Reigns family
1229 Words
"Marry you? What the actual f**k?"
Carmilla reeled backward, putting more distance between them. She couldn't think clearly when he stood so close.
"I don't even know your name or where you come from, and you're proposing marriage."
Was she actually speaking to a madman?
As if reading her thoughts, he chuckled softly.
"My name is George Reigns. I live in Hilibury at the moment. And the reason I'm proposing is quite simple." He glanced at his watch. "My family is pressuring me to produce an heir."
"Family? Wait…"
Her eyes narrowed. Reigns. Everyone knew that name. They were an ancient, mysterious aristocratic family of immense wealth and power.. rumored to rival even the king. Their dukedom was vast, and it was said the king himself feared them.
Fear sprouted in her chest.
"You mean the Reigns family?"
He didn't deny it. The old warning echoed in her mind: Woe to those who capture the attention of the Reigns. It would have been better for them never to have been born.
"Yes. And yes," he said calmly. "I want our child."
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a jade emblem bearing the insignia of a silver wolf beneath a crescent moon. The symbol of the Reigns family.
Carmilla froze. Motherhood? Marriage? The reality of what he was offering suddenly crashed over her.
Then she remembered her desperate situation.. her father's illness, her mother's danger, Bob Gates.
"Why me?" she asked, defenses rising. "Of all women, why choose a commoner from a struggling family?"
"The Reigns family does not discriminate," he replied, his golden gaze piercing. "When opportunity presents itself, the wise seize it."
She exhaled shakily.
"I accept… with conditions."
He nodded. "I'm listening."
"First, I need time to think about this."
He studied her for a moment, then pulled out a cigar and lit it with practiced ease.
"Done. But you have until dawn tomorrow. I'll send someone for your answer. If you agree, we'll draft the contract and you can add your conditions."
He turned to leave.
"Wait... my mother?"
"She's safe. No one will disturb your family today. I will take care of you, Carmilla."
The quiet promise made something warm and dangerous bloom in her chest. She watched his broad back as he walked away, equal parts terrified and relieved.
At least it was him… and not that overweighted pervert.
She shivered in disgust at the memory and suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to scrub her skin raw.
When Carmilla finally returned home, she was stunned to find that George had kept his word. She hadn't fully believed him at the time, but the evidence was undeniable.
Her mother looked slightly disheveled but otherwise unharmed. In the living room, Layla sat with a distant expression, gently stroking Sophia's hair as the little girl slept with her head resting on her mother's lap.
The moment Carmilla closed the door, both women looked up. Layla carefully moved Sophia's head onto the chair's armrest so as not to wake her, then stood and crossed the room.
Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Without a word, she pulled Carmilla into a tight hug.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry for what I said. I know I'm not always a good sister… but I love you. Even when I say cruel things in anger, I never truly mean them."
Carmilla knew that. When Layla was furious, her words were knives meant to cut. She had been on the receiving end many times. And she also knew that once the anger faded, her sister always returned to the loving person she truly was.
Still, the words had cut deep. Her heart bleed.
As if sensing her pain, Layla squeezed her tighter, the swell of her pregnant belly pressing between them.
Carmilla's thoughts drifted to the silver-haired man, George. He wanted an heir. She would have to become pregnant, just like Layla.
Her mother's gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her from her reverie.
"Mother…"
Without hesitation, her mother joined the embrace, wrapping both her daughters in her arms as quiet tears fell.
"I failed you both. I'm truly sorry."
Carmilla felt her knees weaken. "Are you really sorry? You almost ruined my life by trying to marry me off to Bob Gates!"
The words came out harsher than she intended, but she couldn't hold them back. Right now, she wasn't sure she was capable of forgiving either of them.
She understood it had been a matter of desperate circumstances… but understanding didn't mean forgiveness.
"I'm sorry," her mother repeated softly.
Carmilla looked away, then asked the question that had been burning in her mind since she walked through the door.
"What happened to Bob?"
Silence filled the room.
"Let's sit down," her mother said. "This may take a while."
Carmilla settled between her mother and Layla on their largest sofa.
"So… what happened?" she asked, reaching for an apple on the table and taking a large bite.
"He didn't die," her mother replied. "Layla told me you were terrified you might have killed him, so I'll start there." Her voice grew colder. "Though it would have been better if he had."
She looked directly at Carmilla.
"We found Bob with a badly bleeding hand. He claimed you stabbed him unprovoked. He accused me of plotting with you to destroy the Gates family out of jealousy. Miriam believed every word and ordered my arrest. I was detained while men were sent to find you. I was terrified for your safety… and I saw firsthand how unhinged that family truly is."
Her mother shuddered at the memory but didn't elaborate further. Still, the conviction in her voice eased something tight in Carmilla's chest. At least she wouldn't be forced into that marriage.
"Then a very tall man with a buzz cut arrived with several others. He looked dangerous ... covered in tattoos and scars. I didn't hear everything he said to Mr. Gates, but I saw the fear in the old man's eyes. Real fear. The kind that overpowered even his wife and son's demands."
The description of the buzz cut tugged at something in Carmilla's memory.
Layla let out a sharp gasp, her face lighting up with realization. "Buzz cut? I think I know who that was." She grabbed Carmilla's shoulders, shaking her excitedly. "That silver-haired man from the café... his companion had a buzz cut! Do you think the man who kept staring at you had something to do with this?!"
He really did it, Carmilla thought. And so quickly.
When George had promised to handle everything she wanted, he clearly hadn't been exaggerating. She swallowed hard as the full weight of her situation crashed over her once again.
"A man? A man interested in Carmilla?" her mother asked, suddenly alert and curious.
"Mother," Carmilla said, standing up.
She took a deep breath.
"I'm going to save Father."
Her mother closed her eyes and shook her head. "It's okay, sweetheart. You don't have to force yourself anymore. I... "
Carmilla took her mother's hands firmly.
She had made her decision. She would accept George's offer, the contract marriage, the whole thing. If her reality was going to be upended, she would do it on her own terms. She had been selfish long enough. It was time to make her sacrifice.
"Trust me."
- Writer
