“Now, now, sweetheart,” Cormac chided behind them, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “That’s no way to speak to your husband.”
Fedya nodded at the priest to continue.
“By the power vested in me, and by the grace of God, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May the Lord bless thisunion and keep it, may His face shine upon you and give you inexplicable peace.”
“Amen,” Fedya said as the priest closed his book with a finality, concluding the ceremony with a final prayer.
Cormac stepped forward with another toothy grin, clamping a hard hand down Fedya’s shoulder. “Welcome to the family, Jonathan.”
“It’s an honor to be one with you.”
Cormac nodded. “I’m sure.”
Fedya noticed then that he barely sent another glance his daughter’s way. Cormac’s men flanked out from wherever it was they were hiding, all marching forward to the crates of ammunition behind Fedya’s car.
There were no goodbyes exchanged between Maeve and her father. No hesitation. No hug. No forehead kiss. No display of affection, no matter how subtle. Nothing at all between them. As if they’d been strangers from the start.
And it made Fedya even more curious about their seemingly estranged relationship.
Right now, though, that was the least of his problems. The deal was done. He was married, and now he was going to take his bride home because from the second he had slid that ring onto her finger, she had become?whether or not she wanted it?irrevocably his, and he would make sure she knew that.
Chapter 4 - Maeve
Maeve was fuming in her seat. She wanted to break something?no, she wanted to shove a toothbrush deep into her throat and scrub away every trace of her husband’s kiss. She wanted to drive her hand through her skull, sink her fingers into her brain, and rip out the memory of his fresh, minty breath, his cologne, and the wet feel of his tongue on her teeth.
But she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried, she could still feel him, still taste him. His tongue on her tongue. His hand squeezing the nape of her neck. His touch possessive and rough. His teeth against her lip. It was the most intense and the most tragic five seconds of her life.
His disgusting feral kiss seemed to be impaled in her memory. Engraved on her lips. Driving the knife deeper into her chest, reminding her of her unfortunate fate.
She was married to this strange man, wearing a ring her father bought with his money and a dress her father had delivered to her room earlier that morning. As promised, he had delivered her to Jonathan like a pile of garbage, and now she was his wife. Now, she was in his car, heading to an unknown destination with this unknown man.
You will enjoy her.
Maeve had never hated her father more when he uttered those four disgusting words.
And maybe that was the confidence this animal behind the wheel needed to touch her the way he did. To kiss her the way he did. Like she was his property. Like he owned her. Like she was his to touch as he pleased.
Rage festered like rot in her guts as her mind grew into a minefield of the countless horrors she would meet now that she was married to him. He was driving as casually and leisurely as possible, with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the window ledge. He looked relaxed, not a single crease between his brows. Was this normal for him? Ripping innocent women from their homes and marrying them because of insignificant deals? Was she just another victim of his?
What was he going to do to her when he took her to wherever it was they were going? What if he killed her just like he killed that man at the bar? What would he do if he asked for sex and she denied him? Because Maeve knew, from the deepest bottom of her heart, that she’d rather kill herself than give her body to this mean-faced killer.
The wedding band was a weight on her finger. She clenched her hands in her lap, her nails biting so hard into her palms they drew blood. She was trying?really trying?not to scream at this nightmare that had become her life.
Maybe she wouldn’t have been here if she were faster. If she’d taken Margot’s words seriously, the second she uttered them. If she’d fled the very second Margot told her to. Or better still, maybe she wouldn’t be living in this bondage if she’d developed the courage to escape from her father’s wings all these years ago. Then again, he’d find her. He would go to the ends of the earth to find her just to marry her off to this psychopath.
Whatever way she looked, as long as she remained Cormac’s daughter, she would inevitably get married to Jonathan Riley. It may not even have been him. It could have been anyone else. It could have been any other fate besides forced marriage. Either way, there was no guaranteeing Cormac wouldn’t use her for his own greed.
And he had succeeded today, but Maeve wasn’t entirely sunk with resignation.
She may not have been able to get out of this ruse of a marriage, but she would make sure to get herself out of Jonathan Riley’s claws. Even if she died trying. In the meantime, she’d be sure to give him hell.
“You’ve just made the worst decision of your life,” she gritted, breaking the heavy silence between them. “Marrying me. You’ll regret it.”
Jonathan kept his eyes on the road, but he nodded, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “The best decisions are always the worst ones.”
“Whoever told you that was a liar.”
His lips curled gently, and she hated it. Hated that he found her frustration amusing.
