Page 14 of Hunted Vengeance

Vaughn can’t give me any information about the man who purchased the chance to marry her. But I’m not sure it matters. I’m not any better than him, whoever he is. It just happened to me in a different way, but I have no doubt that I’m just as shitty as this mystery man.

Sitting in my chair, staring into the dark living room, I bring my whiskey bottle to my lips and take a long pull. The liquid burns as it slides down my throat. I welcome it because at least it’s a feeling, and I’ve wondered a few times over the past few weeks if I’m numb on the inside.

I’ve been doing this every single night since I signed those documents. I don’t know if it’s regret or what the fuck it is. Self-sabotage maybe? But when the doorbell rings, I don’t even bother asking who it is.

I know who it is.

I call out for her to come inside then wait until she’s directly in front of me. Her eyes meet mine, and she gives me a small smile. I do not return said smile. Instead, I watch as she sinks to her knees in front of me. Her tongue slips out as she licks her lips, and then she reaches for my belt.

“You’ll have to tell me just what’s got you eaten up from the inside out one day, Merrick,” she purrs.

That will not be today.

It will not be any day.

She will never know my weakness.

COLETTE

The wedding planningis in full gear. A huge church affair, complete with hundreds of people who I don’t know on the guest list. The whole thing makes me feel absolutely sick to my stomach. I’m not used to being paraded around, and this puts me front and center.

Today, I’m going dress shopping, and even though I haven’t stepped into the dress store yet, I already hate everything about it. Pressing my lips together, I look at the storefront from behind the tinted car window and wince.

Marcello sits next to me. He has surprised me recently. I keep waiting for him to say something inappropriate, but he’s stopped making comments about sex and me.

In fact, he has stopped speaking to me altogether. He’s quietly been at my back with everything that I’ve had to do for this joke of a wedding. A constant that I didn’t know I needed.

I’m okay with that because nobody else has been there. Why not one of my father’s men? Although, I also know that if my father told him to do something to me, he would. I’m under no illusion that he’s my friend in any capacity. That I could tell him anything or ask for his help. I am still very alone.

“Most women can’t wait to try on pretty dresses,” Marcello mutters, the first words he’s said to me in weeks.

Without turning my head, I let out a heavy sigh. “Hard to be excited when you’re being forced to marry someone you’ve never met while simultaneously still being married to someone you actually wanted to be with.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. We sit in silence. I can feel his attention on me, but I still don’t turn to face him. I’m not sure I can stand to see the pity that is, without a doubt, etched on his face.

When he does speak, his words surprise me. “Do you want me to take you away?”

Those words cause my head to spin around, and my eyes find his. “What are you asking?” I hiss.

Marcello’s lips twitch into a smirk. “Something that would get me killed.”

“Yeah, it would,” I murmur.

Pressing my lips together, I shake my head. “As easy as that might be, I tried that once, and all it did was drag this moment on. Find someone you actually like.”

I don’t let him respond. It wouldn’t matter what he said anyway. Wrapping my fingers around the handle of the door, I tug on it as I push the door open then unfold from the back seat of the car, place my feet firmly on the sidewalk, and stand.

Smoothing down my skirt, I inhale a deep breath, then hold it for a moment before I let it out slowly. Straightening my shoulders, I lift my chin in the air before I make my way toward the front door.

My wedding to Merrick was nothing like this one. There was no princess dress. There were no invitations. It was in the church with my father and a few of his men. Nobody else was there, and it was amazing. It would have been out-of-this-world perfection if my father hadn’t been there at all.

I don’t bother trying the door handle. I know from being forced to go to places like this with my father that they require you to be buzzed inside. I extend my index finger and press it against the bell. It makes an almost fairy-tale sound, and then I hear a woman’s voice.

“Hello, how may I assist you?”

I fight rolling my eyes, only because this is so pretentious, but I don’t bother. Instead, I smile, knowing that I’m on camera before I announce who I am and what time my appointment is for.

I’m instantly buzzed inside. Marcello doesn’t follow me. Turning my head, I look over to where the car is still parked. He’s inside, though I can’t see him. I can’t help but wonder why he isn’t coming, especially since he’s been right behind me at every turn.

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