by Stone, Piper
“No, just a homemaker.” As they all were. I hissed at the thought.
When I made my way from the oversized entrance to the garishly decorated living room, I couldn’t take my eyes off the small table draped in black. On top was a lovely velvet bag. Inside? The revered Box. I hadn’t made a sound and neither had Frannie, but everyone knew I’d arrived, all turning in my direction. I felt the rush of embarrassment creeping up my jaw and into my cheeks. All I wanted to do was run away, pretend that I wasn’t Stephanie Michaelson. But the Council leaders would find me, hunting then locking me in a cage.
All to keep their precious lives going according to plan.
Maybe the Gods were in my favor and the contents of the Box would reveal everything I’d dreamt about as a child. Maybe.
My father’s face was stern, my mother’s full of relief. I hung back, downing the remainder of my glass and snagging another. All the while every eye remained on me, like vultures waiting for the kill.
“Why are they staring at you?” Frannie whispered the question.
“Because I’m the birthday girl,” I said loudly enough the words filtered into the room.
My father glanced at his watch, exhaling as I walked forward. When he noticed Frannie, his expression turned into an angry frown.
“Hello, Father. Mother. Lovely party,” I said in a fake cheerful tone. “I brought my bestie. I so hope you don’t mind.”
I could see the veins popping on both sides of his neck. “We were hoping to enjoy some of the party prior to the opening, but as usual, you’re late.” He didn’t bother acknowledging Frannie’s presence.
“So sorry. We were caught up in traffic.” I stole a glance at the Box, my throat closing in. Every Council member was in attendance. The sense of dread remained even though I noticed a friendly face, one who acknowledged my arrival in an entirely different manner, his smile warm and inviting. A memory surfaced, one I’d tried hard to place in a locked box. I was reminded that secrets were indeed vital amongst our community. Some things would be taken to the grave.
“Then we get started. The festivities will continue afterwards,” he said in a brusque tone.
There was no need to call for any of the other guests to come into the room, their invitations likely telling the exact time for the ceremony. No one would disobey. I stood next to my father, the smile still plastered to my face. That’s when I noticed Father McGivney had arrived, his attire much different than on Sundays or during church celebrations.
The man had always seemed in such control, as if we were all his disciples. He lifted his glass in honor when my eyes locked onto his.
I had a feeling that to him, this was nothing more than a game, one in which he benefitted significantly.
Father McGivney approached after everyone quieted down, placing one hand on the velvet bag and closing his eyes. He murmured a prayer silently, making the sign of the sect. Everything was so damn ceremonial.
“My lovely daughter’s birthday is today. I want to thank everyone for being here for this wonderful celebration of her life as well as this spectacular gift. We are blessed to be amongst such amazing company, our family and our friends.” My father lifted his glass, expecting every guest would as well. “May God keep us safe and protected, wealthy and wise.”
“Hear. Hear.”
The various voices seemed to echo inside my head as Father McGivney removed the Box from the velvet bag, the rather plain wooden case appearing as nothing special. Then he lifted his arm, the steel blade of a knife catching the light. The beautiful piece was an ancient artifact, only used for this purpose.
Everyone in the crowd seemed to be holding their breath.
I stole a look at Frannie, biting back a whimper. While she was enthralled, I was sick to my stomach.
“The seal is intact, the contents blessed,” Father McGivney stated for the crowd.
The father slit the seal and words of excitement were expressed from several of the guests. Everything about this seemed so wrong, even sinister, as if a deal with the devil had been made. After opening the lid, he turned the Box in my direction.
Even the realization that the interior held the prettiest pink tissue paper only further damaged my mind, my thoughts drifting to the nightmares eating away at my sleep. I could no longer feel my fingers when I pulled the flimsy paper aside, blinking in an effort to focus. Positioned on top was a stunning necklace, exactly what my little girl fantasies had been made of.
The beautiful multi-carat ruby was surrounded by diamonds, the piece the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. When I pulled it into the light, the facets shimmered, creating prisms moving in all directions. There were other stunning pieces of jewelry, followed by a folded envelope. My nerves remained on edge as I opened it.
“Stocks.” I was shocked given the choices that had been made all those years ago. Google. Microsoft. The amounts were staggering. While some were listed in my parents’ names, payment for a good deed rendered, I was still a very wealthy woman on paper, but there was a caveat.
I knew there’d be.
My instinct had been right.
I should have run far away.
A blank line. A fucking blank line next to my name.
I felt my mother’s hand squeezing my arm, heard her sigh of relief.
But there was one last envelope.
I noticed the smug look on Father McGivney’s face as I fumbled to open it, finally able to break the seal. The folded papers entailed a contract.
The horrors of a single day raced into my mind, flooded with the memories of a vile bully, one who’d treated me like shit my entire childhood.
Then the asshole had become my savior, but his heroic actions had been soiled by his filthy promise.
That one day he would own me.
As I read over the details, I realized that every haunted thought, every vivid dream had been nothing more than a premonition. I was sick inside, trying desperately to hold back the tears. How could they believe this was normal or that they could get away with it?
I snapped my head in my father’s direction, searching for any sign he’d planned this. He held no expression, no indication that he’d had any idea. When I shifted my gaze toward Father McGivney, I knew. He’d conspired with the Council on making this wretched decision.
“What is it, Stephanie?” my father asked. I could tell the man was salivating, impatient as always.
I glanced at the paperwork again, fighting the urge to destroy it.
“Marriage,” I managed, fighting every instinct to lash out. “To the son of our enemy. I’m required to marry Christian Baswell Capodanno.”
The gasp in the room was substantial, the meaning clear, and everyone was in shock. I dared give Father McGivney a harsh glare, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment. The bastard was cool as a cucumber. Something was off, all five members of the Council acting as if they were not only surprised but also enraged.
“What. The. Hell?” Nicolas Capodanno asked, spitting out the words as he came forward.
“That is... insane!” my father insisted. “How could this kind of thing happen?” He’d directed his question to the priest, my father’s face flushing crimson from rage. “This... boy has brought nothing but darkness to our families!”
“Shush, Carter,” my mother said quietly, her picture perfect smile remaining. “We have guests. This is a celebration. We can work this out.”
Darkness? I knew Christian was considered a black sheep but why did my father hate him with such a vengeance?
“Like fucking hell we can! My daughter is never going to marry a monster! If you had a hand in this, Father, so help me God.” My father’s threats were followed by scattering of mumbles from the guests, the audacity of my father confronting a man of God disgusting.
At least to all those who believed.
I continued to glare at the father, chills running down my spine. What had I done in my life to receive such a horrible sentence? What was I being punished for
?
“What have you done?” Carter asked in a harsh whisper as the three other Council members approached. “We will see about this bullshit!” My father stormed off, leaving several of the guests gasping in horror.
Father McGivney advanced, looking serene and comfortable with what the gods had done. “I assure you that this is divine will, but I daresay that the choice our heavenly father has determined is an excellent one for our community. Imagine the good will. The prosperity.”
“Good will, Father? Don’t you mean the bridge of power, another notch in your belt? I’d love to find out one day how much your take is.” I shot out the words, hearing the term ‘blasphemous’ almost immediately.
“How dare you, child! I’ve cared for this community as I would my own blood. This should be a time of celebration. You will produce beautiful children together, hope for our future.” Father McGivney raised his eyes toward the ceiling.
The gesture produced bile in my throat.
“This is bullshit, Father. I refuse to marry someone I don’t love. I don’t care about money or the Sacred Sect. I am my own woman.” I tossed the papers into the air, charging my way through the guests, several of whom attempted to stop me. At least Frannie was here, her face ashen. We would go somewhere. Anywhere. I didn’t give a shit.
This wasn’t going to happen.
Not now.
Not ever.
As I left the room, I heard the racking sobs of my mother, her marriage the same garbage that I was facing. I loved her with all my heart, but some sacrifices were unacceptable.
* * *
Three days had passed, the longest of my life. I’d been summoned to my father’s office and while I’d wanted nothing more than to run away, leave New York entirely, I knew I’d be found.
Punished like a traitor.
As I walked inside, I held my head high, glaring at the two men standing over my father while Father McGivney stood in the background, emotionless as usual.
“You’re late, Stephanie. I’m certain your disobedience is something Christian will not tolerate.”
“And where is he, this man I’m supposed to marry?” I snapped, every part of my skin crawling. I noticed the look between my father and his attorney.
“You need to sign here and here, Ms. Michaelson. Once both parties have signed, your family will receive a copy.” The attorney was matter of fact in his tone and his actions, sliding the series of papers across the desk in my direction.
“I don’t want this, Father. I have a life. I know you don’t want this either.” The harshness had left my voice, the fear creeping in. How could my own father sell me off this way? I took a step closer, trying to keep the tears from forming.
I was losing the battle.
My father didn’t lift his head.
“Daddy, please. Don’t force me to do this.”
“Enough!” He slammed the palm of his hand on the desk, moving to a standing position. “You are my daughter and a part of the Sacred Sect. You will do as required. Period.”
There was no softness in my father’s tone, no sign of conciliation in his eyes.
“How much?” I asked, still finding my feet moving closer.
Sighing, my father seemed even more exasperated.
“How much to sell my body and soul, Father?” Now my voice was shrill.
All four men in the room remained quiet, their faces stoic. An answer wouldn’t be granted.
The contract was for my life, the wealth predicated on marriage to a man I’d learned to hate, an enemy with a penchant for danger. Although my intended was exciting, sexy as hell, electrifying my body from the mere thought of him alone, Christian Capodanno was truly a monster.
This was penance for my family’s stature.
This was utter horror.
This was a deal made with the devil and one day, I would burn in hell.
Chapter Four
Stephanie
The wedding night
Intimidating.
That’s exactly what Christian had wanted to be, what he required, the brooding man with the body of a god yet the eyes of a stranger.
Absolute possession, the promise fulfilled.
Fuck him.
Fuck this.
I hated my life.
One day, I would kill my husband. Maybe the simple truth was that I truly didn’t know him other than the few words spoken around the wedding. He’d turned into a suave and feared businessman. That much I knew. And the fact he’d already had his hands all over my naked bottom created another wave of shame. I’d felt his throbbing cock pressing against me, had inhaled the sensuous scent of his testosterone. Everything about the man was intoxicating.
And infuriating.
Then there was the damning experience in his office. The way he’d touched me had been... I mean he was my husband, but he had no right to...
Touch me.
Unravel me.
Please me.
Fuck me.
I was a wreck, but the man was never going to see me sweat. Ever. I closed my eyes, fighting the images floating into my mind, revolted at the urges washing over my body.
The kiss had been sublime, exploding with passion. I’d never had a man kiss me in such a brutal manner. Then there had been his fingers abusing my nipple.
After glancing at the door, I slid my hand into my dress, caressing my still taut and aching nub. The way he’d manhandled me had jerked me out of my padlocked darkness, igniting the kind of visceral sensations that had left me breathless.
Ready to beg for more.
Just like he’d wanted.
The entire incident had been about awakening my desires, training me to accept his sick advances. The bastard had another think coming. I was much stronger than his childish attempts at forcing me to surrender.
We hadn’t had a real conversation, nor had we established whatever rules he so insisted that I follow. I was antsy, refusing to be treated like some child. He had changed since the last time I’d seen him, becoming even more cold and standoffish, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He’s also become even more handsome, every part of him sculpted like some mythological god. My stomach churned at the thought of being aroused in any way.
But I was.
After the horrific event all those years ago, I’d been determined never to think of him again, the yin and yang of his different personalities too much to bear.
At least he’d done one good thing in his life, but that hadn’t changed him. I knew he was just as ruthless and unforgiving as his father, refusing to take the back seat to anything.
Especially a woman.
I moved down the simple staircase just as the last guests were leaving, refusing to acknowledge them in any fashion. I found him, the man I’d be forced to call my husband in the same office he’d finger fucked me in, talking with two men who I didn’t know but I suspected belonged to him in some way.
If Christian noticed my arrival, he didn’t react. He also didn’t cease whatever conversation he was having.
“We’re leaving midmorning tomorrow. My brother will be taking the helm in my absence although I’ll be available by phone the majority of the time,” he said gruffly.
“You need us to do anything, boss?” one of the men asked, darting a glance in my direction.
“Just keep an eye on things. We have investors coming in after my return. I want to make certain that the presentations are ready. The development is important to all of us.” Christian finally turned his head in my direction, his eyes piercing as well as commanding.
I wasn’t supposed to be in his inner sanctum. I’d already violated some unknown rule.
As if I cared.
I moved toward the impressive bar he had in the corner of his office, preparing a drink just for the hell of it.
“Don’t worry. We’ll make certain everything is ready for your return,” the second man said, his voice lowered. I certainly wasn’t to be trusted with my ne
w husband’s business in any manner.
“Good. Just call me if there are any issues,” Christian continued.
“Will do, boss.”
The two men left his office and the way they’d acted was less like employees and more like soldiers involved in the mafia. I had no doubt that Christian had several secrets to hide. When they were gone, closing the office door behind them without being instructed to do so, I didn’t bother turning in Christian’s direction.
At least until he cleared his throat.
He still had on his tux, minus the coat and bowtie. He’d rolled up his sleeves, unbuttoned the now wrinkled shirt halfway down his impressive chest. The same fierce look remained in his eyes, a combination of anger and resolution.
“I asked you to stay in your room. You defied my orders immediately,” he said with no emotion.
“We need to talk,” I suggested, moving closer.
“And what do we need to talk about?”
“The stocks for one. They are mine.”
“Correction,” he said as he rounded the desk, sitting on the edge and crossing his legs. “They are ours. The minute you signed the contract, those stocks not only became half mine but also worth even more money. We’re both rich beyond our dreams.”
Who the hell cared about blood money? “And what about the wealth you’ve already acquired? You have an impressive portfolio of stocks and bonds, many performing well, although you need the new investors you mentioned to keep the wolves at bay.”
He seemed surprised at first that I’d delved into his background, smirking as he glanced up and down the length of me.
“In addition, your company is worth several million dollars, although there are several land developers who have extended overtures to purchase your firm, something you’re vehemently against. Given what you said to your two minions, you’re afraid that whatever options you may have are diminishing. In other words,” I stated perfunctorily as I walked closer, “you need a serious amount of capital to keep afloat especially since the project you’re working on has run into several delays including weather and what some are calling unscrupulous activities. Aren’t you treading on the Taglionis’ turf?”