THE ENEMY’S BRIDE

Chapter 7

Katherine’s POV

Today, I was going shopping—with the biker dude who also happened to be my husband now. I still couldn’t believe I’d agreed to this. Well, technically, it was either this or… death, so yeah, not much of a choice.

He was driving with laser focus, his eyes glued to the road. His messy hair fell slightly over his forehead, giving him that infuriatingly good-looking kind of rugged charm.

He glanced at me for a second. I quickly looked away.

“Am I that hot that you can’t stop staring?” he said, smirking.

“I—I wasn’t staring,” I lied, way too fast.

He laughed—a real one. And honestly, it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. Something about seeing him laugh felt… strange. Disarming.

Trying to compose myself, I asked politely, “Where are we even going?”

He rolled his eyes like I was bothering his royal biker highness. “A mall. We’re shopping for clothes—for you,” he said in the most dramatic, disinterested tone. “You can’t keep wearing mine. I don’t need the chest area slacking.”

I gasped and instantly crossed my arms over my chest. “Hey!”

He burst out laughing again, clearly proud of himself, while I tried not to let a flustered grin slip through.

His laughter… yeah, it was really nice to hear. I hated that I liked it.

Even though he was a maniac—blunt, unpredictable, and borderline insane—he had somehow given me a second chance at life. As strange as it was, he pulled me back from the edge… even though he was also the one who nearly pushed me off it.

I shook my head, trying to push away the heavy thoughts. I needed to stop thinking about how Nathan destroyed me. How he killed our child. Maybe it was for the best. There was no way I wanted to raise a baby with a man like him. I hoped he rotted in every possible way.

Turning my gaze to the biker dude I realized I didn’t even really know who he was. “You never told me your name,” I said, trying to sound casual.

Without even looking at me, he muttered, “Death… I mean, Andrew.”

I blinked. “Uhm, so which one is your real name? Andrew or… Death?” I asked, arching a brow, trying to hide the weird twist in my stomach.

Out of nowhere, he slammed on the brakes.

I gasped, my hand flying to the dash. “What the hell?!” I snapped, heart racing.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned over, grabbing me by the arm and forcing me back against the seat. The seat reclined with a jolt, and in a flash, he was on top of me.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled, struggling beneath him, pushing at his chest.

His face was close—too close—and his jaw clenched.

“My name is Andrew, okay?” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes twitching slightly. “Don’t ever call me Death again.”

His voice was low, firm, almost broken. And for a second, I didn’t see a wild man—I saw someone haunted by something.

I didn’t want to upset him—God knows what he’d do. Maybe throw me out of the car or worse. And besides, I was just his contract wife.

Wait. I didn’t even read the contract before signing it.

I must be the dumbest person alive.

I glanced up and found him still staring at me. “What are you thinking about?” he asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

Was this guy bipolar or something? His mood changes faster than the weather.

“Nothing. Can you get off me now?” I asked, trying to sound firm.

But he shook his head slowly. “No.”

My brows shot up. “What do you mean no?”

“You’re my wife,” he said bluntly. “I’m allowed to be this close to you.”

I swallowed hard. What the hell did I sign up for?

He started leaning in again, his face inches from mine. My body froze. This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not like this.

Suddenly—HOOONK!

A loud honking noise broke through the air, snapping the moment like a twig. Andrew groaned in frustration and finally pulled away.

“Move your car, man!” a voice yelled from behind us.

I shot up straight, cheeks burning as Andrew gripped the wheel and muttered curses under his breath, his entire mood now wrecked by traffic.

I turned back and gasped when I saw the traffic jam we had caused. “We need to go—before we get a ticket!” I said, a little panicked.

Without saying a word, Andrew slammed his foot on the gas and drove off, weaving through traffic like he owned the road.

After a few minutes, we finally pulled up to the mall. A bold sign greeted us: Welcome to monTell Empire Mall.

It had been so long since I’d been in a place like this. The glittering displays, endless racks of clothing, the bright lights—it almost felt surreal. For the first time in a while, I felt… alive.

I turned to glance at Andrew.

He looked completely unfazed, as usual—stone-faced and unreadable. But damn… he looked good. A plain black shirt stretched over his broad chest, tucked into black pants with combat boots to match. The only color on him was his messy blond hair that seemed to glow under the mall lights. Tattoos snaked up his arms and neck, black ink painting dangerous stories across his skin. And then there was the piercing on his bottom lip that only made him look more lethal.

Why was I just now noticing all of this?

If I had seen this earlier, maybe calling him Death wouldn’t have felt so far off. He looked like danger wrapped in calm—like he could destroy a world but whisper while doing it.

A sudden tap on my shoulder yanked me out of my head. I looked up and saw Andrew staring at me.

“Where’s your head at? I don’t have time to waste,” he snapped.

I quickly nodded, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

He sighed, already walking ahead. And just like that, I found myself trailing after my mysterious, inked-up, contract husband through a mall called MONTELL.

We were finally done shopping after what felt like hours. Andrew paid for everything without blinking and even insisted I get more than I needed. The bags were carried out to the car by the store workers.

No one had ever done something like this for me before.

I wasn’t used to kindness—or at least not the kind that came without strings. I was always the one working my ass off, day and night, just to scrape together enough for me and that shameless man. And how did he repay me? With betrayal. With pain.

We arrived home late. A cool breeze brushed over my skin as thunder rumbled in the distance. The sky was darkening fast—it was going to pour.

“Uhm… the weather’s pretty nice,” I muttered once I stepped into the living room and saw Andrew sprawled on the couch.

He turned to look at me, expression unreadable, then looked away.

Silence settled between us, heavy and strange. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know why he picked me to be his wife.

“Can I ask you something?” I said softly.

His eyes met mine, and he nodded once.

“Why did you ask me to marry you?”

I expected something sarcastic. Maybe something shallow. But instead, his words hit me like a slap.

“Well, that’s because I saw you and had the urge to tame you.”

My lips parted slightly in disbelief. “What?”

I instinctively took a step back.

He rose from the couch slowly, and for a moment, he didn’t say a word. Then he turned to me just as a flash of lightning lit up the room, casting eerie shadows across his face. At that moment, he looked like something out of a storm. Wild. Untouchable. Dangerous.

The rain started, hard and sudden, slapping against the windows like angry fingers.

“You heard me, my darling Katherine,” he said, voice low, and the way he said my name—my name—did something to me. Something I couldn’t explain.

I shouldn’t be worrying about the way he said my name or how his voice made my skin crawl and tingle all at once. What I should be worried about was the fact that I was now alone in a massive house… with a tattooed, unpredictable stranger I’d just agreed to marry—contractually.

I flinched when I realized he was suddenly standing in front of me, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.

“Why don’t we have some fun, darling wife?” he said, voice low and dangerous.

And then—he kissed me.

No warning. Just lips crashing into mine, hard and aggressive.

I gasped, trying to push him back, but he didn’t move. His lips were relentless, demanding. His hands gripped my waist and pulled me flush against him. I felt the pressure of his tongue trying to force its way in, and I clenched my mouth shut in panic.

“Stop,” I managed to say through the kiss.

But he didn’t—not at first.

Only after what felt like forever did he finally pull away, leaving my lips bruised and burning. The air hit my skin like ice, the silence between us suddenly deafening.

And without thinking.

My hand flew across his face, the slap echoing through the room. His head snapped to the side as he staggered half a step back, a hand instinctively going to his cheek.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, holding his face where I’d struck him.

Breathing hard, I stared at him, my chest rising and falling with fury and something else I couldn’t name.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“What do you think you’re doing, huh?” I yelled at him, my voice sharp and shaking.

He just chuckled, brushing his cheek with a smirk. “What? I’m just doing what a husband and wife would do. Did I do something wrong, darling?” he asked, his tone dripping with mockery.

Another slap landed across his face.

“Don’t you—”

“Enough!” he snapped, cutting me off, his voice suddenly booming with rage. “What do you think you’re doing? You think hitting me is going to make you feel better? Don’t forget I stopped you from ending your pathetic life. I gave you a place in my world when I usually let people die and applaud their style of dying!”

His words cut deep, confirming the awful truth I’d been trying to ignore—this man was a psychopath. And I’d walked right into the lion’s den.

“I should’ve just killed myself,” I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes before I turned and stormed out the door.

The rain hit me immediately, cold and unforgiving as it soaked through my clothes. I stood in the middle of the driveway, trembling from more than just the chill. My heart ached, my mind spinning with everything that had gone wrong.

“I have to leave,” I sobbed quietly, hugging myself. “But where would I even go…”

Then—without warning—I felt warmth.

An umbrella hovered above me.

I turned slowly, only to see Andrew standing there, holding it over my head. His eyes weren’t wild now—they were soft. Almost… regretful.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “Please… come inside.”

Before I could answer, he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around me, shielding me from the rain, and for a second, I felt like I could breathe.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to feel. But one thing was clear—I couldn’t leave. Not yet.

If I had to stay with this broken, dangerous man for two years—just to survive, to rebuild, to take down the monster who ruined my life—I would do it.

I was no longer the same broken woman.

I was Katherine. And I was going to rise.