Dangerously Mine

Chapter 17

The car ride was a blur of smooth, silent speed. I sat in the backseat of a massive black sedan, my fingers clutching the small leather bag so tightly my nails dug into the material. The driver didn't say a single word to me, and I was too terrified to ask him anything.

As we pulled closer to the city center, the empty desert roads vanished, replaced by towering glass buildings. Then, I saw them.

Crowds of people were gathered outside a massive, modern skyscraper. There were barricades set up along the pavement, and security guards in dark suits were pushing people back. I leaned forward, my breath fogging the tinted window. There were cameras everywhere. Huge television vans with satellite dishes lined the street, and people were holding up large microphones.

My throat went completely dry. A tight knot of panic twisted in my stomach. What is this place? Why are there so many people?

Before I could freak out, the driver steered the car away from the noise and down a concrete ramp into a private underground parking lot. The sudden quiet of the basement made my ears pop. The car stopped smoothly in front of a set of heavy glass doors, and the driver immediately got out to open my door.

"We are here, Miss Jhannara," he said, holding his hand out to help me.

My legs felt unstable as I stood up in the low heels. My shoes made a sharp clack-clack sound against the polished concrete as I walked through the glass doors. Inside, the building looked like a palace made of marble and gold. Groups of people were standing around the lobby, talking in low, serious voices. The men wore tailored suits, and the women wore flashing jewelry and expensive dresses. They looked wealthy, the kind of rich that made you feel completely invisible if you didn't belong.

I shrunk back, trying to hide behind my own shoulders, but the ivory dress forced me to stand straight.

Then, I saw him.

Jacob was standing near a bank of elevators, surrounded by three men holding tablets. He was wearing a dark, perfectly fitted suit. His white shirt was crisp, and his tie was straight. Looking at him, you would never guess that a knife had plunged into his stomach just hours ago. He looked completely flawless, his usual nonchalant expression firmly in place.

As if he felt my eyes on him, his head turned. His grey eyes locked onto mine.

He stopped talking to the men around him. Slowly, his gaze traveled down my ivory dress, taking in the high collar, the long sleeves, and the matching shoes. For a split second, the coldness in his face melted. A small, faint smile touched his lips. It wasn't a warm smile, but it was approval.

He walked over to me, his steps long and steady. The men with the tablets followed him like shadows but stopped a few feet away.

"You're on time," Jacob said, his voice a low, calm hum.

"Jacob," I babbled quietly, leaning closer to him so the others couldn't hear. My heart was pounding against my ribs. "What is happening? Why are there so many people outside? Why are there cameras? You didn't tell me anything, and I'm really scared. My hands won't stop shaking."

To prove it, I lifted my hand, the fingers trembling noticeably.

Jacob didn't reach out to hold it. Instead, he simply stepped closer, his body blocking me from the view of the crowded lobby.

"We are going to meet the media," he said, his tone entirely flat, as if he were talking about the weather. "We are going to resolve our problem. The problem about you."

I blinked up at him, my mind completely stalling. A problem about me?

The words repeated inside my head over and over, but they didn't make any sense. What problem did they have with me? A million terrifying questions started swirling in my brain, making me dizzy.

"What do you mean a problem about me?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "Jacob, please, I don't understand. Who am I supposed to be?" He didn't answer my question. He just checked the plain black watch on his wrist, then looked back down at me. The nonchalance on his face was like a stone wall.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"No! I'm not ready, I don't even know what I'm supposed to do—"

Before I could even finish my sentence, Jacob turned. He didn't wait for me to agree. He simply wrapped his hand firmly around my elbow, his grip solid and warm, and guided me toward a set of massive double doors at the front of the lobby.

Two large security guards pulled the doors open, and the world completely exploded.

The noise hit me like a physical wave. Hundreds of voices were shouting all at once, their words blending into a terrifying roar. The bright morning light was instantly replaced by a blinding barrage of camera flashes.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

It was like mechanical lightning, so bright it hurt my eyes. I flinched, my instinct telling me to turn around and run back into the dark basement, but Jacob's grip on my elbow tightened, keeping me glued to his side. He led me out onto a raised platform, right in front of a forest of microphones. The crowd behind the barricades surged forward, the security guards leaning their weight against the metal rails to keep them back.

"Mr. Mikaelson! Over here!"

"Jacob! Who is the girl?"

"Is she a Santos connection? Give us a statement!"

The questions were shouted from every direction. I couldn't breathe. The air felt thick, hot, and heavy with the scent of cheap cologne and rainy asphalt. I stared at the sea of faces, my chest heaving as a full-blown panic attack threatened to choke me. I felt like a lamb being pushed into a cage of wolves.

Jacob stepped directly up to the microphones. He didn't look at the flashing lights. He didn't blink. He waited for exactly three seconds, and the sheer power of his silence made the shouting crowd slowly quiet down until there was only the sound of cameras clicking.

"I have one announcement to make," Jacob said. His voice rushed through the speakers, deep, steady, and completely unshakable. It carried over the entire street.

He paused, his grey eyes scanning the reporters. Then, he looked down at me, his hand moving from my elbow to slide around my waist, pulling me firmly against his side.

"I am now married," Jacob announced, his voice echoing off the glass buildings. "To the most beautiful girl I have ever met. Jhannara Mikaelson."

The crowd went completely silent for one agonizing second.

My brain stopped. My ears started ringing so loudly I couldn't hear the sudden explosion of shouting that followed his words. Married? The word felt like a heavy rock dropping into my stomach. I looked up at Jacob, my mouth open, my breath caught in my throat. He didn't look back at me. He kept his face turned toward the cameras, his expression perfectly calm, holding me tightly against him while the flashing lights painted my ivory dress in shades of blinding white.