The Syndicate’s Bride

Chapter 9

Vanessa

My fingers moved on their own.

I quickly undid the remaining buttons and walked around him to peel the shirt off completely.

I gasped in horror as his back came into view. Numerous grotesque scars lined the skin of his back, all painful looking.

My eyes stung with unshed tears as I raised my hands to his back, only to find them trembling as I ran my finger over the scars. This was inhumane. No one in their right minds would bleed scars as grotesque as these on a human being. Whoever did this could only be a monster.

He tensed, and I jerked my hand back in fear that I had caused him pain.

“I’m sorry, does it hurt?” I asked softly.

At my question, he snapped his head to me, eyes brimming with confusion. “Is that really what you’re concerned about?”

His tone was one of pure curiosity, concern even, as he spoke. Unable to form words, I merely nodded as a tear slipped down my cheek.

Instinctively, with worried eyes, he reached out and held my face, gently wiping away the stray tear with his thumb.

Realisation hit us at the same time and he jumped back, slipping on his mask of indifference, while I stayed frozen in shock.

Did he just...?

He ran a hand through his hair, jaw ticking in annoyance. “I’m the one f*****g injured so why are you crying?” He scoffed when I gave no reply. “What? You feel sorry for me? I don’t want your f*****g pity, Vanessa. These scars made me who I am today,” his voice got progressively louder. “I wear them like a f*****g medal. These are my f*****g honours!”

“And you keep telling yourself that, Ryan,” I yelled back then continued softly. “You keep telling yourself that, but in truth, whoever did this to you is a f*****g monster. Believe it or not.”

I rushed to my drawer to retrieve my ointment. The clear coloured tube was the only source of relief whenever father punished me harshly. Father was often mocked by aristocratic families for being a nouveau riche and as a result force tKavand me into being a lady graceful enough to uphold the family’s public image. So whenever he deemed my behaviour to be inappropriate, he’d punish me terribly. But because I had to look clean and proper at all times, scars were not allowed on my body so he’d apply scar healing ointments after every punishment.

What a sicko if you asked me.

I returned to Ryan who observed the tube in my hand with curious eyes. “You saved me, and I didn’t get to thank you and somehow, I don’t think merely thanking you with words would be enough to express my gratitude.” I unscrewed the top of the tube. “But I can at least repay you by taking some of your pain. Let me apply it for you.”

Looking between me and the tube he remained silent. Finally, his shoulder visibly relaxed and slowly he turned his back to me.

It was the first attempt at trust I received from him.

I went straight to work squeezing a small amount on my finger and rubbing it against the scars. The previously tense atmosphere melted into a comfortable silence with only the sound of our breathing being heard.

After successfully applying the ointment on his back, I circled around, stopping in his front as we locked eyes.

I gave him a small smile of encouragement. “See? It wasn’t so bad, was it.” He just looked at me, an expression on his features that I couldn’t explain, and no longer able to withstand the piercing gaze after a few seconds, I looked away.

Applying the ointment to the scar on his chest, he tensed and I jerked back, scared of hurting him again. But he held onto my hand mid air and carefully placed it back on his chest and sighed.

“Sorry if I scared you.” He said softly.

My heart pounded against my ribcage, bashful at the sudden intimate atmosphere, as I nodded. “It’s okay.”

I peeled my eyes from his and continued with my work, softly caressing his chest with my finger and muttering apologies anytime he flinched in pain. I could tell the particular scar was still fresh.

“I’m sorry for yelling earlier,” he suddenly said, making me halt my movements. Surprised at his apology, I let out an awkward chuckle. “I didn’t take you to be the apologetic type.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not, but I know when to acknowledge my faults. That’s good enough for me.”

I stared at him, once again shocked by this new side of him I was beginning to understand. How did I ever mistake him to be a brute?

Just when I was about to apologise for yelling back, a knock on the door distracted us. Ryan’s relaxed form immediately became tense again and my guard went up.

We looked at each other and he nodded at me in silent reassurance before walking to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

A maid stood by the open door, eyes widening at Ryan who stood at the entrance, blocking me from view. She quickly dropped her head as she spoke. “There’s a man here to see you sir. He’s claiming to be your assistant.”

Ryan nodded. “You can go, I’ll be there.”

With a final nod of her head, she exited.

“It's Owen.” he clarified as he walked to the bed and slipped on his previously discarded shirt. “He has some information about the racetrack situation I told him to look into.” He looked at me, eyes dancing between mine. “Thank you. I’ll be back.” I nodded wordlessly in reply and he left.

With a sigh, I plopped on the bed, closing my eyes to relive the event of the day. Unconsciously, Ryan stroking my face with his thumb as he wiped away my tears was the first thing that came to mind and my cheeks immediately flushed.

I groaned. Why am I even thinking about that? To distract myself, I immediately grabbed my phone and began scrolling through social media, ignoring unanswered messages from as far back as a year ago.

I only ever come online once in a while. It was my way of checking in on friends that I usually didn’t have the time to check in on through calls.

I stumbled on a friend’s birthday post, smiling fondly at her favourite shirt which she wore and a gummy smile. Naturally my eyes looked for today’s date on my phone screen and almost immediately, I gasped.

3rd November? That was the date on Ryan’s birth files Alice handed me the other day.

“It’s his birthday?” I said, shocked.

I looked at the time. 11:07 pm. Ryan was still down stairs with Owen and seeing as the day was almost over and he hadn’t mentioned it once, he must have forgotten.

Quickly, I send a message to Alice requesting a cake within the next thirty five minutes. No questions asked, the cake was delivered in thirty.

It was moments like this I was grateful for her baking hobby.

I watched the time closely, wondering when Ryan would be back to the room. My eyes drooped lower by the second and the coolness of the room wasn’t helping matters.

Thankfully, just before my eyes could give out, the door opened and I immediately reached for the cake.

Ryan

It was a few minutes to midnight when I finally returned to the room. Slowly, I pushed the room door open, careful to not wake Vanessa from sleep.

But to my surprise, the lights were still on, and Vanessa, wide awake, sat on the bed with a small smile and a cake in her hand. I tilted my head a little in confusion.

“Happy birthday.”

I blinked at her. “What?”

She chuckled nervously. “Today is the third of November. It’s your birthday, right?” then she whispered uncertainly, “or am I wrong?”

And that was when it dawned on me. Previously too preoccupied, I had forgotten that little piece of information.

“No, you’re right.” It was a day I hadn’t celebrated in a very long time mainly because with it came too many memories of my mother.

She was always up before anyone else on that day, baking me a cake by herself while ordering the servants to make my favourite meals. She never once missed a celebration.

But after she passed away some time after my eighth birthday, I just couldn’t bring myself to a celebration mood on my subsequent birthdays. Instead, I laid coiled up in my room, secretly crying for a good chuck of the day, making sure father never noticed if not he was sure to discipline me.

But soon enough, the tears stopped, and in its place was a rage that didn’t fade no matter how much I released it.

So, I couldn’t understand the warmth that spread in my chest as I looked at Vanessa with the cake. How did she even know? It was a bizarre feeling, an emotion I hadn’t felt in so long on my birthday.

But I knew better than to act on it. I belonged in the dark under world and soft and kind emotions like this had no place there. It was bound to be terminated and destroyed.

I knew that.

Yet, as I walked to Vanessa, kneeling upright opposite her, that reasoning vanished momentarily. A smile threatened to break free at her awkward attempt to avoid eye contact with me but I quickly masked it, keeping my face expressionless.

“This is silly.” I said.

Her smile shifted a little and she pulled the cake towards her. “Did I do too much?”

I stopped her movements and took the cake from her and stood from the bed. “I didn’t say that.” I walked to the coffee table and placed the cake on it gently before turning and walking out the door, returning with some cutlery, two plates, wine glasses and bottles of wine.

She exhaled. “God, you scared me. I thought I did something wrong when you walked out without saying anything.” Then, taking the plates and cutlery, she smiled. “Let me cut the cake, you pour the wine.”

Not used to being told what to do, I grunted out a reply but ended up doing as told. Shortly after, she came to the bed, handed me a piece of cake, and sat beside me.

I handed her a glass of wine and she tipped it in the air. “Happy birthday, Ryan.” With that, she tipped the contents of the wine into her mouth in one big gulp and sighed satisfactorily.

I watched her closely, my eyes skimming over her face as it always seemed to out of curiosity. What was it about you that made me want to lower my guard? I just couldn’t put my finger on it and it was driving me crazy.

I kept people at arms length for the right reasons, eliminated threats when the action called for it and had no intimate relationships whatsoever, but with Vanessa, it was like she defiled everything I stood for.

That was dangerous.

I threw the contents of my glass into my mouth in one swift motion to let the alcohol consume my thoughts. Beside me, Vanessa reached for the bottle, pouring more wine in her cup, and at noticing my empty glass, did the same with mine.

We kept drinking until the cake finished and I started feeling tipsy on my sixth glass.

“Thank you for today.” I suddenly said, grabbing her attention.

She looked at me, eyes drooping a bit after her third glass. “For what?”

“For the ointment and the cake.”

Almost as if to get a read of my face, she scooted in closer, stopping only when her face was a few inches from mine, and rested her hand gently on my chest. My breath hitched.

Her eyes roamed over my face, lingering on my eyes and staying on my lips. “Does it still hurt?”

I could feel myself burning up. “No.”

“Good.” Her eyes remained on my lips “Were you happy today, Ryan?”

I exhaled in satisfaction at the sound of my name on her lips. Her eyes flickered to mine for a brief second before returning to my lips. Instinctively, I licked them and heard her swift intake of breath.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.” I pointed out, taking her glass from her hand. She stopped me, pulling the glass back to her and emptying the contents in her mouth. She ran her tongue across her lips to clean the small amount that wet her lips and my eyes instinctively followed the movement.

It was getting harder to breathe by the second.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes,” I answered. “I was happy.”

She ran the hand on my chest down my stomach and I froze. But all hell broke loose when her lips spread into a full blown smile.

I didn’t think, I just acted.

Closing the gap between us, I pressed my lips to hers.