Chapter 5

It’smy mother who walks me down the aisle full of strangers. The attendees hunch toward each other and whisper as I pass, wondering who I am, what I look like, and how I managed to snag one of the world’s most eligible bachelors.

Mateo waits for me with a rakish grin that reminds me of our short time together. How he’d knelt before me and gave me that sinful kiss.

It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to collapse.

Now everyone will know you are mine, he’d said right after he collared me. I’ve never felt so owned before, even under my mother’s watchful gaze.

Mateo graciously accepts me at the altar, and we say the words that are supposed to bind us throughout our lives together, however short his might be.

I almost feel bad that I picked someone so young and full of life and wonder if perhaps Mother was right. But it’s too late for regrets now. He’s just a job. A way to win my freedom.

But what will I do with such freedom?

When the priest finally says, “You may kiss the bride,” I turn to my new husband, and he lifts my veil, removing the white haze clouding the chapel.

Then I…I…

I forget everything.

He glares down at me, his eyes dark and dangerous.

This isn’t a man who wants a happy home. He wants to destroy me. To ruin me for the world.

I guess I’ll have to kill him first.

He pulls me to him, holding me against his body in a way that’s altogether immodest at a wedding, and brings his mouth to mine.

“You belong to me,” he whispers as our lips touch. His dark promise reverberates through me, sending my heart racing in my chest.

He places one hand at the back of my neck and holds me in place, deepening our connection as his other hand finds my waist, keeping me firmly pressed against him.

My training didn’t prepare me for the feelings that now course through my veins. How sinful I’d feel. How much I’d like it.

When he finally pulls away, I’m left gasping for breath. The crowd murmurs, and I look over, seeing a mixture of amused and shocked guests.

“Let’s get this charade over with,” he whispers into my ear.

We walk down the aisle and I see that many of the older women look away, blushing. They’re embarrassed for me because of his chauvinist display at the altar. Or maybe it’s the necklace he gifted me. The one that’s really just a collar.

Throughout dinner, I’m kept at a high table, with my mother clear on the other side of the room. He doesn’t introduce me to anyone who comes up to greet us, save three people: his granddad, his mother Bella Donna, and his sister Maria.

His granddad commented on my beauty, but Mateo’s reply was bitter, without a note of happiness. His mother looked me up and down, nodding in approval and his sister looked at me with such scorn, you’d think I was gum stuck to her shoe. She finally forced a tight smile, but there was no warmth to it, and there were daggers in her eyes.

After the cake is served, he leans over and whispers, “I’ve had just about enough of this.” He gets up and offers his hand to me.

“I must see my mother before I leave,” I say sweetly to Mateo.

I look over at my mom, who is seated at a table full of people who look like they’re a breath away from death’s door, and gesture for her to come over.

“Nonsense—”

But my mother is swift, and already just a few feet away from our table. Refusing her would cause a scandal, so Mateo sucks in a breath and glowers.

Wrapping me in a hug, she hisses, “You idiot,” under her breath.

“It’ll be fine,” I tell her, winking as I pull away.

“If you could excuse us, Herminia,” Mateo deadpans. “It is time I take my wife to her new home.”

“Of course! And where will we be going?” she asks, licking her lips, using every bit of her charm on my new husband.

“Me and my wife will be going somewhere private.”

Mother tilts her head to the side, tittering lightly. “You’d agreed that I’d be part of the deal, remember? It’s in the contract. But don’t worry. I promise not to bother you on your wedding night.” She waggles her brow seductively.

“The deal was that I provide for my wife and her mother, not that we would be housed under one roof.” he smiles wolfishly. “I should know. I’m the one who wrote the contract.”

Before my mother can protest, Mateo dips and throws me over his shoulder.

I gasp, struggling to get free, but Mateo holds me in place with an iron grip as he exits the room, bringing me to the elevator.

After the doors close, he sets me down, and even stops me from falling.

“What…what was that?” I rush out in a tone mixed with confusion and fury. “My mother?—”

“Tell me, wife, whose idea was it to put you on Wife For Hire?”

My cheeks flush.

“She did. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“She just wanted to ensure?—”

“That she was kept well.”

He’s right. One of my mother’s greatest fears is to be relegated to servant status, which she is dangerously close to. It was her mentorship to me which kept her from that role.

“Ivy, I want to make this clear. I was very careful when I drew up our contract. I knew what the parameters were for keeping your mother in our residence, and you’ll be happy to know I have the perfect place for her.”

Something about his choice of words has me on edge, but it would do me little good to challenge him now. If he wants power, I’ll give it to him, because power isn’t something I need.

He presses the STOP button and the elevator halts.

“Now, Ivy,” he says, taking a step toward me, pushing me into the corner of the elevator. “I want to make this perfectly clear before we continue our farce of a marriage.” His breath on my neck sends my pulse racing at the prospect of what that sinful mouth will do to me. “You belong to me now. I own you. You are my wife—and your existence is at my pleasure.”

I feel a sudden, unfamiliar rush through my body that all but brings me to my knees. As an unblooded Sister, I’ve been taught precious little of sex, because when our first mark takes us, it must be genuine and innocent. We are denied any form of sexual gratification, and our inexperience endears us to our ill-fated husbands.

After a widow kills her first mark, they have what’s called their Carnal Education. Teachings every black widow must go through once they are blooded.

“Tell me, Ivy,” Mateo says, his head bent so that his lips gently graze my ear. “What makes you wet?”

My jaw drops because a first husband is never supposed to say such things to his innocent wife. They’re supposed to be protective of their wife’s virtue while reserving their more primal urges for the whores in their lives.

He places two fingers under my chin and brings my gaze to his. “Tell me.”

I shudder at his words. At how my legs are now clenched, my knees pressed together. At how I feel so much, everywhere.

“Ivy!” he snarls.

“Nothing,” I tell him.

He chuckles. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, Ivy.”

“I’m not lying. It’s just…” How do I put into words that just a week ago, I felt dead between my thighs? Not that I was defective. The Web is thorough, and they know how volatile wanton lust can be. So it’s medicated out of the unblooded.

“Was it your mother who kept you innocent?” Mateo demands.

I nod, unable to think up a lie.

“Her influence stops now.”

I look away, but his fingers under my chin pull my gaze back to his. “Say it.”

“Understood.”

“Good girl.” He brushes stray strands of hair away from my face and brings his mouth an inch from mine. “Now tell me what makes you wet.”

“You,” I say without thinking, and truthfully, he’s the only person who has.

“I’m going to make it my mission to find every way to make my wife wet. Every. Single. One.”

I swallow a lump that’s formed in my throat as I try to control the absolute chaos of my emotions. What little good it does me. I wasn’t trained for this.

His free hand snakes to my back, and I feel my bodice come loose.

“When I’m done with you, Ivy, I’ll be all you ever think about. Day and night. Winter, summer, and all the seasons in between. You will want me. No matter how far I am from you, your body will sing in memory of the sins I’ve committed against it. You will never know peace, and it will make you hate me.”

His mouth crashes against mine, plundering my very soul from my body. It steals my sanity and every ounce of good sense left in my once logical brain. And as it continues, with his tongue gliding along mine and his hands growing tight and possessive, I start to lose myself.

I forget who I am. Who he is. And what this all means.

And Great Widow help me, I moan.

His mouth smiles against mine and he chuckles as he pulls the bodice of my dress down to my waist, exposing my unclaimed breasts.

Every part of me feels alive and completely scandalized, and as much as I want to resist any form of desire for him, I find myself wanting more.

Pulling off my mouth, he whispers, “You’re so goddamn beautiful. Every part. And I’m going to enjoy defiling you.” His hand closes around my breast as he kisses a trail from my mouth, down my neck, to my puckered nipple.

Digging my fingers into his hair, I throw my head back against the elevator wall and arch, shoving my breasts in his face. Which is a surprise, because I would never act so crass.

He pulls away, and the elevator starts to move again.

Stunned, I look at him, wide eyed and expectant.

His eyes scan me, crown to toe, and back up again.

“Take off your dress,” he demands.

“But—”

“Take it off!”

I reach behind me to yank the rest of the buttons open, and let the wedding dress fall to the floor, leaving me in just my shoes, because he’d already claimed my panties in my bridal suite.

“I truly could not have found a prettier wife had I scoured every corner of the earth.”

I should be pleased at his compliment, yet his words bring me no comfort. This man isn’t who I thought he would be. He’s barbaric, crude, and has no regard for my propriety. Rich men aren’t supposed to treat their wives like whores.

The elevator doors part, and I see the open air. A helicopter waits in the distance with the rotor spinning.

A man in all black walks towards us, and I realize I’m naked, but as I go to cover myself, Mateo snaps, “Don’t.”

I’m torn between my modesty and obeying my new husband. Thinking back to my training, I know I must do as I’m told, even if it means utter humiliation.

Without looking at me, the man tells Mateo, “Everything is ready, boss.”

“Good.” Without warning, Mateo turns, dips, and once again, throws me over his shoulder.

Great Widow, give me strength.