by Vivian Wood
I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Roman could be so damn irresistible and charming, just as he could be an arrogant asshole. I loved both sides of him. Yeah, I could admit it. I loved Roman.
Roman popped the champagne cork with an ease and grace that only a man who had done it a million times before could do and filled the glasses with the bubbling liquid.
“You had this all planned? How did you know I would be here?” I asked as I took my drink from him.
“I didn’t. I had the harbor on my list. There were about ten other spots where I was going to look for you as well. So there are ten other champagne bottles on ice spread throughout New Orleans. Lots of feathers too.” He took a sip of his drink and casually sat back as he looked at me with a smile. “A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”
“You’re kidding right?” I asked. “Please tell me you are kidding.”
He shrugged. “You’ll never know.”
“Prick,” I teased.
“I can be.” His face grew somber. “I definitely can be.” He leaned forward and placed his glass on the table. “I’m sorry, Cheri. The way I went about getting you here, and the way I acted last night was not fair to you.”
“What was wrong with last night?” I asked. “I remember us having a good time.”
His face lit up. “That it was. But you do deserve better. I didn’t bring you to New Orleans just so I could fuck you at a high-end club.” He smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I definitely wanted to fuck you, but that wasn’t the reason I really wanted you to come back to me.”
I raised an eyebrow in curiosity as I sipped from my glass, enjoying seeing this more sensitive side of Roman. It reminded me so much of the boy of years past who had grown to become a man. Warm familiar feelings—other than the passion and the sexual need of last night—came flooding in.
“I wanted you to come back to New Orleans to marry me. You know this. But just because you do know the royal arrangement, and you always have, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a proper proposal.”
My heart stopped. The pounding started in my head again. My ears rang. I wanted to run. Fast.
No. No. Fight it. Don’t try to escape.
It’s Roman.
Roman lowered himself to one knee and reached for my left hand. “My sweet Cheri, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you please marry me?”
I sat stunned, not once having expected Roman to ever do such a thing. My already opened mouth opened wider when he pulled out a Tiffany-blue box from his pocket. Opening the lid, he lifted out a beautiful diamond ring in a platinum setting. It wasn’t so big that I would hate the obscenity of it, but instead it was the perfect size. It appeared antique in appearance, and I instantly fell in love with it. Roman knew my style through and through—feathers and all.
I nodded with tears in my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was acting like one of those girls. The type who cry at amorous gestures—but I didn’t give a damn. This was the most romantic moment of my life, and if I wanted to cry, I was going to cry. “Yes, yes! I will marry you,” I said as I allowed him to put the ring on my finger. It fit perfectly, which again I expected from Roman. He always covered all his bases.
I put down my glass, wrapped my arms around his neck, and placed my lips to his. I kissed him differently this time. Not out of lust but out of love. When I pulled away after the most tender of kisses, I said, “Promise me that we won’t have a huge wedding. I can’t take that.”
“I don’t know if I can promise that. Your mother is going to go crazy. It’s her I worry about.”
“If I can control my mother, will you promise me that you won’t let all the planners and organizers step in? Please?”
He smiled and kissed me on the tip of my nose. “I will promise you if you promise me something.”
“Anything!” I agreed, desperate to avoid a full-blown media circus of a wedding.
“No more running. I don’t want to go to bed every night and worry if you’ll be in the bed the next morning.” He gave me a wink. “I happen to like morning sex.”
I playfully shoved him, but then nodded. “Yes, I promise. No more running. Unless…”
His eyebrows rose and his jaw tightened. “Cheri—”
“Unless we run away together. Together.”
“Together,” he repeated.
“Until death do us part.”
“It shall be our royal duty,” he said as he leaned in and kissed me with all the love of the years past, and all the love still to come. “But,” he said, breaking the kiss. “Now that we have had the light part of this story and did what was needed to officially get engaged, it’s time for the dark side too. I told you that training on how to be a proper princess in my world would be required.”
My eyebrow rose, and I pulled away slightly. “Yes. I remember.” My voice quivered as I said the words, revealing my uncertainty. “What exactly are you talking about?”
“I want you to go home to your mother’s and rest up. I will be there at 8:00 pm to pick you up. The first step of becoming my bride begins tonight.”
Chapter Seven
Roman
“Thanks for coming in to meet with me,” I began as all seven of us took our usual seats.
It was out of the ordinary for me to call a meeting at Spiked Roses, since that was mainly Kenneth or Matthew’s department. Out of the seven powerful men who owned the club, they took the lead. They did a good job running the business side of the club, so the rest of us were perfectly fine with taking a back seat. Spiked Roses wasn’t your normal men’s only membership club. There was nothing stuffy or blue blood about the place. Elite, power, wealth, and sinister delights oozed from every crack in the old building draped in baroque design… but with class.
“What’s this about?” Kenneth asked. Leave it to the man to be direct and straight to the point. He was not one for sugar coating anything or easing into a conversation.
“I’m not sure if you all know this, but I’m getting married.”
“What the fuck?” Harley Crow said wide-eyed. Seeing him so surprised, made me smile. It took a lot to rattle the cages of the killer assassin whom all feared. “I didn’t even know you were hooking up with someone.”
“It’s complicated,” I began. “It’s an arranged marriage that has been planned since I was a child.”
“That shit still exists?” Harley asked.
I nodded.
“Do you need our help getting out of it?” Victor Drayton asked. “I know you are royalty, but I’m sure we can step in and figure this out.”
“I want the marriage.” When I saw all the men’s mouths drop, I added, “I know this sounds crazy, but it is how my family does things. It’s our royal way. But besides that, this chick is everything I could want… or have ever wanted. I have known her my entire life, and I knew this day would come. I know I’m going to sound like some sappy shithead, but I’ve been looking forward to the day that we would both be ready.”
“And you are ready?” Victor asked with skepticism in his eyes. I expected that from Victor. He would never make such an impulsive decision and most likely thought I had lost my fucking mind.
“All right,” Kenneth said. “So why are we all here? Going to ask us to be your groomsmen or something?”
“No wedding plans yet,” I said with a smirk. “That will be its own meeting. But I wanted to tell you all in person that I will be leaving for a little bit. Cheri—my fiancée—and I will be going away.”
I swallowed hard and tried to avoid eye contact with my business partner Alec Sheldon who hadn’t said a word since sitting at the table. I knew what I had to say next would cause the man to explode with rage if I didn’t handle this delicately.
“Cheri. Was that the girl with the wild blonde hair who stormed in here last night?” Lennon asked.
“Her attitude matches her wild appearance,” I said with a Cheshire grin I couldn’t contain.
“Fuck man,” Harley said. “Someone looks whipped.”
I was about to tell Harley that he was one to talk since his balls were under a vise grip with his true love, but I knew better. Whipped by a chick or not, Harley was still not a man to challenge or piss off.
“Where are you going?” Matthew asked, getting back on topic and keeping the business moving forward as only Matthew could do with such ease.
I glanced at Alec, drumming up a way to say what I needed to say but knew there was no easy way. “The initiation.”
Alec’s eyes grew wide and he slammed his hands on the table. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What’s the initiation?” Kenneth asked.
“Tell me this is a joke,” Alec demanded. “You aren’t that stupid.”
I bit back my anger caused by the insult and allowed the man to rage. I understood why. Out of all people, Alec had every excuse for his outburst.
“Can someone please fill us in here?” Kenneth looked at Alec and then at me. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”
“Roman is getting back in bed with The Iron Colt Brotherhood!” Alec said, sending daggers my way with his eyes. “Do you want the girl to die? Because she will.”
I took a deep breath. “She’s not going to die. I won’t allow it. Cheri is strong and really smart. She has had to follow so many rules and follow proper etiquette her entire life. She can survive the initiation. Especially when it’s explained why to her.”
“I don’t understand why you would willingly walk into their grips again,” Matthew said, clearly on Alec’s side. I wouldn’t blame each man for thinking the same way as Alec. But it was different for me. I was of royal blood. Rules were not the same. My rules go back centuries. Old, old blood and even older customs.
“I can’t be the first royal to not do the initiation. I know that is hard for you to understand,” I said, looking directly at Alec. “And I know exactly what The Iron Colt Brotherhood is capable of, but whether I like it or not, my bloodline makes up the society. Just as yours does, Alec.” I took another deep breath. “I can’t ignore it. I can’t walk away. I sure as fuck can’t say no to them and what they require. I’m a fucking prince drowning in tradition, in customs. It’s my life and always will be. So yeah, am I thrilled to put Cheri in the hands of the brotherhood? No. But she knows who they are. She knows what they expect. They are her customs and traditions as well.”
“It’s suicide,” Alec said much calmer than before. “And murder if you put her in that situation.”
“I can handle this. She can handle this.” I looked at all the men who had worry washed over each of their faces. “This is my world, gentlemen. I can handle myself in it.” I stood up from the table and straightened my suit jacket. “I’m not sure how long I will be gone. It could be a few weeks or a few months. If you need me in case of an emergency, you can reach me via Silas. He will be the only one aware of our whereabouts.”
“And the man who will tell us where your bodies are buried,” Alec mumbled.
I already knew I wouldn’t be able to convince Alec that participating in any Iron Colt Brotherhood ritual would be a wise decision. But regardless, it was what I had to do. What Cheri had to do. It was our royal duty regardless of the risk.
“Be careful, man. If you need us…” Harley said.
“Silas knows to contact you all if things get fucked,” I said more at Harley than the rest of the men. I knew if anyone could get me out of a death sentence, it would be him.
“Can someone still explain what the initiation is exactly? What are the details?” Kenneth asked.
“I’ll let Alec fill you all in,” I said as I walked toward the door. “I need to go pick up Cheri.”
I left the room without giving them a chance to say or ask anything else. Unless you walked in my shoes, and lived my life, it would be impossible to understand. Ancient rituals were part of my heritage. I wouldn’t be able to escape if I wanted to. But that was if I wanted to… which I didn’t. It was time for the initiation to begin. It would be the first step in making Cheri my wife.
Cheri
I didn’t have keys on me to my mother’s home, but I was pretty sure she had staff still present. If Roman was supplementing her income—or lack of it—then I couldn’t possibly imagine her not having a full staff to oversee the house. My father had loved New Orleans when he was still alive. It was French enough for him, had European history present that he appreciated, but possessed an American flair that he had simply loved. Prince Roman’s family had believed the same which is why Roman and I had grown up together. We traveled around the world together, but New Orleans had always been home and where we had spent the majority of our time.
Our estate was obviously much smaller than the one Roman’s family owned, but it still was grand in every way. After my father’s death, some had expected my mother and me to downsize, but my mother believed doing so was for commoners—and we were far from commoners in her eyes. My mother was meant to be the princess… not me.
I was happy to see lights on in the house when I pulled up in the circular driveway. After paying the driver, I hopped out with nothing more than my purse. My assumption was that Silas already had my luggage delivered to the house since that man took care of every single detail both big and small.
Before I could knock on the door to have someone allow me in, the door opened and a familiar face stood on the other side.
“Hello, Smith,” I said, hoping I had his name right. My mother had hired him shortly before I left, so I didn’t have a chance to get to know him. She wasn’t one for keeping the help for long. Her demands were hard to fulfill.
“Hello, Miss. Mr. Roope told me to expect your arrival.” He stepped back to allow me to enter the house. “I have your old room prepared for you, and your luggage has been brought up and waiting. I did not take the liberty to unpack unless you would like me to.” His words came out very cold and matter-of-fact, which in all honesty, was not unexpected from a man I barely knew. It wasn’t like he was going to hug me and welcome me home.
“I can do it. Thank you,” I said as I walked into the main room, taking in the familiar setting. My mother was not one for changing décor. She spent a lot of money to obtain the furniture, vases, artwork and every decorative item and took pride in each one. I didn’t expect to find anything out of place, and it actually gave me a sense of comfort, and a sense of home regardless of how cold and sterile that home was. I learned at a very young age not to touch or move anything in the house. Every single item had a place, and it was never to be disturbed unless it was being dusted—which was something only the help did
“Don’t touch the figurines,” my mother had said. “Look with your eyes; not with your hands.”
I turned to find Smith already gone, to do what exactly, I had no idea. Especially with my mother out of town. Taking one last look at a room I had spent very little time in while growing up here and inhaling deeply, I walked toward the massive staircase leading to my room. At least in my own room, I could touch things.
I had a date with the Prince Roman tonight. Cameras, important people, crowds, and all eyes would be on me. I hated the very thought of it, but also knew it was my reality. I guess I should try to look dignified and not like the hobo washed up on the shores of Mexico like many people of my past no doubt expected me to appear.
Just as I took the first step, the front door opened with the energy of a tornado entering the house.
“Cherise! My Cherise,” my mother said as she rushed to me, kissing me on both sides of the face. “When I heard that Silas was going to bring you back from… from—”
“Costa Rica,” I answered for her.
“Yes, Costa Rica. I cut my trip short and chartered the first jet home.” She pulled back to look at me from head to toe. “You’ve managed to not gain weight eating all that Mexican food down there. Good. Good.”
I struggled not to roll my eyes, and didn’t even bother trying to correct her in her assumptions. I had learned a long time ago that effo
rts to change my mother in her actions or beliefs were futile.
A man in a sharp suit walked in behind her, carrying luggage which I knew was only the beginning. I could bet serious money there were more pieces in the town car parked out front.
“You can leave the suitcases there,” she directed without even looking at the man. “I will have someone take care of those.”
Again, I struggled to not roll my eyes. God forbid my mother actually unpacked her own suitcases or even bothered to wheel a small one into the house. My father had spoiled her, and from what I could guess, her father did as well. My mother didn’t know anything but rich and famous. Unlike me, she never had a desire to walk away from it, even for a short time, to breathe and live a normal life. My mother didn’t know what normal was. Nor did she care. Those beliefs were those belonging to commoners… and yes, yes… we were not commoners.
“So?” she asked. “Is it finally happening?”
I nodded as I held up my finger showing off the engagement ring.
She instantly took my hand and examined the ring. “Well, it is certainly pretty. Classy and elegant. I know young women these days prefer the vintage look, though I do wish the diamond was bigger. Something a little flashier since you are going to be a princess after all. But no worries in that regard. You can always upgrade as an anniversary gift.”
“I like the ring, Mother.”
“Oh yes, I imagine you do.” She took hold of my arm and led me to the room I was just in. This really must be a special occasion because she actually had us sitting down on the couch that was once owned by Louis XIV or something like that. “When did he propose?”
“Today.”
Though my mother was asking me the questions a mother would ask her daughter about an engagement, there was not the kind of excitement you would expect between us. I suppose it was because this engagement was expected.
“And the wedding? Has a date been set yet?”
“No.”
“Good. We need plenty of time. There are going to be a lot of details to arrange. We will have to work closely with the royal family. I do hope they let us hire the wedding coordinator because I know the perfect person. And as for the wedding dress, I already have the designer in mind.”