Resentment.
Anger.
Curiosity.
And dare I say it… even lust.
When the car starts, I push all those idiotic notions away and keep my gaze on the passing cold buildings on the sidewalk. Grey. Lifeless. Unbecoming. My gut twists, yearning to see some warmth in the architecture passing by.
‘It’s an omen,’ my subconscious whispers, and to my chagrin, I agree.
This city will offer me nothing but cold winds and dull, empty days.
Can a flower bloom under such dire conditions?
How will I be able to give this man an heir when he won’t even open a simple car door for me seconds after I had pledged to obey, love, and honor him?
I shake that thought away.
No matter the striking resemblance, Tiernan is not the ruler of the Underworld. Or at least not a mythical version of it. He’s not Hades—even if I do share some similarities with Persephone’s plight.
He’s a man.
Made of flesh and bone.
With worldly desires and basic urges.
I’m his now. To do with whatever he pleases. He’ll take me, willingly or not.
Can a woman get pregnant on her wedding night, I wonder? Will one time be enough to solidify our union? Or will I have to spend my honeymoon on my back as he ruts his seed into me?
How long do most honeymoons last, anyway?
A week?
Two maybe?
Surely not more than that.
My head is still working out the math when I feel a little tug on my dress. My gaze lands on Tiernan’s thumb and finger that are currently rubbing a small patch of my flowing skirt in between them.
“You wore white.”
It’s not a question. More like an accusation.
I nod, my throat suddenly too dry to utter a word.
“I wasn’t expecting white,” he utters under his breath.
My forehead wrinkles in confusion.
“Don’t most brides wear white on their wedding day?” I ask after a long, insufferable pause.
“Most brides, yes. But you’re not most brides, are you, Rosa?”
Heat fills my cheeks at the sound of my name coming from his lips. My name on his tongue sounds obscene to my ears. X-rated and salacious even.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. I couldn’t find a blood-red dress that would do the occasion justice,” I reply with a bite to my tone, not wanting him to pick up on the dirty images the sound of his voice saying my name conjured up.
He lets go of the dress and swiftly captures my chin in his ruthless grasp, his gaze, filled with such hate, holds all the oxygen in my lungs captive.
“Black. That’s the color I was waiting for. It would have been less of a lie than the white you chose.” He lets go of my chin and then turns his head away from me to stare out his passenger window. “Lie to me again and I’ll make sure that black is all you know from here on out.”
The threat lies heavy in the air as I take in his black ensemble with fresh new eyes.
I came dressed for a wedding.
Tiernan came dressed for a funeral.
Chapter 6
Rosa
“Can’t you stay just a little longer?” I blurt out and then inwardly cringe at the sound of panic in my voice.
And by the way Alejandro’s brows immediately pull together in discontentment, he heard it too.
“Unfortunately, I’ve stayed longer than I should have. You forget I have my own wedding to attend to when I arrive back home,” he explains, making my teeth pull at my bottom lip at the somber reminder.
Somewhere out there is another girl in the same predicament I find myself in, anxious and afraid of what her future holds, alongside a man who, for her entire life, was dubbed to be her greatest foe. My selfishness in wanting my brother to stay for the entirety of my wedding reception suddenly dissipates, knowing that he too must make the same sacrifice as I have in the name of peace.
Although, I don’t need to nitpick much to know that our circumstances are far from being the same. Nothing is really going to change in my brother’s life, aside from the fact that he will now be tied down to a total stranger. Unlike me, Alejandro will still be able to live in the same house we grew up in. He will be able to enjoy Javier and Francesco’s company every day if he so wishes. He will walk down the familiar halls of our home or wander around in our garden, feeling the warm Mexican sun on his face. And at night, my brother will be able to sleep in his own bed, the only difference when he opens his eyes in the morning, will be the enemy lying asleep beside him.
The six daughters of the notorious crime families that came up with the treaty cannot boast the same, as we will be forever changed. Ripped from the bosom of our families, our homes, and everything we’ve ever known–all of us will be shipped out and delivered to live in cities we had been cautioned since birth never to enter. We will be expected to converse and live out our days with total strangers, and warm the beds of men that at one point would have rather wrapped their hands around our throats and extinguished the light from our eyes.