sold my soul to the devil.
“Can I come in now?” The cheery and enthusiastic voice of my best friend reached my ears from the door.
“Yes.” I pushed back the tears threatening to spill.
The door cracked open, and her presence was revealed behind me.
Maria looked like a seductress in her red maid-of-honor dress. I had given her the freedom to do whatever she wanted. It wasn’t like it was a real wedding anyway, and far be it from me to confine Maria.
Her blonde hair was curled into loose beach waves, stylishly dropping to her shoulder. The red satin dress stretched around her curvaceous frame with a stylish off-the-shoulder neck, illusion sleeves, and a high slit that ran up to her mid-thigh.
“Oh, you look amazing,” she whispered.
I spun around, and she took my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. Her blue eyes gleamed with so much softness.
“Mama would be so proud if she were here.”
“I’m glad she’s not.” My throat closed up. “This wedding is a recipe for disaster.”
Maria sighed. “It got you out of the debt. If it weren’t for this marriage, I don’t really know how you’d be able to clear the debts. I have told you to look on the bright side.”
Maria was the only family I had left. I wasn’t going to get married without telling her whether it was real or not.
Maria didn’t judge me or criticize my choices.
She knew how important keeping the estate was to me.
Thus, when I told her I was marrying a man who proposed a ridiculous arrangement, she didn’t question my decision.
She understood me and let me do what pleased me.
“Take a deep breath.” She squeezed our fingers.
I smiled, drawing in a deep breath and slowly puffing it out.
“You are Isobel Dupont, and this is one of life’s many ridiculous lemons that you are going to make lemonade out of. Do you understand me?” Her voice was stern now.
I nodded.
“Good. Now let’s go get you married.” She grinned.
I laughed, nodding my head. I honestly didn’t know what I would do without Maria in my life.
She let me take as many deep breaths as I needed. Then she arranged my veil and led me to the patio where the wedding was taking place.
When Damien told me that the wedding was taking place at his father’s old, gigantic mansion, which reminded me of Renaissance-era architecture, something was off.
He told me that weddings in the Romano family had always been held at the mansion.
It was an old, strict tradition that they conformed to.
The secrecy, close-knit nature, and dysfunction of his family kept me on edge.
They communicated in codes and had all these strange-looking men in suits all over the house.
It was unsettling, but I tried not to dwell on it too much.
Damien himself was a psychopathic bastard, so I wasn’t fazed.
The bridal music cued in, and I slowly led myself out.
My slow, intentional walk down the aisle allowed me to take in the simple white chairs aligned in rows and columns, divided by the decorated path that led to the end of the aisle where my husband-to-be awaited me. The aisle was flanked with neatly trimmed cream flowers, leading down to the altar.
I almost rolled my eyes when he stretched his palm out for me to take.
Electricity zapped through me as our hands touched.
I swallowed, my eyes raking his devilish frame that was wrapped in his muscle-fitting white shirt tucked in black slacks.
Damien discarded tradition. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket.
The upper buttons of his shirt were undone, giving me a peek at his hard, flawless chest. His tie was nowhere to be found.
The corners of his lips twitched when he saw that I was checking him out.
“You may proceed,” he urged the priest.
“We are gathered here for the holy union between Isobel Dupont and Damien Romano...” The priest’s voice trailed off as I allowed Damien’s dark eyes to suck me in.
They scorched a heated path across my skin, wanting to unravel me.
The way he stared at me didn’t just make my breath catch.
It made me feel as though he was the first person to actually see enough to make me tick, to grate my nerves so badly that all I wanted to do was dig my nails into his chest and see if someone as unhinged as he was actually had a heart.
“Do you, Damien Romano, take Isobel Dupont as your lawfully wedded wife in sickness and in health, in happiness and grief, to have and to hold from this day forward till death do you part?”
“I do.”
He barely hesitated. It was like he had been waiting for this since the day he was born. His eyes met mine as he said those two words, reminding me that I belonged to him now, even in death.
“Do you, Isobel Dupont, take Damien Romano as your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, in happiness and grief, to have and to hold from this day forward till death do you part?”
This was it.
I was really doing this.
The words felt heavy on my tongue. A part of me wanted to bolt and run off to somewhere he wouldn’t find me, but who was I kidding? This man was the devil. There was nowhere I could run. There was no place on earth that I could hide where he wouldn’t find me.
“I do,” I whispered those words.
“You may exchange your rings.”
Damien grabbed my hand so delicately, slipping a studded gold band and radiant-cut diamond wedding ring onto my finger. The huge rock glinted as it caught the light, the weight of the promises behind it strangling me.
I slipped a simple gold band onto his finger, and the way it fit perfectly around his finger made my breath hitch.
He was mine now as much as I was his.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
I stiffened as his hand found my waist. I crashed into his chest, gasping softly.
“Mine.”
His mouth descended on mine, hot and needy. He claimed my lips in such passionate strokes that it made me stop breathing for a moment. I clung to his shirt so hard, wanting to take every bit of what he was offering as though I had been waiting for it for so long.
When we broke apart, my cheeks were burning.
“There’s no escaping me now.”