His widow bride

Chapter3

Zariah’s POV

"She doesn't look sad," were the first words that hit me the next day in class. I studied the arts at New York University under a scholarship, and a part of me thought that I would be able to find some peace here, away from the drama that my life had become.

But it looked like the only peace I would get was when I closed my eyes to sleep.

“Isn’t she supposed to stay back at home?” someone else muttered, not bothering to keep their voice down. “I mean, it is suspicious enough that she got married so young. If I lost my husband, I would be wailing uncontrollably by now, not strutting into school like nothing happened.”

"Stop gossiping about the widow," a sharp falsetto sang as she walked into the class. I could feel her eyes boring holes into my back as she said with a snicker, "That is if I can call her a widow at all. She must be sad. Are you sad, Zariah?"

I made it my life's sole mission to ignore Ariana and her friends throughout my stay at NYU. And not even her foul words are going to change that. She was trouble, and I knew I was better off staying away from her. Everyone knew she belonged to a powerful family in New York.

It was different when I still held on to the Jackson name. Right now, I was a nobody.

"Why would she be sad?" one of the girls asked, amusement laced in her tone. "All of Nathan's money just dropped onto her lap. He was a f*****g billionaire. What do you think that makes her?"

"A pauper." Ariana's mocking laughter felt like sharp knives tearing through me. She threw her head back, her beautiful curls swishing all over the place. "Haven't you guys heard? Our dear Zariah didn't have a claim to her late husband's property. He must have really hated her."

I shifted uneasily in my seat. Had they found out?

The whole class now had their eyes on Ariana, waiting for her to drop the bomb.

"All of Nathan Jackson's money has been willed to his best friend, the sexy and smoking hot billionaire, Damian Rostov. My father told me earlier this morning when I stopped by his office. You know he has a business deal going on with the Rostov Empire."

He did?

Ariana waltzed over to me, her perfectly manicured nails waving in the air and a bright smile on her face. “He hasn’t been in town for five years now,” she continued, staring straight at me. “But then again, can you blame him? He probably ran away when he saw who he would have to share his best friend with. He could smell her desperation from miles away.”

“Ariana…”

She held her hand up to shush me, leaning closer. “My father said he would get me a slot to see the billionaire personally. Who knows?” she shrugged. “I might just be Mrs. Rostov very soon. At least, my husband won’t hate me.”

The irony of the situation almost made me laugh. But there was one thing stopping me. I didn’t doubt, not even for one minute, that Damian would easily choose Ariana over me.

For starters, she was much prettier and had a very powerful family backing her. Damian didn't need Nathan's money. He was already a self-made billionaire, and I once heard Nathan talking about his best friend investing in the Jackson Firm.

He didn’t need any of this.

He didn’t need me.

The picture of a cell came into my mind without restraint, and I felt goosebumps crawl up my skin. Ariana was still leaning so close to me when the doors suddenly opened.

The silence in the room was loud, every single student looking in the direction of the door. Damian was standing there, his eyes scanning the faces of those staring back at him.

And then, they landed on mine.

“Let’s go!”

His voice, cold and distant, reached me where I sat. Ariana pulled herself up and moved to him, a seductive look in her eyes. She batted her lashes and stretched out a hand.

“Ariana Kerrington,” she whispered, not taking her eyes off him. “From the Kerrington groups. My father speaks so highly of you. It’s such a …”

“Zariah, don’t make me repeat myself.”

Maybe it was the way he said it, or the fierce look in his eyes, but I sprang out of my seat at once, packing my books and bag, and shuffling over to him. I walked past Ariana, who still looked stunned as Damian wrapped his hand around my wrist, pulling me with him.

He didn’t stop until we were outside, standing beside his Ferrari, which had begun to gather attention. A few students were gathered around it, gaping. And it didn’t help that they recognized him the minute we stepped out.

I pried my hand out of his, conscious of everyone staring. “Why are you here?”

He walked past me and pulled the door to the passenger’s seat open. “Get in.”

I wrapped my arms around my frame. “I am not going anywhere.”

“Zariah!”

"I have classes to attend, and because of the funeral, the workload has…"

"I don't care about your classes, nor do I care about your f*****g workload. You want to keep your little freedom, Zariah? Then get in the damn car, or else, I'm taking that too."

I shivered from the intensity of his words.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Knowing I had no other choice, I got into the car, holding my breath as Damian pulled out of the school. He didn't say a word to me until we reached a high-rise building in the middle of town, with the name Rostov Empire, written in gold font on one side of the building.

I didn’t wait for him to get down before I did, but he just walked past me, heading inside. I followed him quietly, standing by the door to his office on the tenth floor. He strolled inside and appeared a minute later with a brown envelope.

“What is this?” I asked as he tossed it over to me.

“Our marriage contract.”