“You heard him. If we don’t consummate this marriage with his men as witnesses, he’ll kill her.”
I expect her to shout in outrage. To scream at me. To flee as fast as she can in the opposite direction. Knowing it as sure as I do my name, I brace myself for her shouted recriminations.
“Does he want us to do it here or somewhere else?”
My head snaps up. “What?”
“Here?” she repeats slowly, but not unkindly. “Or somewhere else.”
Brows pinching together, I clear my throat. “H-here, probably. Now.”
“Fine,” she says, and I jerk back like I just received a blow.
“Fine?”
“That,” she says, pointing at the box on the table, “is a warning, right?”
“Yes,” I punch out.
She draws in a long breath. “Then fine. I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER 22
CATRIONA
Cian’s lackeys guide us to a room he had fitted with cameras linked to screens in the office. I’m surviving on nothing but fear and adrenaline. I feel numb, disconnected from my body. They shove us inside, then lock the door. Releasing a breath, I’m grateful they aren’t in the room with us.
“You want to watch, fine,” Aiden had said once he told them of my decision. “But the only way I can make this happen is if you watch over the cameras. Is that acceptable to you?”
Niall—no wonder Mara hates him—started to object, but Cian cut him off.
“I wouldn’t be able to perform in front of an audience like this either. We can watch from the security feed in your office. But Aiden, don’t try anything stupid. You’ll show me you can both behave, or I’ll make you pay. Starting with her. Do you understand?”
He’d agreed.
Of course he had.
I’d told him to.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not shaking like I’m in the middle of an off-the-charts earthquake.
“You’ll do it?” he repeats incredulously, once we’re alone. “Are you fucking insane?”
“Don’t ask questions, or I’ll change my mind. Now get undressed. They’re already watching.” His phone buzzes, but he puts it on the side table, ignoring it. Something inescapable pulses in my chest and electrifies my blood.
“I don’t want them to see?—”
“We don’t have a choice,” I say in a low voice. I can’t see the cameras, but I know they’re there. My skin prickles with the awareness that we’re being watched. I want to press a hand to my roiling stomach, but I don’t want to show them an ounce of fear.
“W-what should I—” I’m shaking with nerves despite the fact that this isn’t our first time together. That night with him seems so far away now. Like a fever dream. Is he really going to go through with this? Does it even matter to him? He’s kept bodyguards on me, given me money, but none of that means he gives a damn about me aside from protecting his investment. There was that moment in the shower when he’d held me, but does he only do those things out of obligation? For his commitment to his mother? Would he have forced me to do this if I hadn’t offered?
I have to push away all thoughts, or I won’t be able to go through with this. I’m probably stupid for even considering it. But I can’t walk away, knowing his mother would be punished. Neither can he. But it’s there, linking us as surely as the rings on our fingers.
Without a word, Aiden undoes the cuff links at his wrists, pocketing them as soon as they’re unclasped. His silver eyes, devoid of emotion, snare mine as he tugs the tail of his blackshirt from his waistband, and there’s something vulnerable about seeing a man like this with wrinkles in his shirt—a crack in his well-manicured facade. I wish I wasn’t sharing him like this. I don’t want anyone else to see him half-dressed and mussed, but I don’t have a choice, so I focus on undressing as well.
All too soon, the zipper on my dress is undone. Before I can doubt myself, I draw it away, stepping out of the cloud of fabric, trying not to think of the hidden cameras and the disgusting man observing them. Looking at the dress as it falls to the floor now, I try to scrub them from my thoughts.
By the time my attention returns to Aiden, he’s divested himself of his Armani button-down shirt and is working on removing his pants. The sound of his buckle clinking echoes in my ears, and I feel the tips of them ignite with the flame of embarrassment. All I can do is keep going, stepping out of my shoes. Finally, I’m left in nothing but lace and my wedding rings.
