Chapter 5 - Kristopher
We’re finally home, but I don’t feel that she’s safe yet. My father got to her. Ali Koskos has had her for two days in whatever drugged state she was in. I have no idea what she’s been through, but all I want right now is to secure her safety.
It took every ounce of control to hold myself together at that disgusting auction. My temper was on the verge of spilling free, like flood gates opening on a reservoir of death.
I wanted to open fire, rain hell down on every person in attendance.
Every person who had his eyes on her, every person who bid on her, thinking she was something they could buy, as though she had value within their reach.
Those assholes have no idea of her actual value. Insurmountable. Unfathomable.
She is priceless. And she is mine.
And Ali Koskos. He was the epitome of the rot, his smug demeanor while he negotiated, that cold glint in his eyes. The way he spoke of the exchange as if he were arranging a flight or booking a hotel. As though she meant nothing.
Him, I wanted to skin alive in slow motion, taking days to peel the flesh from his bones while I savored his agony. I still want that.
But it wasn’t the time or the place. My only goal was to get her out of there, to get her to safety.
And now she’s here, but I still can’t relax. Not until those papers are signed and she’s bound to me.
Not until she carries my name like a title of security wrapped around her.
I gesture towards the documents again.
“This is what has to happen,” I say calmly, but there is no room for negotiation in my voice. This is not an option.
She’s standing with her shoulders squared, her mouth tight, and her eyes boring holes into my soul.
“I’m not signing that. You’re crazy,” she snaps. Her long, honey-blonde hair is a mess. She’s a mess. Yet I can’t tear my eyes off her.
Fuck.
She’s as beautiful as ever.
And the fear I saw before, the bewildered, wild-eyed girl who was tied to that chair...it’s like a switch has flipped inside her, and that little rabbit has become a wolf.
Her eyes flare like gold shining in bright sunlight.
My heart stutters as I try to pull my thoughts together and focus on what needs to happen.
“Stop looking at me like that. I won’t sign it,” she shouts.
I can’t help the smile that touches the corner of my mouth. Fighting it, trying not to let her see it, I pull my mouth tight.
She’s gorgeous when she’s angry. Her fierceness, the fire that ignites inside her, is bold and ferocious. She’s fucking sexy.
Her cheeks are rose-pink against her porcelain skin. Smooth and perfect, I bet it would feel like silk if I brushed my fingers over her face.
I like this side of her, the side that refuses to back down, refuses to let anyone control her.
But I want to control her. I want to challenge that fire in the most erotic ways.
I clear my throat, pushing those thoughts aside.
“Georgie, this is important. You need to sign that to ensure your safety,” I explain as calmly as I can.
She looks from me to the marriage certificate.
“To marry you?” she says in disbelief. “You want to marry me?”
“This is the only way to guarantee that no one else can touch you ever again.”
She snorts, an indignant yet endearing sound that makes me chuckle.
“Is this funny to you?” she snaps.
“No,” I sigh. “Georgie, you don’t understand this world. I do.”
“You're right, I don’t. I don’t even know what the hell has been going on for the past few days. I don’t understand why someone took me, why someone drugged me, and why the hell I got sold at a fucking auction like I was some antique vase.” She’s shouting now, furious. Outraged.
I clench my jaw, my fists too, and roll my neck to ease the growing tension.
This is not how this is supposed to be going.
She steps closer to me, making my heart pause, my blood flowing harder and faster through my veins. Her small fists are clenched at her sides. She’s challenging me, and I’m fighting the urge to push her against the wall and kiss her.
Again.
I’ve never been able to stop thinking about that night.
That moment I have played over in my mind a hundred times. A thousand. More than a thousand.
She has no idea.
She has no idea what she does to me, how I’ve spent years obsessing over her. Years stalking her, tracking her, watching her.
Years, with her being the only woman I could ever want.
She has no idea that she belongs to me.
The memory of her lips against mine flickers through my thoughts.
I had to step back that night.
How could I pull her into this dark, ruthless world? What kind of love could I claim to have for her innocent perfection if I was so willing to let her become a part of my life and live in danger?
I couldn’t do it.
No matter how difficult it was to turn away from her, I had to.
But now, with her standing in front of me, those beautiful golden honey eyes locked onto me…I am not responsible for dragging her into this.
I wasn’t in control of what happened to her.
In fact, I’ve spent the last few years trying to protect her from people like Koskos. To protect her from myself.
I’m not blind to the opportunity this gives me. The gift.
I can’t let her see that side of things, though.
To her, this has to be a logical choice. An obvious one.
I force myself to take a step away from her because if I don’t, I’m going to reach out and pull her against me. I turn my back on her and let out a frustrated sigh.
“Georgie, this is just a piece of paper. A document that lets the rest of the world know that you are under my protection. You don’t have to read more into it than that.”
“Pfft,” she huffs, folding her arms across her ample breasts.
“I’m serious,” I explain. “You know a little bit about my role in this city? The power I have?”
She nods, her eyes narrowed. “Sort of,” she replies slowly, and I can see I’m getting through to her.
“So then you understand that men like Ali Koskos won’t be able to touch you if you are mine. Uh. I mean, if you have my name,” I correct myself quickly.
“This is ridiculous. You can’t make me do this. Just take me home. Back to the dorm. I’ll go to the police or something.” She doesn’t sound like she believes her own words.
“Trust me, the police can’t help you,” I sigh again, losing patience. Pushing my fingers through my hair, I feel the frustration building inside me.
How do I make her understand?
“Fine, I won’t go to the police, but let me go home. I can leave the city,” she suggests, her eyes wide.
“Leaving the city won’t help you, either. Stop being so stubborn. Can’t you see I’m trying to help you?”
“You’re telling me to marry you, though, Kristopher. Marriage. Like a proper, official marriage.”
My name on her lips has me reeling for more.
It spikes my desire, which I quickly convert to anger to avoid doing something I will regret.
I spin to face her with my eyes flaring, heated with urgency.
“How many men like Koskos do you think are out there?” I snarl.
She jumps in fright, her brows shooting up. “I-I…” she stammers.
“It’s not just him I’m protecting you from.
There are hundreds of different versions of him.
Men who would buy you, who would take you against your will.
They might chain you to their beds and use you as a toy.
They might let their friends borrow you, rent you, in exchange for whatever they wanted.
They have no concept of morality, of human life.
They will use you until there is nothing left.
” I’m shouting. I’m terrified that these things will happen to her.
And while I didn't intend to terrify her as much as I clearly have, when I watch her slowly walk towards the table with tears streaming down her cheeks and pick up the pen, my entire body releases the tension locking every muscle inside me. She understands.
“So, signing will stop that?” she asks, barely a whisper.
“Yes. I can protect you, Georgie,” I say quietly, walking closer to her.
“If I sign this…my life will never be the same again.”
“And if you don’t, it could be very much worse,” I whisper, brushing my hand over the back of her neck.
She flinches from me, pushing my hand away.
“I hate you for doing this to me,” she snaps, just before she leans over the paperwork and scrawls a messy, weighted, angry version of her signature onto the marriage certificate. The nib of the fountain pen bleeds too much ink into the crisp white paper.
She throws the pen down, and more ink spills from the nib, like a drop of black blood.
I let out a sharp breath.
It’s done.
She’s mine.
My heart somersaults.
She’s mine.
I bite down against a smile.
“You have to sign here, please, sir.” My lawyer hands me the pen.
I don’t hesitate. Not for a second. I’m desperate to have my signature on the line next to hers.
I can’t believe that after years of waiting, fate has brought her to my side.
I step away, my eyes tracing over our marriage certificate.
The lawyer picks up the paperwork, tapping it against the edge of the table to straighten it. “I’ll file this for you and send you a copy for your records.”
“Thank you. You can let yourself out. The guards will open the security gate for you.” I gesture towards the door. On a normal day, I’d walk him out, but I don’t want to leave Georgie alone.
“Let me show you your room.” I cock my head to the side, inviting her to follow me.
She pouts in anger and storms in the direction I indicated.
The maroon ball gown, torn and dirty, trails around her body, hanging lose in some places, but still looking beautiful. Imagine if she looks so gorgeous in this mess of a dress, what she’d look like in a dress that deserves to be on her body.
In the guest room, I flick the lights on. A clean, bright white room with the bare essentials lies before us.
“No cuffs? No ropes to make sure I don’t run away?” she snaps.
“I think I’ve made your choices clear. You can run, but it’s men like Koskos you’ll be dealing with instead of me.”
“Are you any better than them, Kristopher?” she asks, biting.
I sneer and tower over her. “I might be dangerous, but I am not a monster. I am nothing like Koskos,” I snarl.
“Maybe not from your perspective. But we’re all blind to our own demons,” she says, as cold as ever.
My eyes pierce into hers, trying to read her mind, trying to understand if she really sees me that way.
But she’s been through a lot over these past few days; I can’t judge her harsh words. She needs rest. She needs to feel safe.
I step back and gesture around the room. “Make yourself at home. Tomorrow, I’ll have them bring you some clothes and whatever else you need.”
She says nothing but continues to glare hatred at me.
For some reason, I’m struggling to walk away.
Georgie is in my home. She’s my wife.
She’s mine.
I want to celebrate this dream, this becoming of reality of a fantasy I’ve obsessed over for years.
I want to push her onto the bed and claim her like I should have claimed her that night.
But I find it inside myself to step away.
I manage to gather my self-control and walk towards her bedroom door.
“Get some rest, Georgie. I’m sure you’ve been through a lot. My bedroom is right down the hallway if you need me…during the night. For anything at all. I’m here for you, okay?” I say gently.
She says nothing, so reluctantly, I walk away, pulling her door half-closed behind me.
As I walk down the hallway towards my bedroom, I hear her door slam the rest of the way.
It doesn’t matter.
All that matters is that she’s safe.
Still, when I climb into bed that night, I toss and turn for hours. I listen, straining my ears, waiting for her to call my name or knock on my door. Wishing for it.
But it doesn’t happen.
Finally, in the very early hours of the new day, I drift into dreams of her. My wife. The most magnificent creature I’ve ever set my eyes on.