Chapter 6: THE MARRIAGE WAS REAL
1060 Words
NATALIE POV.
I woke up to a quiet room,cold and intimidating.
My lashes flustered open. The ceiling above was no longer the hall with crystal chandeliers glowing overhead. The bed beneath me was soft–too soft. A thick, expensive black duvet brushed against my skin like they belonged to me.
I breathed in slowly,and that was when it hit me.
Leather. Clean spice.
A familiar scent.
I froze.
Then I observed the room,draped in charcoal grey and deep mahogany. An impenetrable curtain filtered the morning sunlight into thin silver slashes across the floor. Nothing about this room felt temporary. Nothing said guest.
Then I saw him.
He stood behind the curtain,half hidden,broad shoulders rigid. Looking at me like a puzzle, he needed to assemble.
My heart skipped a beat.
“You enjoy watching people sleep?” I asked.
He walked toward the bed slowly. His dark brown eyes met mine,sharp and assessing as if had been watching me the entire time,just waiting for me to wake up. There was no embarrassment on his face,nor apology.
Only interest.
“You fainted,”he said calmly. “I was making sure you woke up breathing.”
That should not have sounded soothing,but it somehow did.
I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Do you know who Luciano Deluca is?”
The air shifted.
The muscle in his jawline tightened as he ground his teeth.Something dangerous slid behind his eyes. Instead of answering,he sat at the edge of the bed so close that I could feel the force of power rolling off him like heat.
He took a strand of my hair and wrapped it around his fingers.
“How do you feel?” he asked quietly.
A chill rushed down my spine.
And that was my clue.
“I…thank you,”I said quietly,swallowing hard, “for your hospitality,but I should go home.”
I swung my legs off the bed and stood,ignoring the stiffness in my body, the aches,and the lightning in my head.
He tilted his head,his lips quivering–not a smile. Something worse.
“Home?” he echoed. “We are married.Married couples live together.”
I laughed sharply,humorlessly. “Don't be ridiculous. The game expired twenty-four hours ago.”
He didn't move.Neither did he blink.
He looked at me like I'd just told a funny joke,like he could not hear the desperation in my voice.
Anger crept beneath my skin.I feel helpless.
“This man is delusional,I thought.”
“I need water,” I said suddenly.
He nodded towards the door. “Help yourself.”
Big mistake.
Sneaking out of a mansion is harder than it sounded. Firstly,there were too many hallways, too much space. Secondly, the mansion was unbelievably beautiful,decorated with expensive ornaments.
I tiptoed barefoot like a cartoon burglar. I froze each time I heard a sound or footstep. Apparently, this house was noisy.
I slid behind a statue shaped like a naked Greek man.
“Don't look at me,” I whispered.
I made it to the stairs. Victory.
I lifted my foot,but I slipped and twisted my ankle. Sharp pain exploded through my foot. I bit my fist to stop myself from screaming,clutching my ankle, as I staggered forward.
I somehow limped out.
The moment I reached my apartment,panic became my fuel.
Without folding anything,I threw a few clothes into my leather bag. I grabbed my documents and charger. My dog whimpered as I scooped her up.
“I know, baby.I am sorry I dragged you into all this.”
I called maya with shaking fingers.
“Text me your address. Now. We need to talk. It's important.
Then I ran.
Or…limped.
The taxi pulled up. I climbed in,catching my breath.
“Take me to this address.”
Fifteen minutes later,something felt wrong.
The driveway looks familiar.
“Are we going in the right direction?” I asked.
The driver did not reply.
My stomach dropped when the iron gate came into view.
No.
No,no,no–
The car stopped.
There he was.
He stood majestically,leaning casually against the pillar,hands in his pocket,eyes on me. Patience carved into every line of his body.
“Going somewhere, wifey?”he asked calmly.
I stumbled out of the car,clutching my dog to my chest.
“Don't be delusional,” I snapped. “It was just a game.And it ended.”
He looked straight into my eyes,his gaze darkened,something possessively flickering there.
“Welcome home, wifey.”
Then he turned and walked straight inside.
Angrily, I stormed after him,frustration and fury burning through my veins.
“You need to understand that it was just a game,” I said in a high-pitched voice.
He stopped abruptly and turned, pulling a document from a drawer before holding it out to me.
My breath left me.
“This can't be real,you can't do this,” I said,choking on my words.
A marriage certificate.
Stamped.
Registered.
High Court seal glaring at me. My real name. My signature.
The room spun around me.
Something as to be wrong with my sight.
“This isn't real,” I whispered.
“Please don't do this to me” I pleaded.
He handed me a phone.
And for the first time in months,I heard my father's voice exploding through the speaker,furious,venomous. He shouted about disgrace,betrayal, and disobedience.
Then I heard my mother.
Crying softly in the background.
Something cracked inside me.
“It was just a game,I said helplessly,I didn't know–”
“You married the man called Death” my father said before hanging up.
I trembled.
“You sprained your ankle,”he said gently as he crouched in front of me,setting the phone aside. He opened a first-aid box with calm and precision.
“Take your hands off me” I snapped,shaking with rage.
He looked up at me with a piercing gaze.
“What would you rather have me do?” he asked quietly.
Gently,he applied an ointment to my ankle,his touch careful and controlled.
“You shouldn't run.”
The worst part was not the sudden turn of situation or the fear.
It was the traitorous part of me that noticed how steady his hands were.
“I never introduced myself properly,” he said, his voice low and steady.
“I am Sebastian Matteo,your husband.”
And then I knew.
I can't escape him.
- Writer
