I stand in front of her and cup her face with my hands. Hands that have committed uncountable crimes.
“Thank you for arranging all this. At least it doesn’t feel like that much of a nightmare.”
She punches my shoulder while I let out a hearty laugh.
“Don’t call your wedding a nightmare. It’s ominous. Today is the most special day for you, and you should be happy about it, with or without the wedding plans I handled for you,” she murmurs and grasps my wrists. “I’m so happy for you, Macsen. You deserve every bit of happiness and love in your life.”
I snicker at her words. “You and I both know love is nothing but bullshit.”
She rolls her eyes with a scoff. “You say that now but I’m sure your soon-to-be-wife will change your mind.”
Oh, you wish.
Davina and I share the same meaning of love in our lives, which is that it is a weakness. It’s for pussy-whipped people and I’m damn sure not one of them.
I let out a sigh before I put an arm over her shoulder as we continue to walk. “Where is your date?” I ask, even though the question itself makes my skin crawl. I hate thinking of her with someone.
“Um… he must be at the church.” The hesitance in her voice is evident.
Father set her up with one of his friend’s sons, but the fucker is definitely in no mood to pay attention to my sister. Nobody in our community will ever be good enough for her because all they do is look at her like a prized possession that will get them power through marriage. But as long as I’m alive, I won’t allow Lara to become a pawn of a deal.
Never.
But both Lara and I are still entertaining my father’s belief that she’ll get married to strengthen the Firm. Let him think what he wants. All in all, I am the boss now, and my word is the only one that counts.
We head towards my car with Theo and father following us, and we drive to church. Twenty minutes later we arrive and go inside. Lara loops her arm through mine as we walk down the aisle and she settles in the front pew. The chattering of the guests and low tuning of the harp fills the space. White and pale pink roses are the main attraction of the wedding decor. A few petals are also scattered down the aisle. My sister didn’t go all crazy with the wedding preparations, knowing well I wouldn’t like it. She kept it simple but elegant in her own unique way.
Father soon joins her. Theo follows me to the altar and stands on my left side as my best man while I take my position in the centre. I nod at the priest and he returns my gesture before I look at the entrance, waiting for Davina. I’ve never waited for anyone in my life. And yet, here I stand today at my own wedding, waiting for my future wife to arrive so we can get this fucking ceremony over with. This is the first and last time I’m waiting for someone.
The soft sound of harps breaks the silence, giving the sign of Davina’s arrival. Everyone’s eyes are directed at the entrance and I follow their gaze.
Davina is standing at the beginning of the aisle, white and bewitching. My eyes take in every inch of her body that is tightly hugged by her wedding dress. A veil is covering her face. My insides tighten for a moment before I regain my composure.
She and her father walk towards me with slow and steady steps as she crushes the soft petals beneath her feet. When they both arrive at the front, the man finally lifts her veil, and that’s when I see how fucking gorgeous she really is.
Absolutely fucking beautiful.
I hold out my hand and Michael gives her to me with a self-righteous smile. Davina stands before me and looks right into my eyes. Her hands are warm in mine as she keeps her head high with pride and strength.
I’ve attended several weddings throughout my life, and in every ceremony, the bride always acts shy and timid. Those women never dared to look at their husbands until it was time for dancing. But not Davina.
She’s nothing like them.
She doesn’t pretend to be innocent or nervous in front of all those fuckers. Composing a monotonous expression, she holds onto her power and elegance like a queen. Her gaze darkens with challenge and competency. Without uttering any words, she’s warning me about what is to come in my life.
She won’t be the ideal wife every male member of our society has. She’ll be herself. She will be Davina. And she won’t break for anyone. But she will break for me. If I have to move heaven and earth to crush her arrogance and make her soul bow down to me, then so be it. Davina will be shattered by me and I vow that.
Her silent manifestation does amuse me to the point it makes my lips quirk into a grin. To everyone, it’d seem like I’m just excited for my own wedding, but only Davina and I know the hidden meaning behind my smile and her gaze.
Game on, Nyx. Game on.
The priest greets us and then the guests before he begins his opening prayers, preaching about the whole love and marriage crap. It’s a tradition to get married in a church with God’s blessing, but I don’t believe in God. He is just a myth among these stupid people to blind them with false hope. Something to comfort those who are frightened that there’s nothing after death but hell. That they will suffer for who they are and what they do for a living.
“Macsen and Davina,” the priest addresses us.
“It’s time for your vows. Do you have your rings ready?”
We both nod before he faces me first. “Macsen, repeat after me.”
“I, Macsen Addison,” I say, “take thee, Davina Kinsley, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my truth.”
Theo passes me the ring and I slip it on her finger before they all tighten around my hand with her nails nearly digging into my skin. She’s mine now, and the thought is making her hate me more. The ring is a two carat diamond with an oval cut, something my sister picked. Quite frankly I’m surprised she didn’t go all out with a much more expensive one when she had the opportunity for it.
The priest turns to Davina who is probably imagining several ways to kill me by now. It’s crystal clear from the pool of anger boiling in her eyes, but there’s nothing she can do about it. We both have no other choice.
“I, Davina Kinsley,” she repeats, speaking for the first time after our last meeting. “Take thee, Macsen Addison, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”
Taking the silver band from Theo, she slips it through my finger, and my insides start to tighten again from tension. I’m officially a married man.
She smirks as if she could read my unuttered thoughts, relishing her victory in making me feel anxious about this sudden turn in my life. If she thinks I belong to her now, then not only is she crazy but she’s delusional as well. This marriage only means that she belongs to me, and we both get to bring our people together.
I never signed up to be a faithful, loving, and caring husband. I’ll never be that person.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the priest says.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her closer to me and her hands rest on my elbows.