Page 16 of Blackmailed to the Altar

I felt a pang in my chest, his words sinking deep. “You’re not a monster, Sebastian,” I whispered. “But you’re letting yourself become one.”

He stood abruptly, towering over me as he loomed closer, his dark gaze bearing down on me. “No, little mouse. I am a monster. I was made this way, and you can’t change that. No onecan. This is the life I was born into, and there’s no escape. Not for me. Not for you.”

The finality in his words echoed in the quiet salon, heavy and unyielding. I opened my mouth to respond, to say anything, but there were no words that could break through the walls he’d built around himself. Not right now.

Sebastian turned his back to me, his posture rigid, and I could feel the weight of his decision settling over us like a dark cloud. There was no convincing him, not today. Not here.

“Don’t test me, little mouse,” he hissed, his voice like a distant storm. “Don’t think you can save me.” He stalked to the back door and motioned a gloved hand. His men came back in, and the stylist was right behind them.

She got back into place like nothing had happened, and started on my hair again. I sat like a little doll. Every brushstroke felt like a violation, each tug and twist reminding me I wasn’t here by choice. I was his prisoner, dressed up as his guest, forced into this facade of luxury and normalcy as his soon-to-be wife.

Sebastian sat back down a little while later in the waiting area, talking to a jeweler he’d insisted met us here. The man laid out trays of diamonds and rubies, like this was just another shopping day, oblivious to the twisted game being played.

Before we left the car, he’d growled in my ear. “Play nice, or you’ll never leave the villa again.”

I didn’t want to test him, not after the conversation we’d just shared.

“You said you brought the best,” Sebastian’s raised voice grabbed my attention over the blow dryer.

The man motioned to something in his case and said something in his defense, but Sebastian wasn’t hearing it. He motioned for his men to drag the pleading man out back behind the salon. I heard nothing but screams until Sebastian came back inside, with his suit a little wrinkled.

I thought I saw some dark stain on his cufflink, but he hastily fixed his suit jacket. The blow dryer clicked off, and the straightener was grabbed, as the new stylist worked quickly and quietly. The entire salon was tense. No one spoke. Other customers finished their services, and paid quickly, before rushing out with fear on their faces.

Sebastian threw a huge wad of one hundred dollar bills on the counter at checkout, once my hair was finished. “For your trouble.” That was all he said, and we moved back to the car in the middle of a circle of security.

We traveled to a small city, and on some tiny road was a tiny jewelry store.

“Stay here,” he growled out his command, before stomping out of the car, and slamming the door. He walked around to my side and held the door open with one gloved hand, the other extended toward me.

I reluctantly slid my hand inside his, and he ushered me into the store.

“Hello? How are you doing today?” A gorgeous black woman wearing locs worked the counter in a smart, dark blue suit.

“Oh,” I gasped. “I love your hair.”

She grinned and touched one of her locs while I looked at her name tag. Adria.

“Thank you so much.”

I ignored Sebastian as he walked around, looking at each case. I didn’t care what he picked out. If he wasn’t blackmailing me, this wouldn’t be happening. But what choice did I have?

While I looked good in orange, it wasn’t my preferred color.

“You’re welcome. I’ve always wanted to get locs done to my hair.” I pulled at my silky locks allowing them to run through my hand.

“Oh, you should. They would look great on yo–”

“No,” the barbarian that was with me spoke up.

“Excuse you.” He glared at me, and I hastily changed my tone. “Honey, I don’t think you get much of a say in how my hair is done. Besides, locs would be low maintenance for our situation.” I wiggled my eyebrows playfully, forgetting for a second how we got in this situation.

“If you need something for your hair, we can go get it. You don’t have to change it because I know nothing about girly shit. I will learn.” His eyes looked over my head.

He probably didn’t understand why this was so important. But I’d been kidnapped. Even with my hair blown out right now, when would I have found time to do my hair routine?

I turned toward the glass, and my eyes caught on a sparkling gem.

“Oh, that blue diamond would look lovely on you,” Adria gushed.

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