His widow bride

Chapter5

Damian’s POV

I drummed my feet against the floor, my eyes checking the huge clock hanging over the main door in the city hall.

Zariah was late.

My personal assistant, Leo, walked up to me. “Boss, should we move this to another day? Mrs. Jackson…”

“She is no longer Mrs. Jackson!” I growled, giving him a glare that made him step back. “And she will be here. She knows better than to forfeit this wedding.”

As if on cue, she rushed in through the huge doors, her dark wavy hair flying all over the place, and one hand barely clutching her green purse, the exact image of disarray. The clutch fell to the ground suddenly, and a frustrated groan escaped her lips as she went to her knees.

My eyes scanned the items on the ground, tumbling out of her purse. A rumpled paper, one tube of lip gloss that had seen better days, a battered smaller purse, one bundle of keys, and a manual with NYU's logo on it.

For someone who was married to one of the most prominent families in New York, Zariah sure didn’t look at it. It made me question their marriage. I had always found it strange, but Nathan wasn’t exactly the forthcoming type when it came to his personal business.

And Zariah was definitely that.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" She gasped after gathering her things off the floor and returning them to the purse. She was out of breath, her lips slightly parted, and her chest heaving.

“We should have been married an hour ago.”

She exhaled deeply. "I know! I know! My professor suddenly asked me to get something across to him, and it was really important. I tried to…"

“What did I tell you before, Zariah?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but pressed her lips shut in a second.

“Zariah?”

“That …you don’t care about my classes.” She scratched the side of her head. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”

Zariah hated being controlled. But that was before she got married to my best friend. Now, I doubted she knew who she was anymore.

“Of course, it won’t. We are only getting married once.” I got on my feet and stalked towards her.

“Right.”

"But that was the wrong answer, Zariah." I regarded her coolly. "Your classes are important to you, even if they aren't to me. Communicate that, rather than accepting what everyone tosses at you. You are not a f*****g refuse site."

Her breath hitched at my words, and for a fleeting second, I saw something in her eyes. It was raw and vulnerable. But in another second, there was a glimpse of the Zariah I used to know many years ago.

Just a glimpse.

She squared her shoulders as she stared at me. Still, her voice shook. “You say I’m not a refuse site, but you talk to me like I am. Since you arrived, all you’ve done is tell me what to do. And when I don’t, I feel like I am going to get into trouble with you. It’s scary.”

“You should be scared. I am not one to mess with.”

"Don't you think I know that? Five years ago, you barely spoke to me. And the one time you did, you… You walked out like it meant nothing."

My upper lip quivered in a smirk. “It meant nothing, Zariah. It was just a kiss. One that should never have happened. And next time you are to meet me, ensure you put on a matching pair of shoes. I don’t know if that is the current trend, but it isn’t flattering in the slightest.”

Zariah's head bobbed as she looked down at her feet, a groan resounding a moment later. While one foot was covered in a pair of Converse, the other had an All-Stars on it. She must have had a lot on her mind.

Giving Leo a nod, I walked towards the room where the presiding judge waited. I heard her follow closely. She didn’t make a sound, perhaps, used to holding her breath around my best friend. But I knew she was right there, because I was painfully aware of every bit of her.

Five years ago. I still hadn’t forgotten what happened. It was the reason I booked my flight that same night and got out of New York. I would never have returned if Nathan’s family hadn’t reached out to me to attend the funeral.

That night, something snapped inside me. I knew that if I stayed back, if I lingered even for one more second, all hell would let loose.

After the exchange of vows and the signing of the marriage certificate, the shrill of Zariah’s phone disrupted the silence. Looking around apologetically, she retrieved it from her pocket and walked a few steps away to pick it up.

Her eyes found mine after a few minutes. "I have to leave. My professor…"

“I’ll take you.”

I sent Leo back to the office while I drove Zariah to her school. I felt her eyes on me during the ride, but she didn’t say a word. Not when I tapped the steering with barely concealed irritation, and not even when I held her door open for her like some damn chauffeur.

Zariah stepped out of the car, heading forward without giving me another glance. And then, he appeared, smiling so casually like he’d known her for ages.

“Zariah,” he crooned, wrapping his hands around her in a hug that lasted way too long. A muscle worked in my jaw as I watched his hand slide down her back like he had every f*****g right to touch her.

“I heard about your husband,” he said, patting her hair gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Her husband.

Zariah didn’t return the hug, her hand remaining stiff by her side. But that meant nothing to him as his hand lingered, edging too close to the small of her waist.

Something snapped in me in that moment as I leaned away from my car. He looked up, and I smiled at him, my eyes growing darker.

“Get your hands off her.”

He blinked. “Zariah, who is…”

“I have thought about a million ways I could make you disappear, so get your f*****g hands off my wife before I make my thoughts your reality.”