"Congratulations," Mrs Carter said, her voice laced with unexpected warmth as we walked out of the courtroom. Yeah, we are finally done with the little and closed wedding just having our family.
"Finally… I have a daughter." Her words made my chest tighten.
Then she leaned closer to me before leaving, her voice hushed but sharp.
"If my son ever acts like a cold-blooded brute, don't stay silent. Tell me."
That made me pause with guilt twisted somewhere in my ribs. I had come here with claws drawn, ready to bite before anyone struck a bite here they were being so nice to me. Maybe… just maybe… this wouldn't be as hellish as I thought.
"Mum!" Calvin called and she smiled while Dad and Mum were over toward me.
"My little queen… we will miss you so much." My mum let out as she embraced me.
"Mum… now that I might be away from you, don't cause me any trouble," I told my mum and noticed how she took in deep breaths.
"I will try my best not to," she mumbled even though I could hear that snort behind it.
We disengaged and Dad also embraced me. "Hope, it works," Dad mumbled and I smiled.
"It will." We disengaged and they all bid us bye as we got into the black car now in front of us.
We climbed into the black car, I stared out the window as we drove off.
After what seemed like an hour we finally got to Calvin's Mansion.
We laughed and I tagged along with the quiet Calvin who had refused to say a word since in the car.
The door opened with him helping me out of the car and I walked inside but was welcomed with silence. I glanced around stunned.
"No maids?" Still in his suit, his expression unreadable, he stepped inside behind me. "I don't need any," he replied smoothly. "I like silence."
I scoffed and spun on my heel. "Well… I can't cook. Or clean. Or do dishes. Or heaven forbid sweep floors. I am a spoiled brat from a rich house, darling."
I stepped closer, each click of my heels echoing.
"I am only good at business… so unless you want this castle to look like a cursed tower, get a maid."
He didn't give a response and I just heard his footsteps faintly. Not caring I wandered into the living room, letting my eyes feast on the rich textures and lavish design. It was beautiful… yet haunting. Like a portrait too perfect to touch.
"Your mansion is beautiful." I praised and out of nowhere, a wine glass appeared in front of me, his hand holding the stem.
"Let's have a drink," I narrowed my eyes staring at the cup. "Don't even think about drugging me."
He pulled the glass back slightly and raised a brow. "You have watched too many documentaries."
I smirked. "Come on. I am a woman. What do you think I do in my spare time?"
His lips curled into the faintest smile and he took a sip, slow and deliberate.
"See? I am not dead. Or hallucinating. Happy now?" he said after some minutes of silence.
I stared at him. Then at the wine. I grabbed the glass and muttered, "Never asked you to prove it." I argued as I found a seat near the window.
The view outside looked like a painting of tall trees, fog dancing along the garden's edge, and moonlight spilling like silver ink which immediately made me feel calm.
He also sat beside me as I took a sip of the wine, making my eyes widen.
"Wow… I have never tasted this before," I murmured, letting the flavor linger on my tongue. "It tastes like bottled cinnamon."
He chuckled, walking over. "It's part of my newest collection. I haven't launched it yet." I turned slightly. "Huh. Forgot wine-making is your hustle."
He paused and observed me, "You know about wine?" I froze as my mind raced.
"Damn! No one was supposed to know."
I coughed and quickly covered my mouth. "Well… I drink a lot. You don't expect me to miss the flavors, do you?"
He didn't press. Just studied me like I was a puzzle missing too many pieces.
The silence settled again. But his eyes never stopped burning into my skin. I felt them. Every second.
"Is there something on my face?" I asked, annoyed.
He looked away. "No."
"Then why are you staring like that?"
He smirked faintly. "I am just… confused. You don't act like the type of woman I thought you were." I shifted, brushing imaginary dirt from my gown.
"Well… tonight's our wedding night," I said, turning my head just enough to catch his reaction. "So what do you think should transpire?"
I gulped down the last of the wine, letting the burn run through me like liquid courage.
Then his face changed with concern overtaking his earlier confidence.
"Wait, you finished the whole glass?" he asked suddenly, stepping closer. "That wine has over 35% alcohol…!"
I stared at him. "What?!" The room tilted slightly.
"You call yourself a winemaker and you dare make wine that strong? What is this, a potion for immortals? This should be called alcohol"
He shrugged, unapologetic. "You are in your husband's house now." He stepped closer, reaching for me.
"And it's our wedding night…"
His hands caught my waist before I could back away. I tried to shove him, but he didn't move an inch.
"Ma'am maybe I should disconnect now?" Summer's voice crackled faintly through my hidden earpiece.
My eyes blurred.
But I didn't say yes.
He was my husband now… and whatever happened tonight would be part of that binding, burning contract.
I tilted my head back, giving him a wicked smirk as I tugged him down by the collar. "You are way more dangerous than I thought," I whispered.
He stiffened, lips parting. That wine… it hit fast.
I giggled softly. "Your fault… I feel like a firecracker wrapped in silk." Then I leaned in, my voice low and sultry in his ear.
"Don't you want me?" This made his breath catch.
"You said in the contract we could satisfy our needs if we wanted to," I said now kissing his neck. I noticed how his jaw clenched.
"You have never done this before, have you?" I asked, eyes locked on him. Then suddenly my earpiece beeped.
"Fun fact," Summer whispered. "He had a girlfriend for six years." That stopped me cold.
The word sent a jolt through my spine. I almost ripped the shoot earpiece out, I couldn't explain that feeling but one thing is sure I didn't like it.
But before I could move, his hand curled in my hair and he yanked me closer.
"If you want it the rough way…" he whispered darkly, eyes burning.
"Then let's do it the rough way."