CHAPTER FIVE: JUST ANOTHER FIGUREHEAD

RODRIGO’S POV

Today was the day of the wedding. After making her sign the wedding certificate at gunpoint, we still had to put up a show, and he had to believe that I actually loved the woman I was marrying.

I adjusted my navy blue blazer, and it was fitted. After styling my hair, I spun around and made my way to her room.

There she was, seated before a mirror as the makeup artist did the finishing touches on her face. Her jaw was clenched, and she had on a slight frown, proof that she didn't want to be here. Worse more, doing this with me, but I gave little fuck about it.

With one last dap of brown powder, she was good to go. The makeup artist made eye contact with me before lowering her gaze and hastily making her exit, rightfully terrified of me.

Maybe under a different circumstance, I would’ve appreciated her dress and the way it complimented her curves.

But I couldn’t, not today. I eyed her reflection, and her gaze met mine, but she didn't dare to look back.

Fear!

It was all written over her, and I loved it.

I had decided to come to confirm if I really was trying out this event called a wedding, one I always despised attending.

I watched her swallow a lump of saliva, gathering her gown as she turned around slowly to face me, her dull eyes void of emotions.

“Are you ready?” I questioned and watched something light in her eyes.

“Do I have a choice?” She retorted, bitterness laced in her tone. She hated me; that was obvious, but I care less since I always hated the word ‘love’.

“Just behave today; you do not want to cross me,” I warned sternly and watched her tilt her head to the side but said nothing.

Tanya and I descended the grand staircase, the driver opening the door for us. She attempted to slide into the car gracefully, but her gown snagged.

Without a word, I stepped forward, assisting her in a swift manoeuvre to free the fabric. Time was of the essence—marriage and this elaborate charade needed to conclude sooner rather than later.

My knuckles brushed her bare back for a fraction of a second before I snatched my hand away. I wasn't the type to reflect on any meaningless coincidence.

Settling beside her in the back seat, I could feel her tensing up, but I said nothing except to watch as the driver navigated us to the hall. Silence hung in the air for a long time, and finally, I stole a glance at her, her crimson lips pursed, her eyes fixed on the passing trees.

"Don't try anything funny," I warned, a terse undertone in my voice. It was like I could tell she was looking for a way to escape.

That would, however, be a bad idea because I would hunt her to the end of the world and have her pay. Well, that would be if I was still alive by then. Losing the Capo position to Fabio would automatically officiate my death day.

She mumbled something under her breath, low and indistinguishable. I didn't care to know what it was.

Finally, we arrived at the church, where some familiar faces greeted us. My father and brother, however, were absent, just like I expected. I doubted that the older man could even move his legs.

Old age!

Another fear of mine.

When that time comes, rather than stay bedridden, I would save myself the agony and painlessly end myself.

Turning around, I found Lucas walking up to me, perfect.

“Where's my dad?" I questioned as soon as he got close enough.

Lucas sighed, "He's not feeling well. He's going to be watching everything online,” he responded, and I tsk before nodding while I tried to process it some more.

“He should have told me he couldn't make it today. Maybe we'd have shifted the date-” I was saying when he cut short.

“That's exactly why he didn't want to tell you. Now go get married,” Lucas stated, smiling hard while sounding like a proud uncle.

I stared at him for a long time before turning around to leave.

“You're not going to ask about Fabio? Your brother?” He questioned, causing me to halt in my steps.

“If Fabio wanted me to know anything, I believe he has my number,” I responded rudely.

“Did you even send him an invite?” He questioned, and I could tell that he was displeased.

“I forgot,” I responded, tilting my head a little.

Lucas shook his head, and I could tell what was going through his head. He used to ask me often why I never got on good terms with Fabio.

“Anyway, he left word that he had an important business trip to attend at the last minute.” He pointed out, and I scoffed softly.

Lies!

Just who he was.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

"Figures,” I responded and walked away before the conversation could get any uncomfortable.

The ceremony commenced. Hand in hand, we exchanged vows and rings. She stood like a statue all through, her palm cold. When the moment came to lift her veil and seal our union with a kiss, I couldn't deny a fleeting sense of captivation by her beauty.

The kiss was brief, a necessary formality in this elaborate façade. We mingled, greeted guests, and celebrated as a newlywed couple.

The reception was just like I hoped, an endless parade of forced smiles and empty applauses. We played the happy couple, Tanya clinging to my arm like a doll.

“Try anything funny, and I will make you hate yourself,” I whispered amiss, a smile.

She said nothing, her eyes hiding her emotions but leaving a hint of sadness.

Finally, the ordeal was over. We slipped away from the chattering crowd, sinking into the leather seats of the waiting car. The silence returned, this time heavier than before.

We began to drive home. At least now she could call it home because, fake or not, she was my wife. I looked over my shoulders to steal a glance.

“You know, after this, whatever plans you have of running away are over, right? Because you and I are intertwined-”

“We're not; you're just evil, and you want to keep me as your prisoner. Probably forced me into marriage because you know no woman in her right mind would put up with you,” she spat, her face turning red.

I hate you too, Wifey.

I just watched in silence as the car continued to drive.

“Have an outburst like that next time, and I'll remove your tongue, I swear,” I assured.

I heard her suck in a shaky breath before leaning against the window. I turned towards the driver, who seemed to pay more attention to us than the road.

“A word about what you just heard to anyone, just the slightest person, and I will make sure that the last time you speak, understood?” I warned and watched him nod, his fingers tightening against the steering wheel, causing his knuckles to almost turn white.

My phone interrupted the quiet with a ring. Taking a glance, I noticed that it was Father.

"I watched the wedding online," he said. "I'm proud of you, Rodrigo. I'm making arrangements to declare you as the head of the mafia.” He announced briefly, his voice better than the last time I visited.

After ending the call, Tanya shot me a glance, her eyes locking with mine briefly before she turned away.

The car rolled on, the silence stretching into the form of uneasiness. Finally, her words sliced through the thick atmosphere, and her words were carefully chosen. "Your father seemed pleased."

I leaned back, feigning nonchalance. "Appearances matter."

"Are you always this serious?" she quipped, attempting a playful tone, which I wasn't pleased with.

I raised my eyebrow. "This isn't a game, Tanya. We have roles to play. This is business, and I never mix it with pleasure. I guess I established that the first we met.”

She sighed again before staring out the window. "I know." She responded, sounding a little sad.

“Good!” I replied, staring back into the blank space.

What next?

The question engulfed my mind.

What would be her role now? A Wife? A Mother? Or just another figurehead?