SCARLET
My heart lurches to my throat.
Everyone is now staring at me.
A few whispers fill the air.
Even though Devan’s lap feels oddly comfortable, the glares make it look awkward.
Devan pulls me closer and wraps his arms around my waist.
My insides tingle just from his touch.
“Members, meet Scarlet Miller. My beautiful wife,” he begins.
“Your wife,” a middle aged bald man asks.
“Is there an echo?” Devan responds.
“How do you just get a wife suddenly?” Asks another one.
“We didn’t even see a wedding.”
“That’s because it was a private wedding,” Devan counters.
“A private wedding?” The middle-aged who asked the first question chips in again.
“Have you considered ear surgery?” Devan responds and I have to hold my laugh.
“That’s not how things are done in this syndicate,” another one chips in.
“Oh, really? I don’t remember appointing you as the law maker?” Counters Devan.
The man sighs.
“What I’m saying is, the syndicate tradition has been there for decade. We need a syndicate wedding.”
“That’s for my wife to decide,” Devan says.
“If she’s not comfortable with it. Then we’ll skip that tradition. And you’ll have to wait for my son’s wedding. That is, if he agrees to it.”
The table goes silent, everyone staring at me.
Again.
“Oh, she’s not pregnant…Yet. But we’ll be up all night. I promise,” Devan adds.
My stomach drops.
This is the most awkward meeting I’ve ever attended.
So, if someone is writing minutes, I’m the first agenda?
“Come on, guys,” another middle aged man chips in.
“Is somebody going to say it?”
All eyes remain on him.
He scans everyone in the room.
“Okay, I’ll say it then. Since all of you are cowards.”
He looks at me, and then at Devan.
“How do we know this is not a fake marriage? What do I call it…” He closes his eyes as if he’s thinking deep.
“What’s the word?” He snaps his fingers.
“Bingo! Marriage of convenience?”
Okay.
Now this was exactly what I was thinking earlier.
Calm down, Scarlet.
You can pull this off.
You’re beautiful.
I remember Devan’s words.
Devan’s arms tighten around me, just a reminder
And my waist, apparently.
Is the man bluffing or does he know something?
“Someone finally said it,” another one supports him.
“How do we know this is not a marriage of convenience, Devan. Because hell, the timing is perfect. How old are you turning this year?”
He doesn’t let Devan respond.
“Yeah, that’s right. The perfect age to fit the rule.”
I blink in confusion.
He lost me on the last part.
“How long had you dated before he proposed? How did he propose? Did he surprise you with a romantic dinner or did he just kneel randomly in the street?” The red head who hates me fires the questions.
Those are for me.
Her eyes bore into mine.
The hell?
What is wiring with this woman?
“I’m dying to know. Scarlet Miller.”
The way she says my name makes me really believe we were rivals in our past lives.
Lucky for her, I carried my big girl pants.
I had just forgotten I had them right here.
I look straight at her, as I give my answers according to the script.
“Devan and I dated for one year.”
The red-head leans back and scoffs.
“Oh, come on. How come I never heard about you.”
I narrow my eyes on her.
“I’m sorry, did someone forget to introduce you to me as the relationship police?”
Devan pulls me closer and whispers, “Now that’s my girl.”
His comment goes straight to my pussy.
My girl.
The way he says it in my ears gives me goosebumps.
“Just making sure you’re not some fake…anyway, how did he propose?” She drills.
“Maybe we can have this girl talk over dinner?” I force a smile.
“I don’t want to bore the men with our little girl talk.”
My brain must have misfired.
Because why the hell…
“Yeah, sure.” The woman gives a smile.
Even though we’ve only known each other for five seconds.
I know very well it’s fake.
“Oh, what the hell?” The man who was the first one to speak his mind out about this whole thing being fake, groans.
“This is a fuss. And I’m going to prove it,” he threatens.
“No way Devan became serious about a woman.”
“Do you know what would happen if this marriage was proven to be fake?” Another one chips in.
“Oh, cut the boy some slack. Can’t a man just be happy with his wife without you complicating things?” Now that’s a unique one.
He seems to be older than everyone at the table.
And wiser too..I see.
“The point is, we’ve never seen this woman before. Who knew Devan was in a relationship? And then suddenly he has a wife?”
“Enough,” Devan suddenly bangs the table.
Silence.
This is Scarlet Miller.
She is my lovely wife.
And I love her very much.
And yes, this might be new to you, but it’s not new to us.
My dating life was none of your business.
I don’t recall any rule stating I had to introduce my girlfriend to you.
The rule was very clear when it said wife.
Any more negative things about my wife, and there will be blood on this table.
And definitely not my blood.
Or my wife’s.”
Everyone listens in silence as Devan gives his speech that puts my heart on a rollercoaster.
One second it’s beating in excitement, because of how warm Devan’s words are, and the next, it’s anxious.
Reality hits like an electric shock.
Over half the table is not accepting me.
And what’s this they’re talking about the rules?
Did Devan mention it and I just happened to forget?
Maybe.
Because I’ve had a lot of things in my mind lately.
No, but I would have remembered something as important as…whatever they’re talking.
“I need to use the restroom,” I tell my husband.
“I’ll take you,” the red-head quickly jumps in like she’s been waiting for this moment.
It makes me skeptical of her.
Before I stand up, Devan gives me my hand bag.
“Take this with you. It has a surprise lipstick inside.” He winks, making me blink a few times.
Once we’re in the washroom, I put my bag on a surface before I begin rummaging through it, in search of the surprise lipstick Devan was taking about.
And then my hand touches something…hard.
That can’t be lipstick.
My mouth remains wide open.
And I’m hesitant to take it out.
I know what it is.
How did he even do this?
When did he put it in my handbag?
The red head is standing right next to me.
She sighs as she unlocks her lipstick.
“He put a gun in there, didn’t he?” she asks, and proceeds to apply lipstick looking at herself in the mirror.
My mouth remains wide open as I stare her.
She sees my confusion.
“How did you…”
“Oh, please,” she cuts me off.
“It’s Devan. That’s his move. He used to do that to me every time we went out.”
If I opened my mouth any wider, because of the shock, it might tear apart.
Because, what the fuck?