The Devil’s Bride

Chapter 8: A Lesson in Etiquette

Megan's POV

I steadied my breathing as the chair scraped on the floor, his words hanging heavy in the air, his feet slowly padding on the floor as he retreated to his room. My blood boiled, my jaw clenching too hard.

The look on Alexander's face said it all; we were going to the company together. Which meant that I'd have to postpone the day of my escape.

Without another word I stood on my feet, a sigh escaping my lips as I walked towards the room. I had to prepare.

My steps were mechanical as I got into the bathroom, turning on the shower. The cold water cascaded down my spine giving me temporary relief. Of Course I was mad at myself for getting involved in all these, but I didn't show it. I bottled up my emotion, the cold water numbing the ache in my chest.

After I was done, I slipped out of the bathroom door with the tower wrapper around my chest, hot steam rushing out from my body as I stepped into the spacious room.

I paused right on my tracks the moment my gaze fell on his stupid face.

Alexander

He stood tall, his hand casually resting in his pant’s pocket, eyes scanning me with an unreadable coldness.

He stared at me for a while and i felt like I was going to vanish if he kept on staring at me that way.

What the hell does he want again?

“You aren't wearing those rags you came in with,” he said flatly, voice devoid of every warmth. “I ordered clothes,wait for them.”

Then he turned. Just before he walked out, he shook his head like I disgusted him. The door slammed on the wall with enough force.

“Typical,” I said with a scoff.

I sat on the king sized bed, my hands clasped on my laps as I waited patiently. I didn't want to move around because I was afraid to break anything.

A few minutes later, the hinges creaked loudly, the door opening slowly. My gaze snapped up, falling on the maid who stood on the threshold. She had a black box cradled in her arms and she slowly walked into the room, her eyes fixated on the floor as if it held her interest.

She walked in carefully, setting it on the night stand slowly as if it'd break if she hurried up.

“Thank you,” I murmured, but she didn't reply. She bowed down slightly and walked out of the room, closing the door.

I exhaled sharply before unboxing the package. I was eager to see what he had ordered for me. I couldn't wait to find out.

My mouth was agape the moment I lifted up the lid, my eyes widening as I beheld the beauty inside. It was a black dress,bit shimmered faintly beneath the light. I rubbed it in between my fingers, and I felt its smoothness. It felt like silk.

Without a second thought, I decided to try it on me and it fit perfectly, the material hugged me like a second skin. The neckline was off shoulder, delicate lace tracing along the collarbone. It felt…perfect.

I stood before the silver coated mirror and the reflection on the mirror looked nothing like me. I felt like a goddess. I spun around for a while, beaming with smile. I'd already forgotten who gifted me this and the relationship we shared, but I loved it.

Ofcourse, it was only for a fleeting moment.

The door flung open and he stepped in, his eyes scanning me. He stared at me for while, his eyes running down my frame before he spoke coldly,

“Hurry up, I don't want to regret wasting my money.”

Perfect compliment.

His lips curled into his usual cold smirk,

“Funny how poor people clean up so well with designers. I guess wealth can really make nobodies somebody.”

That struck a nerve. I wasn't going to let him get away that easily.

“I never asked for this,” I said, my voice low but firm, my eyes fixed on the mirror. “I didn't beg to be in your pathetic game. I never begged to be in your life, why the f**k are you feeling like you are doing my a favour?” I asked, whirling around to meet his stunned expression.

I couldn't tell where I got the bravery and confidence to face his sorry ass, but I loved it.

“Do I need to remind you that you kidnapped me, forced the pathetic role of a wife down my throat and now you insult me?” I asked, my eyes staring right into his.

I paused for a while, letting the words sink in before I continued,

“I don't want to be part of your life, Alexander. I rather starve in the streets than to live in this mansion with you. I rather raise this child alone than stay in the same room with an arrogant ass hole like you.”

The silence that followed after those words left my lips was deafening and it stretched for minutes, the words sinking into his skull.

His eyes darkened slowly, his face straightening, devoid of every emotion.

What have I done?

The confident which once wrapped around me like a cloak vanished, fear gnawing in my chest. I felt terrified and instantly regretted speaking back to him.

I should have kept my lips sealed.

He took a step forward. Then another.

I stumbled backwards, my back hitting the cold wall. I felt my body tremble slightly, my heart skipping a beat. My breath hitched as he closed the distance between us, his presence suffocating.

He leaned so close to me and I shut my eyes, his gaze burning me from the inside.

“You speak too much,” he whispered coldly, his breath brushing against my skin.

“That child you are carrying is Zeus',” he reminded me with a hiss. “It’ll never taste poverty. It won't taste the filth you came from. That child is a Zeus, not a street rat.”

His words struck deep into my heart.

“Got it?” he asked, hint of seriousness in his voice.

I nodded, breath coming in short haggard gasps.

“Now, get into the car.” he ordered, walking out.

Immediately he was out of sight, I breathed out, unsure of how long I'd held my breath. I steadied my breath, anger simmering to the surface.

I felt stupid for letting an asshole like him intimidate me. Each time he stepped closer to me,I lose all the confidence I'd gathered. I always found myself trembling and I hated it.

When would I have the courage to face him? When would I have the strength to look him into his damn eyes and tell him that I wasn't his slave?

Never?

I shook my head, furious at myself before walking out of the room. I walked to the sleek black car, and sat close to him my eyes fixed ahead. I didn't want to look at him.

The engine roared to life, the car speeding out of the garage and into the streets.

I told myself I wouldn’t let it happen again.

The car drove through the streets for a while before slowing down close and my eyes widened as I saw the huge iron gate with a name embedded on it.

Zeus incorporation.

Even the name made my stomach twist.

We drove past manicured lawns, fountains that sprayed in rhythmic arcs, and guards stationed at every few meters like this was some kind of royal fortress. My eyes widened as we rolled up to a towering glass structure that seemed to stretch to the crowd.

The car pulled to a smooth halt in front of the entrance.

I stepped out, instantly greeted by a gust of cold, conditioned air that seeped out from the wide glass doors as they opened. I folded my arms across my chest, hugging myself as I took a shaky step inside.

The floors gleamed so brightly I could see my reflection in them. Above, chandeliers hung like stars, light dancing across the pristine surfaces.

I suddenly felt very small.

“Don’t just stand there gawking,” Alexander muttered beside me, already striding ahead.

I trailed after him reluctantly, my heels clicking against the polished floor. Every step echoed, like the building itself was mocking me.

We reached a set of large double doors made of ebony wood with gold handles. He didn’t bother knocking. He pushed them open and strode in like he owned the world. Of course he did.

Inside, a woman stood waiting—tall, sharp-featured, and immaculately dressed in a navy suit that screamed money. Her brown hair was tied into a bun so tight it looked painful, and her lips were painted in red colour.

Alexander turned to me,

“Megan, this is Hannah. She’ll teach you how to act like a Zeus,” he said arrogantly. “So you don’t embarrass yourself—or me.”

Then he turned on his heel and walked out, the door thudding shut behind him.

Just like that.

I blinked. My chest tightened.

Hannah didn’t offer a smile or even a greeting. She turned, her heels clicking in perfect rhythm as she walked ahead. “Follow me,” she ordered.

I followed her down a hallway lined with portraits—photos of serious men and women in suits, all with the same cold arrogance.

We stopped in front of a wide door. She opened it, revealing a room that looked like a set from some etiquette training academy. Mirrors lined one wall. A long rack of designer clothes stood to the side. On the far end was a dressing table stocked with enough makeup to paint a house.

She shut the door behind us and turned to me, arms crossed.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Why?” I asked quietly, but my voice trembled. “Why must I be forced to fit in? Why am I being shaped into someone I don’t want to be?”

Her brows lifted, l

“You think you have a choice?” she asked.

“You’re going to be married to Alexander Zeus. The family demands perfection, and perfection is what they'll get. Now, quit asking questions!”