Page 11 of Hunter

Hunter

Isabella’s front gate swings in the wind as I sit in the rear seat of my car, attempting to summon the courage to face her. My driver is silent—the privacy screen has been raised, but the one-way glass allows me to see him playing a game on his phone. He matches three blocks of the same color then they explode. What a mind-numbing pastime. Sometimes, I wonder where Damon finds these idiots he assigns to me.

His eyes lift as if he can see me through the glass, and I raise my middle finger. No doubt he’s wondering why we’re sitting outside what must seem like a random house in the city. My normal brash demeanor is subdued, because I have no idea what Isabella will say when I give her the ultimatum I am about to.

The night of our wedding, we had attempted to make love. I knew she was scared of the potential pain, but when she screamed as I entered her, I hadn’t been prepared for the guilt. It consumed me like a wave of hatred for myself. I’d hurt her. That was last thing I ever wanted to do.

As I consoled her in my arms, the suite door swung open and both our fathers strode in. I’d looked between them, stunned as they were joined by three henchmen guarding the door. It was a mob making their way to battle rather than a joyous family at their children’s wedding.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I roared as they came toward the bed. “This is our wedding night.”

“More importantly, it’s the consummation of a contract,” Isabella’s father said with a sneer. “This is why I would have preferred boys. Girls are pathetic creatures. My daughter, you must do your duty and consummate this marriage tonight.”

My wife peaked around my arms as I cradled her; she shook as the insane events took place. We were vulnerable, naked on the bed. I pulled the sheet around us in a late attempt to protect Isabella from unwanted eyes.

“It hurts,” she whispered against my arm.

“I know, Bella. I’ll sort this.” I kissed the top of her head then returned my attention to our fathers.

“The only way to sort this is to complete the task at hand,” my father shouted. The furious tone something I was all too familiar with in my childhood. He was a bastard in life, as he no doubt is in death. An ending I enjoyed executing myself. “Fuck your wife and be done with it, so we can return to more important business.”

“I don’t need to have sex with her tonight to prove we are wed,” I countered, and the old men sneered. They looked at one another nothing but disgust on their faces. Their men stood shoulder to shoulder across the now-closed door, blocking the exit.

“Unconsummated marriages can be annulled,” Isabella’s father said bluntly.

“We’re not living in dark ages. How the fuck do you know we…” Before I could finish the question, my focus lifted to the small black camera above the doorway. “You were watching us.” I knew my family was controlling, but I’d never expected this.

Isabella’s father’s face hardened as he looked as his daughter, waving a hand at her dismissively. “This one here had loose lips, and I don’t mean the kind you’re interested in. She made her concerns quite loudly to her mother. I felt we needed to be sure she would follow through. But yet again, Isabella, you are nothing but a disappointment.”

My wife’s silent sobs transformed into cinematic ones. She cried openly against my chest. All the shame, despair, and embarrassment rushed to the surface at once.

“Isabella,” I whispered. “Stay in bed. I’ll see our guests out. Throw me that towel, Father.”

“No. Get on top of your wife and do your duty.”

I froze. The words slithered through the room like a death sentence. Not waiting for the towel, I scrambled to my feet and shoved the old man in the chest. He stumbled back, glaring, his weak hands clutching my arms to steady himself. But for all he lacked in strength, his mind was as sharp as ever.

“I said leave!” My voice shook with rage. “Isabella and I will decide when the time is right. This is none of your concern.”

Cold steel pressed beneath my throat. My father’s knife bit into my skin, just enough to let blood trickle down the blade, warm drops sliding onto my chest. “And I said, fuck your wife, Son. There’s more at stake from this union than her discomfort or your bruised ego.” He lowered his blade, and I took the opportunity to grab his arm, twisting it behind his back. It was then I felt the muzzle of a gun resting against my temple.

Isabella screamed.

Her father stood behind me, his finger resting on the trigger. He passed me the towel.

“No,” she begged, wrapping the sheet around herself and rushing to my side. “No Father, please don’t.”

“The clock is running out, Isabella. You and I both know that.” His tone was cold, dismissive. “If he won’t make your marriage official, I’ll kill him and find someone who will.”

“What the fuck is going on?” I growled, batting the gun away. The older man lifted it once more, this time aiming between my eyes. My hands curled into fists.

“Some unions assure peace, Son. Some are business dealings, not romances. Our enemies are watching, even from within our own ranks. Do you not think they will hear of this failure?” My father always spoke in riddles, but this time I understood.

“If you don’t do your duty tonight,” Isabella’s father continued, “you will never see my daughter again. She’ll be married off within the month—to someone stronger, more committed than you. Someone committed to providing the male heir I desire.”

“Or you’ll be dead,” my father added. “Complete the contract to ensure peace between England and Spain. Together, we are stronger.”

Silence thickened the air. Then Isabella’s father spoke again.

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