Chapter 4 - Benedikt

In the blink of an eye, my subpar night shifted like the tide, and my disappointment was quickly replaced by intrigue and a deep sense of satisfaction.

Even if the situation with the article had been less than ideal, I ran with the punches and took advantage of it. I adapted as Ari always taught me to, and I managed to find myself a prospective wife.

It was spontaneous and perhaps jumping the gun, but by marrying her, I was ensuring her loyalty. If she were to become a Levov, our best interest would become hers as well. She wouldn’t dare risk outing our empire’s secrets or swaying the public’s opinion out of fear of suffering herself.

It sounded like a solid plan to me, at least.

By making her my wife, my ambition would come to fruition, and she would have no choice but to settle into her new role, all while maintaining that allegiance to the Levov name.

The outcome wasn’t what I had in mind earlier that evening, but in any case, it was a win for me, nonetheless.

Gemma had chosen the smartest route and willingly left the club with me. Rather than pushing back, she went along with it, albeit reluctantly, with a scared gleam in her eyes.

It wasn’t exactly how I imagined my future wife accepting my proposal, but the details didn’t matter. I only cared about ensuring that the article didn’t get out and securing her loyalty.

That wasn’t the best grounds for marriage—even I could see that. But that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be anything between us in the future. Time cures all, as they say.

The drive from the club to the house was silent, save for the absent tapping of my fingers against the wheel. Despite offering her the passenger seat, Gemma refused and sat in the back. I scoffed, feeling more like a chauffeur than an engaged man, but didn’t press the matter.

I could already see the fear, regret, and anger brewing on her face as she sat there, and there was no point in making it worse. It might not have been traditional in any sense, but that didn’t mean I was trying to be a bad guy. In fact, I was hoping to make her comfortable. So long as she didn’t want to take the offer, I wasn’t going to force her beyond what was necessary.

Given how quiet she had been for most of the ride, I assumed that would continue as I pulled up to the garage. After climbing out, I went to her side like a gentleman, only to find her spaced out and staring straight ahead.

“Is there something interesting on the wall?” I asked, looking at her expectantly. “Something I’m not seeing?”

The faintest, almost imperceptible shift of her expression showed her unamused look, only allowing me to see a flicker of it before going blank again.

It seemed she was going to be difficult, but of course, that was to be expected. I was forcing her hand, after all.

I sighed and leaned in, face close to hers as I reached over to unbuckle her seatbelt. Despite the proximity, she didn’t meet my gaze. The slightest hitch in her breath was the only indication that my closeness had any effect on her.

A smug smile crossed my lips as I remained there, closely studying her features and thankful for my good judgment. It added a spark of excitement to the whole thing. She was beautiful, even out of the club.

“How about we make this easier for the both of us, hmm?” I proposed, carefully moving the undone belt away from her. When she still didn’t move, I brought a hand up and captured her chin between my fingers, making her face me. “Be a good girl and cooperate with me, Gemma.”

Immediately, anger overtook her features as she pulled away, making me snicker given the tight space.

Not given much of a choice, and gradually losing my patience, I reached for her arm and pulled her out.

Gemma squirmed as she bared her teeth at me in frustration, grumbling to herself as she tried to fight me. It seemed the adrenaline had fully kicked in by then, but her struggle was pointless.

Whether she wanted it or not, I was able to get her out of the car, and I dragged her towards the door. Of course, she fought me every step, trying to dig her heels into the concrete, yet she eventually couldn’t resist.

It was annoying at best, and I had to put in more effort than I was interested in giving, but eventually, I got her inside.

“Let me go!” Gemma said, trying to yank herself out of my grasp.

She was getting more worked up by the minute, and I simply couldn’t have that. I knew relationships were work, but my tolerance was waning, and I wasn’t too keen on putting up with much more.

“Feisty, are we?” I questioned, chuckling to disguise the slight doubt as it crept in. Regardless of how difficult she was making it for me, I persisted, pulling her up the stairs with me.

By the time we reached the second floor, she started to lose some of her momentum, and while she grumbled still, it was manageable enough for me to get her to the spare bedroom. Once I had her inside, she pulled herself away from me and put some distance between us, throwing me a murderous look.

Straightening myself out, I met her gaze with a lopsided grin, aware that she would need some time to calm down again. “Make yourself comfortable in here for now. We’ll be married soon enough. But in the meantime, I have work to do and plans to make.”

Gemma looked back at me with wild eyes. They were wide with fear, bewilderment, and, of course, anger. She looked furious, but I didn’t pay it too much attention. There was nothing I could say to ease any of those emotions, and I wasn’t going to waste my breath. She needed to come back down on her own.

“All set?” I asked, figuring I should at least extend that question to her.

Visibly struggling to find the right words, she didn’t say anything at first. Before I could turn and walk out, she took an urgent step forward, looking like she was afraid of losing out on the chance to gain some sort of freedom.

“My work will wonder where I am eventually!” Gemma blurted, stopping herself before she could try and follow me out. Collecting herself, she took a step back and lifted her chin with a semblance of confidence. “If I don’t come in, they’ll know something is wrong.” Her determination simmered into something resembling a plea. “Please. I can’t risk my internship. I can’t lose this opportunity.”

While her problems didn’t mean much of anything to me, I could see clear as day that she was being sincere. Her position really was important; the look on her face told me exactly that.

I looked her up and down, finding that look of silent appeal more attractive than I probably should have.

But regardless of what she wanted, I had made up my mind. There was no going back on it.

After a moment, I scoffed. “Lighten up—it’s the weekend. We have more than enough time to get the ceremony over with.”

As she digested my words right in front of me, I watched as her skin drained of color, and the reality of the situation seemed to dawn on her.

I wasn’t bluffing. I was more than serious about following through with my plan, and she wasn’t going to find a way to weasel out of it.

“Wait!”

Shaking my head, I walked back through the doorway and closed it behind me, silently questioning if I should lock it behind me. With a shrug, I decided against it.

The house security was solid enough to make sure she’d never even make it down the block—if she could even get out in the first place, that is.

The moment it shut behind me, I was met with Gemma’s shouting, cursing at me for everything.

My brow cocked at a few especially colorful things she had to say, each just as creative as the last. It seemed her expertise as a journalist had other uses as well. As far as I could tell, she was incredibly well-researched when it came to language.

Choosing to ignore it, I made my way back downstairs, collecting a glass and a bottle of whiskey on my way to the living room. Dropping myself into an armchair, I popped the top off with my teeth and poured a healthy amount for myself.

Sounding more akin to a screaming bobcat, Gemma was my personal symphony while I pulled out my phone, dialed a few numbers, and made the required arrangements.

She may not have been on board with my plan, but nevertheless, we were going to be married before the weekend was up.

So long as I didn’t have a migraine by then, I was certain it would go off without a hitch.