Page 15 of Southpaw Slots

I wanted the fairytale.

Oddly, there was something that transpired during our first kiss as husband and wife. I’m not experienced, but I’d never been kissed like that before. Wyatttakeswith his mouth when he presses it against mine like he wants to jump inside me and squeeze everything out, pulling part of me into him.

Asa and I seemed to share a moment in some dream world that reality couldn’t touch, and I thought I feltsomething. Something true. But I guess I was wrong.

Asa lowers the divider to the front of the car and asks, “Where’re we going? Is the party over?”

The driver peers at him through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road. “Yes, sir. I have clear instructions to take you and your wife to the house.”

Asa sits up straight in his seat. “Wh-what? No way. I’m not going there! Who said?”

“Kline, sir. He says he’s prepared everything for your bride, and they’ll bring the wedding cake over for Mrs. Donovan to save for your anniversary. And your presents… Um, the ones that survived. With the security breach, the guards are already on duty around the perimeter, sir.”

“No, nope. Nu-uh. Turn the car around!” Practically bobbing like a boxer, he sways from side to side, some unseen enemy loitering right in front of him. It’s strange to see him so panicked over going to his own house. What’s his problem? And why is the King of the South letting these other men make his decisions?

“You know I can’t, sir. You’ll have to discuss it with Kline.” A hum interrupts the space as the driver puts the divider back up. I stare in amazement at the grown man child next to me about to detonate, the anger underneath his skin buzzing like a fluorescentbulb.

Shuffling in his coat pocket, he finds his phone and punches a button. “Kline. What the fuck? YouknowI don’t live there.”

Though muffled, I hear the words, “Penthouse too dangerous now.”

He shrinks against the leather and ends the call, slumping down and running a hand repeatedly through his shiny hair. “Fuck.”

Eyeing him, I ask, “What’s the big deal? Don’t you want to live in the house?”

When he turns his head to look out his window, I think he’s going to ignore me, but softly, he responds, “No.”

Oh no. My chest tightens and my hand raises to clutch my neck. A quick breath leaves my mouth and Asa turns to side-eye me. “What?”

“I forgot my bouquet!”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he holds the bridge of his nose and shakes his head slightly. “You want someone to go back into the rubble, empress? I mean, we’re already halfway to the mansion, but sure. Let’s force one of my men to go in and get it for you.”

There’s no stopping them now. Tears spring from my eyes and over my lids. My mother’s handkerchief was around the handle, and it was a symbol. East and South combining with the colors. I was going to preserve them all and give them to my daughter someday. Not anymore. If our wedding is destroyed, will there be anything left of the dreams I had for us?

I try to explain through sniffles. “I-I liked the flowers. He said there was still the cake, though, right? I can still have cake? And some presents? Some of the presents made it?” Swallowing, Asa stares at me, and the sobs overwhelm my lungs as he makes a face of disgust. He doesn’t care.

My mama and papa couldn’t be there. It was a memory I wanted for future children, ones I could hold and not let go. Max has Livia now, and I had Wyatt but had to say goodbye. There’s no one who loves me. Hiccoughing, I get out, “He said—he said there were presents and cake, too. If I can’t have a wedding or a dance… There’s cake, right?”

Asa’s blue eyes squint at me as he leans against the window. “What the fuck is wrong with you? The entrance to my casino just got blown up byyourpiece of shit boyfriend. People may havediedin there and you’re worried aboutcake?!” Trying to stop the wails escaping my throat, I huff in air, but Asa just turns away and mutters, “Don’t worry, empress. We’ll make sure someone saves you some fucking cake.”

“It wasn’t Wyatt! You heard that man. He said it was Strauss!” Would Wyatt ruin my wedding? He may have, but I hope he didn’t. I thought he understood that this was a business deal for me. Although I hoped it would be more. The pain that it won’t be hurts worse than I anticipated. My future as Mrs. Donovan seems quite bleak.

Snatching a glass from the bar on the side,Asa fills it with some ice, then grabs a bottle of Crown Royal and sloppily pours, splashes soaking the leather seats. He doesn’t bother wiping it away. Chugging back the entire drink, he then throws the glass until it bounces off the window, the sound causing me to jump in my seat. He holds it by the neck as he downs more of the liquor straight from the bottle down his throat.

“Max said,” I sniff. “Max said you aren’t allowed to drink around me.”

“Listen, sugar tits. The only way I’m going to survive this marriage andnot kill youis to stay drunk; I can already tell.”

“I won’t sleep with you if you’re drunk.”

“You won’t sleep with me if I kill your boyfriend. You won’t sleep with me if I’m drunk. I got news for you. Our marriage is invalid if youdon’tsleep with me. I bet Strauss wouldloveto run a little demon right into that empty womb of yours.”

He’s right, we do need to solidify the marriage, but there’s no way I’d let him touch me with the way he’s treating me. Strauss can rape me if he wants. Maybe he’d be kinder than this brute.

My utter despair turns to fury and my fist curls, ready to strike him in his perfect face. “You’re an asshole, you know that? I’ve heard about you,Ace. That you can’t even stay sober one day and lost all your parents’ money gambling. That you think you’re some gift to women everywhere and have to have ahandlerjust to wipe your butt when you take a shit.”

“No. That’s whatmy wifeis for.” Sitting back, he rapidly pats his leg with a palm and stares out the window, releasing a loud sigh. “God, I hope you don’t talk this much with my cock in your cunt. It’s gonna be real hard for me to nut if you do. Else, I’d shove my dick in your throat, butno, I gotta make an heir.”

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