DEVAN
“It was just a bad dream,” Scarlet says, rubbing my back slowly.
It has a calming effect on me.
I hate that dream.
It has been haunting me for years.
It has always heightened my quest for revenge.
But waking up on Scarlet’s lap?
How the fuck did that happen?
Which part of the dream involved me lying down.
Scarlet’s lap calms my nerves in a way I’ve never felt before.
The way she sits with me like a baby.
I could freeze the moment, forget about every tragic thing in my life, and focus on her.
Her soft voice, capable of putting me back to sleep.
Into a sweet dream this time.
But I can’t.
This is not her responsibility.
It’s a fake marriage, and it’s not part of the contract.
I clear my throat, as I get up.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disrupt your sleep,” I say.
“What? No. I know how it feels, having nightmares. Trust me.”
I have so many questions.
But that will also make her ask me more questions.
I don’t want to talk about my father.
Not tonight.
Or ever.
It’s a contract.
She didn’t sign up to be my therapist.
“Sorry I have given you a tragic wedding night,” I try to change the mood.
She laughs.
“I’d rather have this wedding night, than sleep next to a liar.”
She’s talking about Kelvin but a wave of guilt suddenly ungulfs me.
I felt like it’s not important, but now I feel like even the small lies are a lie.
Lying by omission is still lying.
It’s a matter concerning the syndicate and I don’t want her tossed deep in it, but she’s still my wife, albeit a fake one.
“You should go back to sleep,” I say.
“Are you going to be okay?” She touches my shoulder.
“Yeah.”
Still, she shouldn’t have seen me like that.
If these nightmares persist…should I sleep in another room?
What would it look like if I slept in a different room from my wife?
The next morning, I wake up early to go for a walk in the park.
To take my mind off the tangent.
All I can think about is Scarlet.
Even though I was teasing her, I went against the contract last night.
How are we supposed to stick to the rules when I’m thinking with my dick?
What happened to no strings attached?
Scarlet being a temptress happened.
I should stick to the plan and keep my distance in the bedroom.
Think with the head above your shoulder, Devan.
Well, that’s easier said than done.
When I get back to our room, I find Scarlet is already awake.
And…dressed up.
She’s applying lipstick while looking at the reflection in the mirror.
I had asked Miranda to get her more clothes, and at this point, I’m starting to think Miranda is playing games with me.
Scarlet is in a white, straight skirt, with the length covering only half her thighs.
She’s facing away from me and that reveals just how tight the skirt hugs her, revealing her beautiful curves.
And that ass?
Damn, woman!
I have to fight every nerve that’s tempting me to spank her.
She’s in a black, silky top that’s tucked perfectly.
Her black, wavy hair falls on her back and it looks soft to the touch.
That’s the wife I’m supposed to keep my distance from in the bedroom.
The view of her makes all blood rush south.
And the thought of bending her over, lifting that skirt and sinking into her from behind, makes my cock threaten to pop out.
I’m dead.
She turns around, rubbing her lips together for the lipstick to stick.
Fucking hell.
My mind goes to all sorts of inappropriate places as I watch those lips move.
“Good Morning,” she says, locking her lipstick.
“Good morning,” I respond quickly heading for the bathroom.
If I stayed here any longer, there might be an explosion in this mansion.
An explosion caused by my cock.
I’m going to need a very cold shower after that intense moment.
It’s a contract marriage, and she’ll be gone in six months.
I remind myself after every five seconds.
If I just keep my distance, everything will be fine.
Besides, I’m a busy man.
Six months will be over before I know it.
As easy as that.
I dress up l after a shower that almost took a decade.
She’s on the phone when I approach her. This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
She’s now wearing a purple trench coat and black heels that complete her outfit perfectly.
When she sees me, she hangs up and smiles.
“You’re done.”
“You look so perfect,” I say, unable to hold it back.
Her lips curve into a beautiful smile highlighted by the red lipstick.
I don’t need to see the sun.
That smile is enough to brighten my day.
“I have something for you,” I say, getting the small black box out of my pocket.
Miranda told me she hated red, contrary to her name.
Which makes me eye the curtains.
Oh no.
“What’s that?” She asks, curiosity written in her eyes.
I open it revealing a diamond ring.
“I should have proposed to you first. But there was no time. And we should have exchanged vows at the altar, but there was no time either. But how can you be my wife without a ring on your finger?”
“Ohw,” she facepalms looking at the ring and then suddenly pauses as if she realized something.
“What about yours? You’re married to me. You should have a ring too.”
“Oh, I have it. Just that I wanted to give it to you first.”
I take the ring out and put the box aside.
Then I take her hand.
I start slipping it slowly.
“I, Devan Galloway, take Scarlet Miller, to be my contract marriage wife, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, till six months do us apart.”
She smiles as she stares at the ring.
“This is so beautiful. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. You are my wife. You deserve every diamond.”
For a moment everything feels real.
I just don’t know why.
But I look at her.
And I tell myself she deserves to be happy.
I take out another ring and hand it to her.
She takes my hand.
“I, Scarlet Miller, take you, Devan Galloway, to be my contract marriage husband, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, till six months do us apart.”
There’s no crowd to applaud.
But when she says till six months do us apart, my heart suddenly shifts.
That’s how it’s supposed to be.
Six months.
Contract marriage.
No strings attached.
Then what the hell is wrong with me?