Chapter 9

A teamof four women gets me ready, all while the bitter snake lurks in a corner.

It’s been three days since I saw my husband, which was on our wedding night. I exist solely for a man who seemingly cares little to see me, let alone fuck me.

I will not regret ending his life.

Over the course of three hours, the women transform me into a different person entirely, enhancing my hips, butt, and breasts by way of a tailor they brought with them who sews my dress in such a way that it looks like it’s painted on.

While they work, they hardly say a word, and treat me as little more than a peasant, which I can only assume is due to the lurking snake.

Once they’re through, they step away from me, mumbling amongst themselves as they nod their heads.

I feel like an alien, which fills me with regret. My father, who was a terrible man, doted on my mother, buying her everything her heart desired until the day she cut him down.

Whereas I could go years locked in a room.

Hopefully, his treatment of me is just a power play. A way to assert his dominance. One day soon, I’ll be with my mother again. I just need to be patient.

The snake steps forward, coming between me and the others.

“All you’ve done is take her from banal to mediocre. I expected more for such an exorbitant fee.”

The tallest of the women steps forward. “Is there something more we could?—”

“You could leave.”

The women pack up their things and file out of the room, leaving me with the pretty snake who so loves to hate me.

“Remember that when you’re out, you reflect on Mateo and his entire family.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that.”

Without another word, the snake leaves the room, though for once, I don’t hear the click of the lock.

I walk over to the full-length mirror and look at another version of myself. The maroon corset chosen for me is fitting in Mateo’s dark, gothic manor, and I have to admit, I love the way it accentuates my hips. A black leather strip was fitted over my pink collar, so that it now matches.

Gone is the girl that I was. In her place is someone else entirely. Someone I don’t recognize.

My mother wouldn’t have dressed me like this, as it’s too risque, but apparently, it’s what my husband prefers.

Pressing my eyes closed, I think back to my mother’s advice, hoping that with a plan, confidence will manifest.

Never tell a man everything, keep them wanting more, and always have a backup plan.

Unfortunately, in my situation, the advice doesn’t apply. Mateo doesn’t care to get to know me, he’s gone three days without seeing me, and it’s impossible to have a backup plan when you’re locked in a room all day.

But that could all change tonight.

The door opens again, and the snake gestures for me to follow.

Within these walls, nothing feels safe or warm. There is no room for comfort or relaxation. Not when everything is a threat.

I’m escorted to the elevator, which we take to the ground level.

When the doors open, it’s Mateo that I see. Tall and broad, with a hint of danger lurking in his eyes.

It’s hard to describe how beautiful he is, because words simply aren’t enough to capture the feelings coursing through my veins.

I hate him. Of that, there is no question.

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him in some small way in my mind, and a very big way between my thighs.

With an old man, I wouldn’t be so conflicted, but no amount of girlish lust will change my husband’s fate.

This man is marked for death.

By my hands.

I step out from the elevator, and he takes a step forward, bowing respectfully. Which is…shocking.

“You look beautiful,” Mateo says as he presents me with a box. I lift the lid and find a gorgeous Victorian necklace strewn with dark gems and beads.

“Will you be taking off my collar?” I ask in surprise.

“No, my dear wife. This attaches to it.”

Without warning, he reaches to caress my cheek. Startled, I take a step back, but the snake’s hand presses against my back, shoving me forward so that I nearly fall into Mateo.

“Sorry!” I blurt, my eyes trained on the floor.

He lifts my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “There was no reason for you to be. It was Jade who was careless.” He looks past me, over my shoulder. “Apologize to my wife.”

“My apologies for pushing too hard, my lady. I did not want your clumsiness to result in an accident,” the snake says.

Mateo’s jaw visibly clenches, but he says nothing as he takes the jewelry from the box.

“Turn for me,” he instructs.

I obey, turning to face his assistant, who is scowling.

“From now on, you’re to address my wife as Mrs. Rossi,” he tells the snake. “Do you understand?”

She nods once. “As you wish.”

Mateo clasps the attachment to my collar, and I feel the center gem dangling just above my cleavage.

Mateo turns me back around, bringing eyes from my crown to my heels. “Exquisite.”

A prickle of pride blooms within my chest, though why I should feel it confuses me. I don’t love this man, and I never will.

And yet, his praise is like the sun on my flesh, basking me in warmth.

Mateo extends an elbow out for me. “Come. We have reservations at Deco 6 and it would be good of us to be on time.”

I loop my hand through his arm and allow him to lead me outside to a waiting limousine.

* * *

Ivy

Hand in hand, we walk through a gauntlet of photographers to the Deco 6 elevator. Mateo stops more than once to pose and joke with the eager paparazzi, seemingly a different man than who I’d married.

Which is unfortunate considering widows aren’t supposed to seek attention.

Rarely does a widow marry someone of celebrity status, because the risk is simply too great, and there are plenty of men who make a lot of money that keep a low profile.

The elevator stops at one of the top floors, and we walk out into a lavish foyer that has aquariums for walls.

A sense of dread needles me as I watch the beautifully colored fish dart through their tank, because I know what it’s like to be caged.

And not just my marriage.

My whole life has been controlled, my one hope being my first mark, because in order to make it out of the Sisterhood, you have to kill at least once. It’s their insurance policy to make sure you don’t run to the cops.

The hostess takes us to our seat and pours us two glasses of wine.

“You seem tense,” Mateo says, extending his hand across the table and folding it over mine.

Sometimes, honesty is the best policy.

“Well, I have spent the last three days half-naked in my room, so forgive me if I make poor company.”

“With a body like yours, you should be fully naked all the time.”

I arch a brow. “So you can leave it unattended?”

He smirks and licks his sinful lips. “So that’s why you’re upset with me.”

My cheeks flush with color. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Stop pretending as though you didn’t thoroughly enjoy what I did to you on our wedding night.”

I smile demurely, playing the role of innocent, young wife to perfection, because it’s what I’ve been trained to do.

Changing the subject, Mateo asks, “Tell me, Ivy, what would you fill your time with if you had a choice?”

“Wearing more clothes.”

“Then you should be happy to know your wardrobe should be arriving now.”

“My wardrobe?”

“I saw what you wore in your Chatter account, and it’s simply unacceptable for a woman of your status.”

“Do you take umbrage with my yoga pants or my sundress?”

“To both. No wife of mine will wear discards from the local Salvation Army.”

“They’re from Target!”

“As my wife, you have an image you must uphold, and tacky fabrics are a risk I cannot justify.”

I snort out a laugh. “If the public only knew the accommodations you kept me in.”

“Do you think your decor is cheap?”

Shrugging, I reply, “It’s…different. Lavish, yet macabre.”

“The building is called Black Thorn Manor. It was once a slaughterhouse, so the decor is fitting.”

My heart skips a beat as I wonder what his family was slaughtering.

“I brought you there because I wanted to get away from the usual places people would look for us. So that we might have some privacy.”

“Privacy from my own mother?”

“Her, most of all.”

“Our contract promised?—”

“That she’d be sheltered in my home. And she is. Just not the one you’re in. And before you ask, the answer is no.”

There’s no point in fighting him. He owns my life.

“When will I get to see her again?”

“When it suits me. Now tell me, wife, how have you been filling your days?”

I could say something meek and submissive, telling him how I dream of starting a family. But something tells me Mateo responds better to blunt jabs.

“Reading, playing solitaire, and dreaming about shoving a fork in your assistant’s eye.”

“Ah, a life of leisure, as many women yearn for.”

I snort. “A life of boredom is more like it.”

“And what would you do with your time if you could fill it any way you choose? Aside from assaulting my innocent assistant.”

“Your assistant is hardly innocent!”

“Do I sense a hint of jealousy in your tone?”

“No—of course not!”

“Well, fear not, my dear wife, for as pretty as my assistant is, she hardly holds a candle to the woman she now serves.”

“Serves? Is that what you call it when she pokes me each morning and brings me my meals?”

“What else would you call it?”

“Lording power over me.”

“I’ll admit that she probably doesn’t love her new role, but she’s one of the few people I trust for the job.”

Unable to stop myself, I ask, “So, what exactly was her old role?”

Mateo smirks. “She’s always been my assistant.”

My brow lifts. “Nothing more.”

“Nothing of importance.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, dear husband, because women are petty as fuck and I’m bearing the brunt of her scorn.”

His eyes flicker with amusement, and I realize I’ve been baited into a trap. His vanity demands I be jealous and fight for him, and perhaps I should, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“Gardening,” I finally say between bites of food.

“That’s what you’d spend your time doing?”

“That, and I’d like a few chickens, but I don’t know how good I’d actually be at keeping them alive.”

“Chickens? Why would you want chickens?”

Shrugging, I tell him, “As a child, it was mostly just me and my mom. I didn’t have any friends. Boys have dogs, so why can’t a girl have a chicken?”

“Wouldn’t a cat suit you better?”

“Cats are free, and I’ve always been caged.”

“Don’t chickens have the run of the farm?”

“I suppose some do, but many are kept in coops, sometimes to manage them better, other times for their own safety. Still, whether they know it or not, they have no freedom.”

Perhaps I was too honest, but being honest at the right times is essential to my mission.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I’ll not be having chickens running around any of my penthouses.”

“Then you really should relieve Jade of her duties.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Pardon?”

“I know a chicken head when I see one,” I snicker.

He belts out a laugh, a smile lingering on his lips.

“I see you don’t deny it.”

“Does it make you jealous?”

“Why would I have reason to be? As you so clearly indicated during our short courtship, this isn’t about love. It’s about securing your line. You could have easily chosen to marry her and she would have jumped at the opportunity. Yet, it’s me you picked,” I say, spelling it out for him that his shenanigans won’t make me jealous, which is a bold move.

My entire image was crafted to be sweet and innocent. Docile and pure. Breaking from that is undoubtedly a mistake, but the fa?ade isn’t easy to maintain around my cocky husband.

Perhaps if I were smarter and more patient, I’d be a better actress, but judging by the intrigued look Mateo is giving me, I’d say I’m playing my role just fine.

He finishes a bite of food, sits back in his chair, and dabs his mouth with his napkin. “So, tell me. If what you assume is true, why do you think Jade is still around, giving you fertility shots each morning?”

“Because she’s all-in with you and hopes it won’t work out between us. Once I’ve somehow failed you, she’ll swoop in and show you how accommodating she is.” I tilt my head to the side and lick my lips. “How utterly reliable and devoted.”

“I see you’ve proven me wrong.”

“How so? I doubt you failed to realize your ‘assistant’s’ intentions.”

“I’d thought it was your mother who was opportunistic, and you were simply a pawn. Yet, here you are, just as calculating and strategic as she is.”

“I know a thing or two about motives, yes, but I’d hardly call myself an opportunist.”

“Then what would you call yourself?”

Go with honesty.

I look down at my lap, frowning. “A pawn, as you’d surmised. I’m a pawn, meant only to make my mother’s life easier because she couldn’t manage that herself.” I look up at him, locking eyes. “So if you think I’m some masterful player, dear husband, you have it all wrong. I’m a chess piece that’s well aware of how this game is played.”

As we finish our dinner in silence, dread climbs through me like Ivy, because I can see now that I’ve stepped too far from the person I’m supposed to be.

Stifle your pride is something my mother said to me more times than I care to remember throughout my childhood, as though it were a bible verse.

Unfortunately, it’s a lesson I chose to learn the hard way. Instead of playing innocent to Jade’s motives, I called them out, and now Mateo knows something about me he shouldn’t. That I’m more than just a pretty pawn.

Not that it matters. He’s fully committed to the situation, and as time goes on, his guard will come down.

And eventually, when he least expects it, it’ll all end.

By my hand.

We finish our meal, and without a word, Mateo leads me from the restaurant to his limousine, but as I settle into my seat, he points to the floor of the vehicle.

“On-your-knees,” he says, enunciating each word pointedly.

I obey, casting my eyes down.

He lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Let’s see if you’re any better than Jade is.”

I swallow as I mull over his words, wishing I hadn’t been so forward during dinner.

It’s not that I hadn’t expected that this would be required of me, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about the act, but feeling the weight of his gaze and knowing that I’m being compared to another needles me with annoyance.

“Undo my pants,” he instructs.

Knowing it would be a mistake not to comply, I work the slack of his belt through the buckle, unfastening it to get to his button and zipper.

“Look at me,” he says, and again, I obey.

“Pull my cock out.”

It’s not as easy as I thought I’d be, as it’s straining against his unyielding boxers, but as he shifts, I manage to free his erection, which somehow seems larger than it was just a few days ago.

“Now, dear wife, I want you to suck my cock so good, so filthily, I’ll never think of Jade again.”

Instinctually, my mouth fills with saliva, and a prickle of desire makes the act I’m about to perform not only tolerable, but enticing.

Lust isn’t supposed to come to me so easily. Especially since I hardly know what I’m doing, as I was purposefully kept innocent for my first husband.

Still, I want to please Mateo, and not just for the sake of my ruse. I want to be filthy.

I grab the base of his shaft, but he promptly pulls it off. “Spit into your palm,” he instructs.

I obey, then move my hand back to his shaft, familiarizing myself with his silky-steel texture.

“Good girl,” Mateo rasp, his voice thick and husky.

I work my hand up and down his shaft, watching as a milky-white pearl forms at the head.

I shouldn’t want him this badly. I shouldn’t want him at all. Yet, the blood coursing through my veins tells me differently.

Closing my eyes, I engulf him, pulling him so far back into my throat, I gag.

“Easy now,” he whispers, running his fingers through my hair. “Go slow, make it wet.”

Ever so gently, he guides my head up and down his shaft, telling me what he likes and how hard I should suck.

My whole body responds to the vulgar act, but the most urgent of these reactions is the strong pulse growing between my thighs.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Mateo groans as more and more pre-cum coats the inside of my mouth.

I settle into a rhythm, enjoying every moan that slips past his lips, relishing his heat and overwhelming presence.

But just as I feel him tense, he pulls me off and shoves me to the floor of the limousine.

Startled, I try to sit up, but he’s on me, pulling and twisting my body until I’m on all fours and he’s behind me.

“Mateo—” I blurt.

He yanks at the bust of my dress, exposing my breasts as his hips press urgently forward. His cock feels like a scandal, and tragically, I rear back, beckoning him to take me.

Sex is necessary and should never be so desired. It’s a game I have to play to get to the status I so need: widowhood.

“You’re so goddamn fuckable,” Mateo growls, closing one enormous hand over an exposed breast. His other hand shoves my dress up over my hips, bunching it at my waist.

My bones turn to jelly, and he has to sling an arm around my waist to keep me upright enough to fuck.

“I’m going to claim you now,” he warns. “Until I own every part of you.”

Pressing my eyes closed, I say a small prayer to the Great Widow and allow my husband to take me.

He pushes into my tight walls again and again, keeping my hips up as my arms give out and my face falls forward against the carpeted floor.

Like an animal, he’s relentless, fucking me hard and fast and completely without mercy.

And I take all of him, ever greedy for more.

Greedy fingers explore my sex. “Do you like it when I touch you, Ivy?”

“Yes,”I whimper, feeling my body come alive with pulsing need.

A moment later, his teeth rake my back as plays me like a damn flute, two fingers pinching one erect nipple, and two others rubbing my clit in rhythm with his thrusts.

“I’m going to fill you up, Ivy. You’re going to be a little slut for my cum, begging me to cream you.”

Oh, yes. Oh, fuck, yes…

“Morning, noon, and all fucking night long, I’m going to own your sweet pussy.”

His fingers roll across my clit relentlessly, driving me closer to the edge, until I’m right there.

“I want to feel you come for me, Ivy. I want you to milk my fat cock like the filthy girl you are.”

I-let-go.

My body erupts as I’m swept away, coming just how he wanted me to.

“Fuck, Ivy!” he snarls, his fingers now digging into my hip. With one mighty thrust, he pushes me forward, and my cheek skids across the carpeted floor.

Rearing back, I clench around his girth as Mateo fills me, riding the high of my release until I’m drained.

Mateo pulls out, but yanks my hips up and shoves his fingers deep in my channel, making sure none of his cum escapes.

Feeling degraded, I take it all, humiliated that I’m enjoying his depraved treatment of my flesh.

When the car finally stops, he pulls me from the vehicle, not caring that my dress is a tangle around my waist. My resistance is met with his firm hand grabbing my wrist, pulling me to follow him.

Thankfully, it’s dark, and the entrance to his building is in the alley.

As soon as we enter the elevator, he’s on me again, his hands ripping my dress off fully, his mouth pillaging me.

“So fucking sweet,” he growls as he lavishes my breasts with sloppy kisses, treating my nipples to a tongue lashing that has me crying for more.

He moves lower, and lower still, until he’s at the apex of my thighs.

“Open your filthy legs for me,” Mateo demands.

Despite feeling scandalized, I do as I’m told, wanting to please him in a way I should not.

Because feeling anything other than revulsion towards him is dangerous.

“So-fucking-perfect,” he grinds out. Pressing his face to my pussy, he sucks my clit as his cum slides down my thighs.

The elevator door opens, and I hear the distinct click of Jade’s heels.

I push at Mateo’s shoulders, but he growls, grabbing my wrists and holding them hostage as he devours me.

“Mine.”

I deny him nothing.

Jade looks inside the elevator, her jaw dropping when she sees Mateo on his knees, pleasing me.

With my body so exposed, I should be embarrassed, but knowing how badly she wants him and that it’s me he’s so heartily consuming, I bring my eyes to hers and wink.

She glares daggers at me, pivots, and walks away.

A moment later, Mateo throws me over his shoulder and brings me to my room, making good on his promise.