Married to Kill You

Chapter 3

"Oh, who are you?" said one of the thugs in a dismissive tone. "Do you want to be a hero in the morning?"

"Herry? How could you..." Vely was no less surprised when she saw Herry's arrival.

Herry immediately helped her stand up. He then looked at the thugs one by one.

"You brats... Why are you guys silent? Quickly hit—"

Jeff's words were stopped when Herry suddenly threw an envelope at his face. Jeff's face turned red with extreme anger.

"You! Damn it!"

"That's a check for two million dollars. I hope you guys can leave soon because this matter is over."

Jeff's eyes widened in disbelief, then quickly opened them. He showed a satisfied smile when he saw the paper in the envelope. "Sure, we'll leave soon. Money can always solve everything."

"Let's go!" Jeff gave orders, causing the other thugs to immediately follow him out of the house.

"Herry, thank you..." Vely exclaimed.

Harry smiled. "I only did what master ordered."

"Your master?"

"If you want to say thank you, say it to him when you meet him later. Get ready, you have to move into his house starting today."

"Um, I'll get ready first."

"No need, all the necessities have been prepared there. Let's go, he's waiting for you."

Hearing that, Vely turned to Mia. Before he opened his mouth to speak, Mia hugged him first. "Go, I'll be fine," Mia whispered.

Vely smiled faintly. "Mia, I'll call you later."

---

The winding and narrow road took the sleek black BMW deeper into The Hamptons, an exclusive upscale residential area popular with celebrities and wealthy figures. Located on the eastern tip of Long Island, New York, this luxury residential area offers a unique blend of rolling hills and beautiful ocean views.

When Vely looked out of the car, her eyes widened in amazement at the sight of a luxurious European-style house towering on a hill, resembling a castle from the movies she often watched. Though she had seen her fair share of grand houses—especially those owned by old Victorian families—nothing compared to the grandeur before her now.

Following Herry, she walked up the white marble stairs to the main door. When the massive door opened, Vely stood in awe at the beauty of the house.

A magnificent chandelier full of shimmering crystals hung from the soaring ceiling, casting delicate lights across the polished marble floor. Vely stepped in, quietly captivated by the tall, arched windows draped in regal curtains. Through one, she caught a glimpse of the stunning coastline beyond.

Her curiosity grew with every step. Why was the house so quiet? No staff, no footsteps—nothing but silence. It was in stark contrast to the bustling homes she had known.

“We’ve arrived. Please go in. Mr. Gabriel is waiting in his study,” Herry said, breaking her thoughts.

Vely reached for the doorknob, hesitant. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

Herry shook his head once. “No, I have other matters to attend to.” He looked down briefly, then turned away, leaving her alone.

Summoning her courage, Vely opened the door and stepped inside.

The office was minimalistic, yet still grand—three times the size of her apartment. At the far end, a tall man stood with his back to her, facing the large window.

She froze.

When he turned, her breath caught in her throat. It was the same man from the previous night. The one who left her dazed and breathless. She stared, momentarily forgetting to blink.

Gabriel raised a brow, the corners of his lips tugging into a sardonic smile. "Surprised?"

Vely gathered herself quickly. “I didn’t expect our second meeting to be like this,” she said softly.

Gabriel didn’t respond right away. Instead, he walked past her and took a seat on the leather sofa with a cold, indifferent grace.

Vely followed his cue and sat across from him. “About last night, I apologize again for the accident. It wasn’t intentional.”

Gabriel crossed his legs, folding his arms. His gaze was razor-sharp. “If you truly feel sorry, take responsibility. Wash the shirt yourself.”

Vely blinked, confused. “Pardon?”

“I don’t let just anyone touch my clothes,” he added flatly. “Only Aunt Emma. And now, you.”

Vely forced a polite smile. “Alright. I’ll take care of it.”

He didn’t acknowledge her answer.

“I’d like to talk business,” she said. “As your contract wife, I need to know what you expect from this arrangement.”

Gabriel’s expression was unreadable. “And why should I explain myself to you?”

“Because I don’t work with vague agreements,” she replied.

A beat passed before Gabriel spoke again. “My grandmother is dying. Brain cancer. Three months left, at best.”

He leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Her last wish is to see me married. I find it troublesome, but necessary.”

Vely nodded, legs crossed elegantly. “Understood.”

Gabriel’s tone shifted subtly—colder, sharper. “My family is... intricate. You’ll be watched the moment you step in. One misstep, and you’ll be eaten alive.”

Vely’s brow furrowed. “Watched?”

“You’ll be staying here,” he continued, dismissive. “If you leave, you report to me.”

Her lips parted. “That’s not in the contract. We agreed on separate personal lives.”

“I don’t care what the contract says,” Gabriel cut in, voice low but firm. “If this marriage is exposed, it’s my name that burns. And I won’t let that happen.”

He stood, walked over to the desk, picked up his suit jacket, and slid it on without looking at her.

Vely opened her mouth to speak, but he was already walking back to her.

Gabriel stopped just inches from her and, with deliberate calm, placed a hand on her shoulder.

Vely tensed.

With no warning, he turned her body so she faced him. His gaze swept over her from head to toe—cool, calculating.

"Change. Now," he ordered flatly.

Vely blinked. "What?"

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “You look like a street girl trying too hard. Fix yourself. I won’t parade my ‘wife’ around looking like that.”

Vely’s jaw tightened. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t repeat myself,” he snapped, voice cold enough to freeze the air. “You have fifteen minutes. Make yourself presentable.”

He turned to leave, then paused.

“When I’m here, everything follows my rules. Obedience is not optional.”

His eyes bore into hers with dark amusement. “And one more thing—be quiet. And be pretty.”

***

Acting like the perfect partner for her clients had always been Vely’s specialty—yet that skill crumbled in front of Gabriel. No matter how many exquisite outfits she put on, he rejected every look, forcing her to adjust again and again.

Exhausted from tailoring herself to his whims, she finally complied, all for a trip to a seemingly abandoned old building. From the outside, it looked wasted and forlorn, but the line of luxury cars with special plates—and the sharply dressed men stepping out with their bodyguards—told a different story.

Vely stayed silent, trailing Gabriel as they left the un‑plated Rolls‑Royce. Narrowing her eyes, she wondered who this man really was.

The rust‑covered iron doors creaked open. The decayed exterior dissolved the moment they crossed the threshold: a soaring Baroque ceiling, a colossal crystal chandelier, marble floors gleaming under dozens of golden candles. A grand spiral staircase edged in gold led them upward to an expansive hall, where Vely froze on the threshold.

Her head spun at the sight. Men in bespoke suits and women in lavish gowns surrounded tables piled with cash, gold bars, rare watches, and half‑open black cases revealing rows of weapons. A stack of brittle documents lay beside them.

They gambled gleefully, greedy eyes fixed on the dealer shuffling cards bearing a crowned dagger emblem. Some men wagered women; any who resisted were struck across the back, treated like mere chattel, while stacks of gold coins slid across the table like toys.

What kind of place is this? The disbelieving whisper slipped from Vely’s lips. A chill of restrained outrage flickered in her eyes—never had she imagined such a den existed in her own city.

Gabriel turned, his dark gaze skewering her.

“You wonder why you’re here?” His voice was ice as he closed the space between them. A possessive hand pressed to the small of her back—more threat than comfort. “I’m testing you, Vely.”

He leaned closer, voice low and lethal. “I need to know whether you’re worthy of being called my wife… or just a puppet I can burn at will.”

A cold rush swept through her chest. Panic threatened, yet she masked it with calm professionalism, sensing danger in every corner of this room.

“So you brought a pretty girl only to show her off?” a man mocked, striding toward the center of the hall.

Then Gabriel smiled faintly and began walking slowly toward her, drawing every pair of eyes in the room.

“You want to know if she’s just for show?” he asked casually, his head turning briefly toward Vely.

Vely felt sweat gather in her palms as the weight of attention fell heavily upon her. Her posture stiffened the moment Gabriel pulled out a chair for her at the round gambling table.

“Play the next round,” he said, locking eyes with her, his gaze sharpening.

She froze. What did he mean?

“Sit,” came his voice, cold and commanding.

Vely instinctively took a step back. Every instinct told her not to be part of whatever was unfolding around her—none of this felt right. But before she could move away, she felt a firm tug on her arm.

Gabriel smiled again, satisfied as he pulled her down into the seat in one swift motion.

“You don’t leave without my permission. Sit, and obey.”

Her heartbeat thundered like war drums. She felt suffocated—regret slowly eating through her spine. She had chosen the wrong client. This was not what she signed up for.

"Gabriel... you can't force me—"

“You agreed to a high price to follow my orders, didn’t you?” Gabriel cut in, his tone sharp. “So now, play the game for me. You're nothing more than a service I paid for.”

Vely said nothing. He wasn’t wrong. She had agreed to be obedient—for a price.

But how foolish of her to believe her only role was to play the wife.

Her hands curled into fists when something was placed in front of her.

Two pills—one dark, one bone-white—rested on a tray. She had never seen either before.

A man at the table chuckled.

“Play our game, miss. Choose one. If you're bold enough to sit beside Gabriel, surely you're brave enough to take one little pill. Don’t worry. Just mid-tier narcotics. You won’t die... probably.”

Vely nearly choked. Narcotics?

She would rather die than ever touch such filth. This wasn't right. None of this was right. She turned to Gabriel, silently pleading.

But he only leaned back in his chair—and smiled.

That smile sent a shiver down her spine. In that moment, Vely realized one thing:

Gabriel was dangerous.

“Gabriel…” she whispered, voice trembling. Her hands shook beneath the table. “You’re not serious…”

The men at the table burst into laughter.

“Gabriel…” she said louder now, fear creeping into her tone.

But Gabriel only raised one finger to his lips, signaling her to be silent.

His cold gaze locked onto hers as he picked up one of the pills and rolled it slowly between his fingers.

“Don’t embarrass me tonight, Vely,” he said flatly. “Prove you're worth the price I paid.”

“This isn’t right!” her voice cracked. She started to rise—but Gabriel’s next words froze her mid-motion.

“If you run… your fate will be the same as those women in the corner.”

He nodded in their direction.

Vely turned, eyes wide, heart lurching at the sight of women lined up—wagered like objects, stripped of dignity.

Gabriel’s fingers closed around her wrist, pulling her gently but firmly back down. He smiled again, satisfied at her submission.

Vely’s mind screamed. This was madness. This wasn't a party. This place destroyed people.

“Eat, miss. You’ll look prettier afterward,” someone said with a sneer.

“If you refuse,” another laughed, “we’ll just consider you the next bet.”

Applause erupted when Gabriel placed the pill into her hand.

“Where did Gabriel pick her up?” one man scoffed.

“She looks better suited for the betting pool than his side.”

“That woman’s unlucky. If she doesn’t swallow it, I doubt she’ll walk out of here alive.”

The room roared with ridicule. Vely’s nails dug into the edge of the table, her knuckles white. Cold sweat ran down her temples. Her hands trembled beneath the table.

How dangerous were these people?

Her eyes flicked to Gabriel, desperate for mercy.

But all she received was that same heartless smile.

“Gabriel… please…” she breathed.

He merely crossed one leg over the other and pressed a finger to his lips again.

“Don’t make me ashamed of you, Vely,” he said quietly. “Show them I paid for someone with guts.”

Vely’s world shook. This wasn’t work. This was cruelty. This was exploitation.

She wanted to scream, to escape—but the way everyone stared her down made her lips freeze shut. In her head, she screamed for help. These people weren’t human.

“Play with us, sweetheart,” said one man with a wolfish grin.

“One bite of bravery. That’s all.”

The pill trembled in her hand.

“Come on, beautiful. Swallow it. Pretend it’s courage in capsule form!”

“I won’t do it.”

Her voice cut through the air, low but firm.

Only to be met by more laughter.

“What a shame, pretty girl… We’ll make you the prize for the next round. Would you rather wager your body than swallow this pill? Hahaha.”

Several men pounded the table with glee.

One of them placed a heavy hand on Vely’s shoulder, shoving her forward.

She froze. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

Every gaze that fell on her felt like a noose tightening around her throat.

This wasn’t part of the contract.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

She wanted to vanish. To disappear.

“Gabriel…”

The whisper barely left her lips. Are you a demon like them? Who are you, really? Why did you drag me into this abyss?

Rage and despair twisted inside her. Had Gabriel been toying with her from the very beginning? Had she been nothing but a pawn to be sacrificed in this twisted game?

Then the man behind her, growing impatient, seized the pill and shoved it into her mouth.

Vely struggled, but his brute strength overwhelmed her.

“Akh—!”

Her scream was swallowed by the roar of laughter around her.

Tears spilled freely as she sobbed—her dignity crushed in mere seconds.

Then… Gabriel stood.

The sharp screech of his chair scraping the floor silenced the room.

He walked toward her—slow, deliberate, predatory.

His gaze was that of a wolf circling its prey.

He crouched before her, towering even as he leaned down.

One hand rose to her chin, lifting her face gently…

And before she could react, he closed the distance—

His lips claimed hers.

Slow. Deep. Unrelenting.

The kiss seared through her, locking her in place.

Vely’s entire body froze.

She felt trapped, violated by shock and fire.

Gabriel’s tongue slid past her lips—

And took the pill from her mouth.

One motion.

One electric moment that left her breathless and stunned.

The room went dead silent.

The air itself seemed to freeze.

Gabriel pulled back with a slow smirk curling at his mouth.

His eyes held no shame—only dark satisfaction.

He turned to the man who had mocked her earlier.

And with precise contempt, spat the pill into the man’s face.

“You thought I brought a doll?”

“This woman is mine. Not your toy.”

His voice was low, cold, lethal.

“If you ever think of touching what I’ve bought again, be sure you’re ready to die by morning.”

Gasps echoed across the room.

No one dared move.

Gabriel’s eyes briefly flicked back to Vely.

Their gazes collided—but there was no warmth in his.

Only ice.

And from her? Hatred. Quiet and burning.

“You’re mine,” he said without a smile.

“And you’ve just passed your first test.”