Chapter 9: Run If You Can.
985 Words
“Every runaway bride forgets this: you don’t f*****g run on your wedding day and you sure as hell don’t marry into the freaking mafia.”
Zayen~•
I knew she’d attempt to run, but not this soon at least.
I would give it to her though. Her attempt was very clever. Zorah could learn a thing or two from her.
The moment she jumped off the fence, it would have been so easy to surround her. If she had gone through the bushes, that might have given her better luck. But out here, the whole north belonged to me.
There was nothing more fulfilling than giving her a sliver of hope, letting her believe she could escape me… and then crushing it right in front of her.
“I hope she wasn’t any trouble?”
The pureblood shook his head almost immediately.
“Not at all, sir. She said you tried to kill her.”
Her eyes widened in shock as she looked from me to the policeman, utterly stunned.
“You know women, always unsatisfied.”
He chuckled.
I chuckled too, slipping three hundred dollars into his palm. He was about to beg for another favor when I walked past him. I wasn’t about to entertain another greedy man.
My gaze locked back on hers. “Get in the car, Rivera.”
She was about to bolt when Axel blocked her.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going back with you, I’d rather die here—” she started, but at my signal, he threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her screams.
“Let go of me!” she cried again, but Axel had already shoved her into the car. The door clicked shut, locking behind her.
I gave the pureblood another farewell nod before sliding back into the car. She was quiet now, her expression a mix of stubbornness and defeat like she knew she’d lost, but couldn’t admit it.
“Was my warning not clear enough, or do I need to elaborate it even more?”
She didn’t speak, but the moment the car started, I heard her mutter something under her breath, followed by a hiss.
That was it. I turned to face her, eradicating all of her personal space until her eyes had nowhere else to look but mine.
“It seems Dominik did a terrible job teaching you manners. That makes it my job now and I am not gentle.”
She flinched, but I could still see some fight in her eyes. “Get out of my face. I don’t want to see you. Let me go.”
If it had been any other woman, she would’ve been a lying corpse by now. But somehow, it only amused me. This little princess needed to be taught when to open that pretty mouth and I knew a thing or two about putting it to good use.
“Perhaps I was too soft when I said it before. You belong to me now, Rivera. No fence. No policeman. No goddamn miracle. You cannot run from me.”
“Delusional of you, to think I wouldn’t try something just because you restrict it.”
There were a number of ways to treat her disrespect. It seemed she needed to be s*****d to learn some manners.
“Don’t you think it’s unwise to speak to me that way especially after what you just did, and all while still in your wedding dress?”
“Can you blame me? This wedding isn’t of my own free will. You scammed my family and forced this on me. I’d be insane not to try and escape.”
I should have been angry. I was angry, but instead, my eyes wandered elsewhere, trailing over her form until they stopped at the smear of fake blood across her cleavage, dripping down to where her t**s strained against the fabric of her dress.
I pulled back the moment the car came to a halt.
We had entered the compound. Axel stepped out, leaving just me and little Miss Runaway Bride.
She was fuming, glaring daggers at me, murder in her eyes, I could tell. But that was all they were. Thoughts.
“The sooner you accept your predicament, the better.”
She scoffed. “So what now? I’m supposed to play happy family just because you have everyone in this city doing your bidding?”
“As a matter of fact, all the Frostfangs and purebloods in this territory are loyal to me. Keep that in mind the next time you think of running away.”
“Well, I don’t want to be part of your horrible bloodline of mindless loyal cunts. And I don’t want to be yours either. You’re all insane, and I want nothing to do with you.”
She finished with a smug smile, a half-baked attempt to sound fierce and bitter.
I mirrored her smile. “Okay then. Go.”
“What?”
“Run away again, if you can. But let me warn you, you won’t go far.”
She looked like she was considering it for a second. Her jaw tightened, then slackened, and I saw the look of defeat wash over her face.
That’s what I thought.
Instead, she flew from the car, yanking the door open and storming out. I followed immediately.
She deserved a lesson for her stunt—it was the only way she’d learn.
“We aren’t done,” I called.
She stopped and turned back to me. “What?”
“I warned you, Rivera. Don’t think I won’t keep my word. Wedding night or not, you need to be punished for going against me.”
Her defiance faltered.
She went quiet, her mind racing, imagining what the “punishment” might entail. Even I hadn’t fully decided.
There were so many ways.
How exactly was I going to punish my little wife?
- Writer
