A One Night Mistake Now He Wants Revenge

My Dream Man

Then he and Dad went into the study to discuss business.

That was it. That was all I knew about the man I was marrying.

Now I stood at the altar beside him.

Peter smiled at me. He looked handsome in his tailored suit.

His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his teeth were white and straight.

He looked like every woman's dream.

The priest started speaking, but I barely heard the words.

"Do you, Karina Shephard, take Peter to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

My mouth moved. "I do."

"Do you, Peter King, take Karina to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." Peter's smile widened.

"You may kiss the bride."

Peter stepped closer, and my body went rigid. I had forgotten that we were supposed to kiss in public so I never prepared myself mentally for it.,

I stood frozen, and Peter's smile flickered. Something dark passed over his face.

He grabbed my waist and pulled me against him.

His lips pressed against mine hard.

To others, it might seem like a display of strong desire but I saw the flash of something twisted in his eyes when he kissed me.

But then he pulled away and was smiling again, waving to the guests as they applauded.

The switch was too fast, and I wondered if I had imagined it.

The reception was a blur of events, I could barely keep up.

People came to congratulate us, even giving gifts and warm speeches.

We cut the cake together, and posed for photos.

There were a lot of journalists present, but it made sense. We were both equally important people in society.

I smiled until my face ached, then came the first dance.

Peter took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

The guests formed a circle around them as music filled the room.

He pulled me close, I could smell his cologne and I tried not to look into his eyes.

But his gaze was fixed firmly on me.

We swayed together, while his hand pressed into my lower back.

I was just counting down to when this torture would end.

Suddenly, he leaned down and spoke quietly near my ear. "Your family certainly knows how to sell their daughter to the highest bidder."

My breath caught. What did he mean by that?

"But I can't complain." His voice was casual, almost pleasant. "At least you're beautiful. That's something."

The words hit me like a slap. I pulled back slightly to look at his face. He was smiling.

That same perfect, charming smile he had worn all day.

The song abruptly ended, and the guests applauded again.

Peter released me immediately. He kissed my cheek for the cameras, still smiling, then walked away to greet some business associates.

I stood alone on the dance floor, still trying to make sense of what he had just said.

People moved around me, they talked and danced to the music. Everything continued like normal.

But I felt terror spreading through my chest.

What exactly have I gotten myself into?

I sat on the edge of the bed, my skin was slick with expensive oils.

The perfume they had rubbed into my wrists and neck was too strong. It made my head hurt.

The maids had spent hours on me.

They had scrubbed my skin, brushed her hair and dressed me in a white silk nightgown that was too revealing.

I knew what to expect from tonight, but I still felt scared.

I looked at the door, any moment from now, Peter would walk through it soon.

It still felt strange to think of him as my husband. And now, I had a new fear unlocked after what he had said earlier at the dance floor.

I was still trying to decipher, but the more I thought about it, the more I was scared.

Mom’s voice echoed in my head.

"Do whatever he wants. Don't complain or murmur. This marriage will save us."

My hands twisted in my lap. My heart was beating too fast.

The room was beautifully decorated in a Victorian style setting, the four poster bed added to the allure. But even in all it’s beauty, I still felt hollow,

I pulled my knees up to my chest, as the minutes dragged by. It was already close to midnight but I kept watching the door.

I wanted to be awake when he came. But as I waited with nothing to keep me occupied, my mind began to wander.

I thought of Richard, I couldn't help it.

His face appeared in my mind so clearly. His warm brown eyes. His easy laugh. The way he used to hold my hand when they walked together.

My heart squeezed in pain as I remembered the earnest look in his eyes as he proposed.

I shook my head hard. I couldn't think about Richard anymore. That part of my life was over. I had made my choice, so I had to live with it.

My eyes felt heavy with each passing second, I tried to stay awake but before I could help it, I fell sideways on the bed and dozed off.

I woke up the next morning with the realization that Peter didn’t come home last night.

I sat on the bed, as confusion and questions filled my mind.

Where was he? It was our wedding night. Wasn't he supposed to be here?

Someone knocked on the door. Before I could answer, it opened. A tall man in a gray suit stepped inside. His face was stern and he eyed me warily.

"Mrs. King," His voice was clipped and formal. "I'm Mr. Fernsby. I'm your husband's secretary. Mr. King had to leave last night for business. He asked me to take you to your home."

I stared at him. "He left?"

"Yes. He had an important meeting in Shanghai."

“When will he return?”

Fernsby c****d his head to the side like he didn’t expect me to ask that question. “I don’t know,” his response was monotonous.

I

didn’t know how to react. Peter had left me alone on our wedding night.

I didn't know if I should feel relieved or insulted. Part of me was glad I didn't have to face him.

But another part felt small and unwanted.

"Get dressed," Mr. Fernsby said. "We need to leave in twenty minutes."

He turned to go but stopped at the door. "Mrs. King, I should tell you something about your husband.

Mr. King is a very particular man. He values punctuality above all else. He doesn't tolerate lateness.

He expects things to be done exactly as he asks. Do you understand?"

I nodded slowly even as fear crept into my chest.

"Good," Mr. Fernsby said. Then he left.

We arrived at Peter’s mansion and it was enormous.

I stood in the driveway and stared up at it. It was three times the size of my family's home. Maybe bigger.

The white walls seemed to glow in the morning sun. There were tall windows everywhere. Gardens stretched out on both sides with perfect flowers and trimmed hedges.

Servants lined up at the entrance.

They all bowed as I walked past. It stunned me how many they were but judging from the size of the house, it was needed.

Mr. Fernsby led me through room after room.

Everything was expensive. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Marble covered the floors. Paintings in gold frames decorated the walls. But nothing felt warm.

The house was beautiful and empty.

"This is your room," Mr. Fernsby said. He opened a door on the second floor.

The bedroom was huge. A large bed sat in the center with silk sheets.

There was a sitting area with a velvet couch. French doors opened onto a balcony.

Everything was decorated in soft pinks and creams.

"My room?" I asked. "Where is Peter's room?"

Mr. Fernsby gave me a strange look."Mr. King’s room is on the other side of the house.

You have separate quarters."

"But we're married."

"Yes." Mr. Fernsby’s face showed nothing. "This is how Mr. King prefers it."

My throat felt tight. I still didn't know what to say.

"One more thing," Mr. Fernsby said.

"Mr. King prefers that you wear blue. It's his favorite color. Make sure you always look presentable. He likes his wife to be well-dressed."

Then Mr. Fernsby left. The door closed behind him.

I stood alone in the middle of the beautiful room. I walked to the wardrobe and opened it.

Rows and rows of clothes hung inside. Dresses. Skirts. Blouses. Most of them were blue and they were all designer outfits, picked out in my size.

It was just the way my parents had chosen everything for me. What to study. Who to marry. How to act.

Was I going to be a doll here too? A pretty thing to display?

My phone buzzed in my purse, and I pulled it out. The screen was full of messages, from friends and colleagues congratulating me.

Everyone was so happy for me, but they didn't know the truth.

I turned off my phone, and walked to the center of the room. My legs gave out halfway, and I sank to the floor.

The pent up emotion I felt since last night hit me suddenly, and I let it all out, crying into my palms.