Queen Pawn

Smoke & Mirrors

“You know what to do,” my husband’s husky voice brought me out of my thoughts.

“Yes, be the perfect wife, laugh at your jokes and compliment you when necessary and never talk when not asked to,” I said.

“Good,” he said, fixing his cufflinks as he pressed a kiss on my lips. His lips were so soft and warm, I didn't want him to stop as I bit my lower lip.

“You're a good wife.”

“You're my perfect husband,” I muttered; the words were already cliché to me.

He pulled me in and kissed me, tracing my neck down as soft moans escaped my lips. f**k, I was wet already. He bit my already hard n****e through my cloth. A flush of pain and pleasure ran through me.

He slid his hand under my dress to my panties, feeling how soaked I was.

“You filthy thing,” he whispered in my ear as I ground my hips on his hand.

Just f**k me already, asshole. Then my worst nightmare happened: he tossed me back to my seat. He always does that—making me all wet and starving till whenever he's in need. I fixed my dress, showing my dissatisfaction.

“We’re here,” the driver signaled from his seat.

“Behave, baby,” he said, kissing me and pinching my n****e.

The valet opened the limo and I slowly got down, accompanied by my husband who walked to my side and brought out his hand to put mine in. Yh, not so cute.

Flashes were everywhere as we got down.

“Mr. Romano here!”

“Mr & Mrs Romano, over here!”

“Allie, over here, you're breathtaking!”

I just stood smiling and posing like every other event. I got used to it.

The compliments went on, till we walked over to the event, his grip still firm on me. The scenery was quiet, peaceful, and slow jazz music could be heard amidst the chittering of people. Not just any kind of people—elite ones. We walked in and turned some heads and whispers among some guests.

Yes, I'm putting on Alexander McQueen’s latest collection. Give it a break. I rolled my eyes. Of course I wear designer—you weren't expecting anything less from a millionaire's wife, or his “trophy” wife, because that’s exactly what I am. That's what I look like, that’s what I feel like.

“Romano…” a voice called out, approaching us. A man in his late 50’s approached. My husband shook his hand.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn't come,” he said.

“I would never stand you up, Mr. Ramsey,” he replied.

“Yes, yes, I know… Allie,” he called out.

Suddenly I remembered I exist.

“Nice to meet you. Looking stunning as always,” he said, smiling.

“Thank you, Mr. Ramsey,” I replied, faking a sweet smile.

They shook hands and he walked away.

We saw a hand beckoning to us. We walked over.

“Ooh, Romano, you've done great. Your father would be so proud of you,” he said, patting his shoulder. “And Allie, looking radiant as ever,” he said as he kissed my cheek.

“Thank you, Mr. Noah. You're looking good yourself,” I said with a smile.

“Ooh dear, don't,” he said. “Thank you for taking care of our Romano. He can be a handful but you sure are handling it well.”

You have no idea. Trust me, I'm handling it sooo well.

“You two make the perfect couple, you wouldn't want to know how many women die to have your relationship,” his wife chipped in.

“Ooh Mrs. Noah… it isn't much of a big deal.”

Fuckkkk… it is much of a big deal. Those women are definitely asking for a never-ending nightmare.

I excused myself as I was getting tired of the ranting on and on about how perfect we are.

“Honey, you need anything? I’d like to get a drink,” I said to my husband.

“Yh sure… a whiskey would be great,” he replied.

I stood up and Mrs. Noah followed me.

“You know you should loosen up, you don't have to be tense,” Mrs. Noah said as she followed me.

“Loosen up!! I'm not tense,” I replied, trying to hide it.

“Honey, trust me… you don't have to hide it. I can feel it and so can others.”

Yes, maybe I'm a bit tense and self-conscious, but why shouldn't I be? I had to be perfect—no flaws, nothing. The perfect wife, perfect partner. And him grabbing onto me like he owned me. I hated that. It's fine in private, but in public? Hell nah.

“Allie…” Mrs. Noah’s words tapped me out of my thoughts.

“Ehmm… excuse me, I have to use the ladies,” I said as I made my way to the restroom.

I got there, stared at the mirror a few times, taking deep slow breaths. Maybe I was acting a little bit irrational. I should ease myself a little and enjoy this night. I mean, there does seem to be a slight difference. He's been giving me less restraint during s*x, and we did have some pretty hell of a s*x the night before. I smiled as I bit my lower lip, my folds tingling at the thought of it. Until he turned me on in the limo leaving me stranded for his really thick bulge. I chuckled at the thought of that.

Stop, Allie. Focus. f**k, this man has messed me up. Maybe it was something good. I can feel it. I try to loosen up a little and just enjoy the party.

I went back out and saw my husband waiting for me. f**k, s**t, my heart started beating a little too fast.

I tried to compose myself as I went to him.

“What took you so long?” he asked.

“Ehm… I was just in the ladies.”

He arched his brows.

“Seriously! You wanna check?” I questioned, 'cause I know that face.

“I'm sorry.”

“Time to meet some of my new investors. They were asking of you and you took your time. I thought I had to go on another rampage looking for you again,” he said, his husky tone making me moan softly. Hopefully, he didn't hear it.

Fuck, I remember my sole aim here—meet his investors and make him look good as his perfect partner. I just wish people could see behind this façade.

He held my hand and we walked to his investors.

“Allie…” one of the men called out, pulling me in for a hug. I knew for sure who could do that without my husband having to kill someone.

“Hi, Mr. Macaron, so nice to meet you. How's your wife?” I asked as I broke the hug.

“She's fine, she has some business to attend to in Italy, she sends her regards,” he replied.

“Thank you, sure to relay mine back,” I said.

Mr. Macaron has been my husband’s investor from time memorial; his wife once told me they started the company with Romano's father who owned the business but went ahead to start up their own with his help, and they've been of great help to each other ever since, before my RIP father-in-law willed the company to my husband. Tho I never met him, but I'm sure he's not an asshole like his tyrant son here. So yh, the Macarons are kinda like family, tho I heard Romano has a brother but I dare not ask him about it. The Macarons are the only family I know with him.

“Mrs. Blackwood, I must say you look more ravishing than your husband praises you,” a voice said.

What!? He! Me! Ravishing! From him!? Well, that's new.

“Thank you,” I smiled, hoping to make this awkwardness pass super fast.

Romano made the formal introduction.

“I must say you really have him tied down to you well,” a female among the investors said, winking as they all smiled.

Tied! You have no idea who and what's being tied every day. I gritted my teeth.

“Uhm uhm yes… he's just the perfect husband, isn’t he,” I said.

I could swear I saw a smirk on my husband’s face but couldn't wait to confirm as he let me go to talk business with his new partners.

“So how's the contract with the Danovers,” I heard as I walked away to get a little bit of freedom, but not too much 'cause hubby already gave a side eye.

Ughhhh doesn’t he ever take a break.

I walked a little to where the drinks were being served and ordered a drink.

“You must be Allie? Mr. Romano's wife,” someone said.

I turned my head and a dark blonde was beside me with a smile on her face.

“I'm with Allie Blackwood, the one who tamed the mighty Romano Blackwood of The Romano Group.” she said trying to contain her excitement

I almost choked on my drink.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” I asked, still trying to adjust myself after my near-death experience.

“I'm sorry, my name is Isha and I must say you look really beautiful. Mr. Romano really has eyes for the best alone. I'm not surprised you have him wrapped around your fingers so fast.”

Yh, tell me about it. I don't know where all these people are getting the wrong impression or information, but I can say for a fact that it’s BLATANT LIESSSSS!!! But who am I to complain?

“Thank you, Is…” I said, looking at her, trying to remember her name.

“Isha,” she said, smiling.

“I have to go now, if you don't mind. Nice meeting you.”

I had to leave or imma start saying things I shouldn't.

I stood near a table as I watched my husband talk to his partners. Oh God, he looks so good—his muscular body, his large hands that seem to fit my body perfectly. His husky sexy voice. Yes, he’s an asshole. Yes, I should run. But f**k, how can someone be so perfectly imperfect? One word and I’m wet, and I hate myself for it. Controlling and possessive—yh.I never imagined my marriage like this, but here I am, imperfectly perfect.

One second he's all around me like I'm the only thing that matters in the whole world. The next? I'm just a wife. An object. Something to show off.

I wanna be seen too—more than this. I wanna feel, not like an object to be fantasized about but as a real woman. Me! But damn, he's hot as hell. How he manages to handle everything, holding commands both in and out. I…

I was still lost in thoughts when the gasps and wonder in the room brought me back. What did I do? All eyes were on me.

What did I do? I didn't say those thoughts out loud, did I? I'm sure I didn't. Then why the f*****g stare? I noticed they were mainly females and they were checking their phones and looking up and whispering. I grabbed my phone, annoyed at this point. Tons of notifications on my feeds.

Then came the most embarrassing shock of my f*****g existence.

A lady in a dark room, she could pass for a brunette and my husband.

My imperfectly perfect husband.

Holding her the same way he holds me. Hands on her throat, whispering God knows what! The same look, my look—everything! I felt the room tilt.

My head spun, the gasps turned to knives cutting deep. I didn't know when tears rolled down my cheeks or why my heart broke again.

We had s*x last night. A f*****g great s*x and I was thinking we had something good starting. I thought maybe, maybe he saw me.

Stupid, stupid Allie.

His smile burned through the crowd as he came closer, partners by his side. Closer.

I felt the room suffocating and I couldn't breathe.

Run!

My heels echoed on the floor as I fled away from him. Away from this. This humiliation. From everything.

I've heard the rumors. I just never believed them to be true, given his cold demeanor and the wife I'm supposed to be. I just couldn't.

Now my whole world is crumbling for the 113th time—who knows. f**k, who’s counting.