004

Hayden's POV~

 

I woke in a strange surroundings, my head throbbing and my throat parched. Above me, the ceiling was high and ornate with accents of gold, catching the sun through the windows. Last night's events rolled back into place.

 

Jason. Marcus. Betrayal.

 

The bar.

 

And then him.

 

A heat wave blasted through me as fragmented images of the night flooded my mind. My face burned with shame. 

 

I could see myself climbing onto his lap, pressing my lips against his. I could feel his hands gripping my waist, hear the low groan he'd made when I—

 

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "What the hell did I do?”

 

My body ached in places it never had ached before. A dull throbbing between my legs made it painful to sit up with. I shifted just a little and felt another flash of sharper pain. "Ow! Damn it!" I hissed and let myself drop onto the bed.

That was when I saw the note.

 

The note was folded in half on the bedside table. I hesitated for a moment before picking it up, my heart pounding in my chest as I unfolded it.

 

“Last night was amazing. Wait for me patiently.”

 

I dropped, eyes going wide. "What the—"

 

I crumpled the note in my hand, my face heating with embarrassment. "Wait obediently?" I muttered, scoffing. "Like hell, I will." I crumpled the note into the waste basket beside the bed and forced myself to stand despite the pain.

 

I could not help but be blinded by all the luxuries in the room. From gold decorations on the wall to marble beneath my feet, everything spoke of a very rich man's wallet, which only made me feel more out of place.

 

I shot through the doorway into the bathroom and scrubbed every inch under the hot spray of the shower. His hands were on me, his voice in my ear, and I couldn't wash it away no matter how hard I tried.

 

Finally, I came out of the shower and dressed hastefully back into the same rumpled clothes from the night before. Without even taking a second glance, I went out the door.

 

The ride home in the taxi was silent, the only sound being the low thrumming of the engine. My tummy was doing somersaults as I looked out through the windowpane at the now-familiar streets of the Morenzo Estate. Little that the tall, iron gates and sprawling gardens did to ease my nervous tension as it approached my father's house ahead.

 

When the car finally came to a stop, I hesitated. My hands were shaking as I reached for the handle, and my chest tightened. I really did not want to go inside, and I really did not want to see my father.

 

But I had nowhere else to go.

 

I paid the driver, stepped out onto the crunching gravel, and walked toward the gates. The guards nodded as they swung them open, but I hardly noticed. 

 

It was lead poured into my legs, trekking up that path, each step heavier than the last.

 

No sooner had I stepped inside than a glass smashed against the wall beside me.

 

"You worthless bastard! Where in hell have you been?"

 

I froze, turning my eyes to where my father stood at the head of the stairs. His face was red with anger; his fists were balled at his sides.

 

"Answer me!" he bellowed, and his voice and its echoes resounded through the grand hall.

 

"I…" My throat went dry, and the words would not come.

 

"You've been out whoring, haven't you?" he spat, lumbering down the stairs. "Running around like the man-slut you are, embarrassing this family!"

 

"Father, I—"

 

"Don't you dare speak," he growled, looming over me. "Do you know how much shame you've brought to this house? To me?"

 

I flinched as he raised his hand, but he didn't hit me. This time. His finger stabbed into my chest; his voice lowered to a deadly whisper.

 

"You're a lousy, sorry excuse for a man. Can't stand thinking about having you for a son.".

 

Those words cut deeper than any slap ever could. My eyes blurred with tears, but I dared not let them drop. I just stood there shaking as he went on ranting.

 

"You're useless," he sneered. "You can't even secure your place in this world. But I'll fix that.".

 

He straightened his tie as if nothing had happened. "Since you're so bent on being useless, you can at least make yourself useful to this family. You're getting married."

 

The words dropped into the room like a death sentence.

 

"What?" I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

 

"You heard me," he said, his voice cold. "The Luciano family has agreed to the deal. You'll be marrying their son today, finalizing the deal we've been working toward."

 

“Today?” I stuttered out a repeat of the word, voice cracking at its end.

 

My father's eyes narrowed. "Yes, today. And if you have any objections, keep them to yourself. You've done enough damage already."

 

I wanted to scream, to shout, to say no. But the words wouldn't come. My father's glare was sharp enough to cut through steel, and my courage crumbled under its weight.

 

"Now go upstairs and get dressed," he growled, his voice allowing no room for disobedience. "Your husband-to-be will be here soon."

 

I froze, unable to move, until he yelled at me again: "Go!"

 

I turned and walked up the stairs; now, tears ran freely on their hot little paths down my face. My chest felt hollow, as though someone had reached in and yanked out all my insides—everything that made me.

 

Two hours passed, and I heard engines outside. I sat at the side of my bed, staring at nothing but the floor. My suit was pressed, and my hair greased back, but what rose to my lips as though heaved there was a dead puppet, all dressed up to be put on show for the sake of another.

 

There was a knock at my door, and then a voice said, "Now it is time."

At the back of my mind, the thought that this day was coming had haunted me. I knew I would get married, and knowing I couldn't do anything hurt me more.

H as ght,  as nthng bt a aklng.

 

I gulped, closed my throat, and thrust myself up into the air. My legs, I knew, would feel slack going downstairs, and the voices grew louder as I went along.

 

At the bottom of the stairs, a room full of murmuring strangers filled the living room: seven clean-shaven men with my father, drinking wine and grinning from ear to ear.

 

"There he is," my father bellowed loudly and irritatedly, stretching out to call over to me. "My son, Hayden."

 

I could feel eyes on me as I came in, but I couldn't get the smile right. 

 

Any feeling, really—whatever it was, I just got slapped right out and covered up under my emotional blanket.

 

"This is Roberto," my father said, immobile, like a man in his mid-thirties formed from his sitting posture as I stepped closer into his visual field.

 

Roberto wasn't handsome, but he was by no means unattractive. His features were sharp and angular, his smile tight as he reached out a hand. 

 

When I hesitated, he took mine, squeezing hard as his other wrapped over my wrist.

 

"You're even prettier than your father said," he said in a low, smooth voice.

 

My stomach rolled over as he leaned in, and his hot breath hit my ear. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll take good care of you."

 

I wanted to pull away, but my body wouldn't do that. My father's approving smile loomed in the corner of my vision, and I knew I couldn't fight this.

 

"This is a great deal," my father said, slapping Roberto. "You both will be very happy together."

 

The lawyer rose, pulled a paper out of his pocket, and thumped it on the table. 

 

"We can do it all here," he said. "Mr. Roberto has already signed. All we need now is Hayden's signature."

 

I looked down at the paper, and my hand began to shake. I lifted my pen to sign, and at that moment, the walls seemed to close in around me, suffocating me under everyone's expectations.

 

"Sign it," my father commanded sharply.

 

I swallowed hard, staring down at the line where my name was to go. I wanted to scream, to tear the paper in two and run. But my father's voice boomed again, this time louder.

 

"Sign it now!"

 

My hand seemed to move by itself, pen poised over paper. I could hardly see; there were too many tears streaming down my face to be able to see.

 

Then, suddenly, the rumble of cars outside became loud and insistent.

 

It was silent in the room.

 

Before anyone could move, the front door swung open with a crashing push.

 

“Bang!”