She swallows.
LAIKYN
He grabsmy hand and helps me off the altar, and immediately pulls me down the aisle covered in the white carpet. Everyone stands on either side to watch us go. My parents don’t even try to catch up and speak to me. But what is there to say?
It’s too late. I’m now married in the eyes of the Lords. The pastor didn’t even ask those who opposed to speak now or forever hold their peace. Because he knew it wouldn’t have mattered. Once a Lord chooses his Lady, there is no going back.
We make our way outside and rain instantly drenches me. I squeal, throwing my free arm over my head. He’s already got a black limo parked right in front of the Cathedral, and he holds the back door open for me to jump in.
That’s probably the most gentlemanly thing he’ll ever do for me.
I get as far away from him as I can, which is hard, considering my dress is in the way. Finding a seat, I yank on my train just as he shoves it into the car and gets in. Placing my hands on the now ruined silk, I don’t even bother looking out the window to see if my family came out to see us off.
It doesn’t matter.
There was a big and elaborate wedding reception planned that was also supposed to take place at the Cathedral but I’m guessing that’s no longer needed. He proved his point and made me his wife.
We sit in silence as the driver takes the curvy two-lane road while the rain comes pouring down. He takes us downtown and my heart races when he pulls under the awning of the hotel, knowing why we’re here. I was hoping that he’d skip this part. The valet opens the back door for us, and Tyson exits. It takes me a moment to get back by the door, and I mumble a thank you as a man at valet helps me out.
“Congratulations.” The guy smiles when his eyes land on my wedding dress, and I feel my shoulders slump, unable to thank him this time. No matter how rude of me that is.
Tyson takes my hand and drags me up the black velvet stairs and through the glass door. I feel eyes on us, so I keep mine on the white marble floor with the black diamond inlay design.
My heels get caught in the dress, and I almost trip, but he yanks on my hand, keeping me up.
We make our way through the elaborate lobby of the luxury hotel and to the elevators. We have to wait for ours, and I try to calm my breathing. I’ve spent a lot of my childhood here at the Minson. My father owns it. He has over five hundred locations in the United States alone. People check in having no clue what kind of illegal activity goes down here. The Lords place their members throughout the world to benefit their society. They will take the worst kind of evil, dress it up in a ten-thousand-dollar suit and give them an expensive bottle of scotch and the ability to suck your soul out of your body without you knowing. I’ve seen my dad do it too many times. Poor bastards never see it coming.
Our elevator opens up, and we step into it. Tyson pulls out a card before scanning it. This is the only one that has access to the floor. H for honeymoon suite lights up and takes us over twenty-five floors up in silence.
I run my wet hands down my dress when the door slides open, and we step into the suite. On any other day, it would be gorgeous. Red and white rose petals litter the white and gray marble floor. A black circular table sits in the middle of the foyer. A glass vase sits on top with the most beautiful red roses I’ve ever seen, and a bottle of champagne along with two flutes sits on either side.
He walks past them, stepping down into the open living room. I slowly follow.
“Gavin will be here shortly.” He finally speaks to me, making my pulse race.
I’ve heard that name before. I’ve seen him a couple of times when he came to visit my father. I’m pretty sure he’s a doctor. That has to be wrong. “Who … who is he?” That’s my biggest fear. That he’ll whore me out. Let others use me because I’m no use to him. Sell my body to make him some extra cash. This isn’t a marriage out of love. So why would he treat me with respect?
“A doctor,” he clips, removing his black tuxedo jacket from his broad shoulders while walking farther into the room. I take a look around, seeing more flowers all over. The overwhelming smell almost makes me gag.
I swallow nervously. Afraid I was right. “Why … why do we need a doctor?”
He comes to a stop and turns to face me, his baby-blue eyes scrutinizing my smeared makeup from the downpour. I hate that I care what I look like right now. “Are you on birth control?”
My cheeks flush. Luke didn’t want me on birth control. He wanted a baby straight away. An heir. A Lord is nothing if he doesn’t have someone to carry on his name. I hadn’t quite figured out how I was going to keep that from happening, but I wasn’t going to have Luke’s child. I answer Tyson. “No.”
“Exactly.” Turning his back to me, he goes over to the baby grand piano. A silver tray sits on top with a tinted decanter with an M in the middle. He removes the glass diamond top and pours the whiskey into one of the glasses that sits next to it. “The last thing I want to do is knock you up,” he adds.
I want to be happy that he doesn’t want to get me pregnant because I don’t want kids either. But instead, it pisses me off because it’s just one more way he’ll control me. Why wouldn’t he take away my ability to reproduce?
Taking in a deep breath, I remind myself it’s something we agree on. But that thought also makes the hair stand on the back of my neck.He’s going to fuck me.I knew this day would come. That it would be my wedding day. That a man would take my virginity. I just never thought it’d be my sister’s ex.
A part of the agreement of me being handed over to Luke was that I was a virgin. I know the Lords have to abstain from sex their first three years at Barrington. He wanted me to remain one until our wedding night. If I didn’t bleed for him, then I would be considered a whore. My parents promised him my innocence, and I had to deliver. I know for a fact that Luke had been fucking women the past few years. I didn’t care. I actually prayed to God, hoping that Luke would fall in love with one of them and forget about his arrangement with me. They were not answered. Instead, God laughed at me and sent me someone far worse than Luke.
“Here.” Tyson offers me the second glass of whiskey, and I look from it to him, making no attempt to take the drink from his hand. “I didn’t drug it,” he growls.
“I don’t believe you.” I lift my chin. He could have very easily slipped something into it since we entered the room. It only takes a second to spike a drink. I know. I’ve seen it done before.
He rolls his eyes and throws the one he’s offering me back, proving that it was, in fact, not laced with something. Setting both down on the tray, he walks over to me, closing the distance, and I stiffen. “Why would I drug you?”
