married for a year

chapter t

JONES' POV

Two years have already gone by.

Two years went through the agony. My kid was taken by her two years ago.

There are instances when I become concerned with our conversations and the circumstances leading up to the dispute we had right before she departed.

Pure sadness and loathing for who I am and what I stand for were the only sentiments I experienced.

Even today, I regret leaving.

If I had just listened to her and given up on the dangerous family business, as she used to call it, we may still be married and have our baby.

I didn't, however. I didn't want to renounce the way of life I had been used to since I was a young child.

My father was the Mafia's boss. Grace made it more tough, but I was growing excellent at creating barriers for myself.

She is passionately opposed to what we do. By any means required, she pressured me into breaking relationships and forced me to do so. It was tough for me. I'm happy with the work we completed. Incredible power rushed through me. I appreciate making the guilty feel horrible.

Grace loathed it until the day she left.

I stopped performing things that reminded me of her, and I quit conversing with my active father.

He knows how I work, despite the fact that we haven't talked in over a year.

But my mother has been pressuring me to wed and have a family.

I worried whether I would ever be able to love another person with the same passion as I loved Grace, even though Grace and I never got to the point of marriage.

After she died, I stopped using the term "love" because it wounded me.

Sincere admission: I'm not even sure what commitment entails.

The statement offends me, in my view.

My mother regularly presses me to get married and have a family, so I want to show her that I'm not ready for either. They will be the principal topic of my opponents' and critics' criticism. I'm hoping it won't be as tough the next time a loved one goes away.

I'll still get married to her to calm her, and a year later, we'll divorce.

I didn't receive this after our nightly video conversation with her. Finding someone to educate, connect with, and accept as the bride was tough.

Hoffer was informed that I would be taking him out tonight to a club. Hoffer wants me to put the past in the past and follow in his footsteps even though he is already married.

But how easy is it really?

Indeed, it is.

Even if I've let go totally, I'll never decide to have a family or get married by myself.

Anita's lovely blue eyes and long, straight black hair rapidly made me want to take advantage of her difficulties.

I have to assist both myself and her. I'm hoping she will understand. I'm thrilled that I can affect her.

I'm delighted I won't have to spend time attempting to locate a stranger.

Anita is a stunning and clever young girl. I believe we can make the union I'm providing her look genuine before we split up in a year. She bothers me because of her carelessness, which I find disconcerting.

My mother ultimately quits bothering me after a year. It's enough to persuade her of anything.

I don't need a girl. The way I am fine.

But she doesn't seem to comprehend. She feels I'm still mourning the losses of Grace and our kid. I'm not, however. My injury has totally recovered.

In more than two years, you should have recovered from your scars. Isn't it sufficient to conceal the scar and make it look as if nothing happened?

Eventually, every wound will heal. This may have finally benefited me, in my view.

"What?!" She begins weeping again, this time more loudly.

She strives to fathom why I am saying this and what I am thinking as she looks at me with deep blue eyes that seem to read my thoughts.

"Yes. Commune, community Say, "Sit down!" I supply incredibly excellent guidance.

She quickly blinks before running over to a chair. She is so scared that her eyes are twitching and turning scarlet.

I observe it from afar and think whether it will still be beneficial after a year. Given that Anita tends to be a fairly calm person, we can get through this.

Do you feel more comfortable now? I beg, and she firmly nods in accord.

I squat and murmur "Good." She is drinking her drink while keeping her hands on her lap. This marriage will have legal ramifications.

I want you to be my wife for a year.

After a year, I will pay you further money, and after that, you are free to depart.

In total, I'll pay you $500,000, of which the first $250,000 will be paid at the conclusion of the contract and the second $250,000 at the end of the union, I tell her.

She would undoubtedly yell in excitement if I delivered her a big lot of money and told her she would be free in a year.

But she's not doing that. She looked terrified. There was plainly a tear in her eye. She doesn't appear delighted at the possibility of earning cash to discreetly wed to me for a purpose that only I am aware of.

I sigh.

Do you comprehend?

She shakes her head while crying. My brows crease.

What on earth is this?

You may be questioning why she's sobbing.

She stares at me, and considering how dissatisfied I am, I think about turning away from her.

"Marriage? Why? Why me?" She wipes her years with the tip of her fingers.

"Are you driven to make it happen? Please quit asking me questions. I react back aggressively.

As I've previously indicated, our relationship is controlled by a contract, hence a unique arrangement will be developed.

She has the opportunity to examine the contract's terms and conditions, ask me any questions she may have, or refuse to sign it.

What is the big deal exactly?

She must be thankful for the wonderful items I am currently offering her. Why does she constantly critique me so harshly?

I quiver in awe as she shakes her head.

She just adds, "I'm sorry, sir," before giving up. Sorry, sir, but I'm unable to stop it.

"Why?" With a grin on my face, I enquire.

Why in the world would she reject such an unbelievable offer?

Does she realize the importance of earning this much in her first year of work?

She cries out, "I just can't."

I won't agree to getting married if a contract is necessary.

As soon as I begin to chuckle, she stops.

Because of a contract, she can't wed me, right? Why does she still want to wed me?

She rises up and I forcefully smash my palm down on the desk once again.

As I watch, I clench my hand and give her a critical expression.

I wish I hadn't told her that. When I stated it to her, I lied. I should have asked his wife for guidance on how to convince one of her friends to become my wife for a year rather than giving up my initial plan to meet Hoffer at a pub later tonight.

I'll say, "You know what?" I'll have a word. Let me discuss. I ask a simple yet crucial question. My hands are trembling with wrath.

She sways while gazing away from me.

She stated to me, "Forget I said all that," which I overheard. "Go away now!"

She lifts her head in reverence while skating her face.

"Go away now!" When I shout, she flees for the door. She sat there for a moment, looking to be debating what to do with my offer.

Before I can call at her to leave again, she sprints off.