Bride Of The Bullet

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

“You should’ve just celebrated your wedding night there, Mr. Salvatore. If a kiss didn’t hurt, I am pretty sure a sexy night with that bombshell won’t hurt your reputation.”

I shot Carlo 9 times in his chest when the words left his mouth. The room left a vile scent of rot and blood. His body parts were mercilessly paraded around the whole room as blood was scattered to every inch of the office.

I have known Carlo since we were schoolboys. One thing I knew about him was that he had a vile mouth, and the one thing he knew about me was that I didn’t stand for anyone talking s**t about something that belonged to me. Something that was so clearly mine.

His body was dragged away by my guards quickly, but I left the blood around to be soaked by furniture so I could smell every bit of the revenge I took on him.

I left both of my arms carelessly swinging around the chair as I puffed on the cigarettes. The blood spatter on my face dripped down on my coat. The floor-to-ceiling window of my office was showered with red as the sunlight reflected a bright orange color.

With that view in front, all I could taste was Elara on my lips.

The woman was trouble disguised in diamonds of beauty. Every inch of her awakened the need of something dark and malicious.

She was the daughter of Adrian, the man I had on my murder list for quite some time. Then, my grandfather sounded the announcement of my engagement to his daughter, and all I wished to do was burn his company to the ground.

Our companies were clashing for years without end. He could never top our profits, and I didn’t even consider him as an opponent. The whole nation ran on my money.

My grandfather was adamant, and f**k my fate, he left me no choice.

I took the cigarette in one hand and rubbed my lips. “Good lord,” She tasted like honey. Pure honey.

I was anything but an impatient man. Every one of my actions reflected every moral, every brutal teaching of my grandfather. Every moment, I maintained my willpower. Years of relentless executive grooming under his tutelage have made me his carbon copy.

Every moment of that strategic mentorship crumbled when my eyes fell on her. Her body is precision. A cinched waist, curved just right, and honey brown skin where the sunlight fell and reflected just the right amount of shine.

Her lips had frozen me in place and stopped every movement around me. Carlo had insisted hard on making me see my future bride as a means to make me look forward to the day but God. Right after that moment, I stopped functioning like myself.

I shifted in my chair as I felt croch needed fixing. A groan left my mouth as I rubbed my forehead. “Why the f**k did I kiss her?”

She was looking so f*****g angelic, I lost every inch of my self-control when I saw her sitting inside that marble gazebo. All I wanted to do was imprint my claim on her body, but Lord knows how I stopped myself from doing so.

“It is 5 in the morning. You’re about to get married in a few hours later and you’re here sitting in a pool of blood without giving me the god-damned measurements of your waist for the suit.” Kelsey huffed as she signaled the cleaners to start working on the red canvas of my room.

I smiled and sat up straight. “The woman is not leaving my mind.”

She parked her glasses on the tip of her nose. “She’s about to be your in a few hours.”

That word made my chest swell with an unknown feeling. Every emotion that raked my heart right now made me want to rip the organ out of me.

“She’s trouble. The daughter of the enemy, and she will mess everything up.”

“Daughter of the enemy,” She mocked. “You make it sound like a royal setting.”

I stood up. “I don’t have any interest in f*****g up my perfectly organised life.”

She lifted her finger. “Ah-ah, perfectly controlled life by your grandpapa who made you become the monster you are today.” She pointed around the blood being cleaned.

I smiled at her while fixing my suit. “Let’s get my wedding suit made.”

———

The suit was tight enough to make me miss breathing normally. I rarely cared about anything I wore because my stylists were always assigned by my grandfather, and as he always cared to say, “A Salvatore isn’t dressed, he is armored in a suit.”

I do believe that my wedding had nothing to do with that sentence, but I wished anything but spending hours in this suit.

“Would you like it to be tighter, sir?” The stylist popped a button.

I sighed. “Get off.” And he did.

“Look who would be breaking the media’s today.” Kelsey walked in and handed me a purple shawl. “Your grandfather is awaiting your arrival.”

I turned and took the shawl. She felt my muscles tense after hearing that and patted my back. “He is very happy about everything.”

I look to my side, and one glare from me ushered the staff to leave the room. As the last person left the room and the door clicked, I said, “I don’t care about his interests anymore. I hope you know that.”

She smiled. “Yes, of course. The tables seem to turn and after 10 years of relentless torture, he seems to have turned you into someone he fears.”

———

My boot clicked on the corridor as I made my way towards the hall. The Salvatores had a ritual of the groom greeting every guest and shaking everyone’s hands before the wedding took place.

The only one of the traditions I couldn’t cut the roots of. I’d rather blow their brains out just to make my time worth it, but Kelsey wouldn’t approve of that.

A certain lush of whites scratched the corner of my eyes. White lilies. White gowns.

Every white thing that ever existed crossed my mind. God, I wonder what she was wearing right now. Did every bit of the white cloth cover her curves nicely? Did she leave some cleavage out for the hungry bastards to ravage their eyes upon?

Do the violent whites of her extravagant hair reach her waist or did she commit a crime by turning them into a bun? Was she wearing something scandalous to assert her father’s name or was she fearful of the Salvatore’s?

Did I cross her mind?

I shook my head violently. What am I thinking?

“You’re ruining your hair!” Kelsey stopped me.

I closed my eyes tightly. “What the f**k is wrong with me?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Nothing is wrong. Would you please keep moving? The guests are already scared out of their wits waiting for you, don’t make them piss their pants!”

I pushed her and signaled to continue without me. She left, annoyedly.

The corner of my eyes caught whites again. I sighed. Am I hallucinating?

Because when I turned my eyes to a gigantic wooden door that creaked open an inch, I saw her lips move frantically. Time froze again, and my legs automatically gravitated towards the door.

God, her red lips moved like strawberries–

“We will expose his crimes to the world and make sure he can never get back up again.”