Chapter Six

Jasmine POV 

I stood at the entrance of the grand cathedral. Everything looked too shiny, too bright, too fake. Lights from cameras flashed everywhere. People were whispering my name. I saw phones pointed at me, reporters trying to get a shot of my dress. 

“Ohh for the love of the moon," I groaned under my breath, narrowing my gaze at the reporters swarming around the cathedral like flies. “Does Blake have to make a show with them? We know he's popular but flooding the cathedral with reporters." I hissed through my teeth. Thankfully my veil was over my head, so my expression filled with disdain and disgust and anger was easily masked. This was not a big day for me but I can't have the reporter's flashing camera capture my un-smiling-angry-face to make me a ridicule in their reports.

The music started playing from someone inside, the choristers were singing in a low tone and the instrument's filed out, adding a beautiful tone to the song. Everyone stood up. My father held my hand tightly. I felt his hand shaking. Or maybe it was mine.

“Are you ready?” he whispered to me.

I gave him a small nod and a smile that didn't reach my eyes. “Doesn’t matter if I am. It’s happening anyway. There's literally nothing I can do about it.”

He sighed and pressed his palms to his forehead dramatically and said nothing more. We took our first step forward. I kept walking, holding my breath, feeling like my life was not mine anymore. Of course it wasn't? Here I was the sacrificial lamb for a deed I didn't commit? How I wish my father was the one in my shoes?

At the altar, Blake stood in his black tux. He looked like he had just walked out of a movie. The devil in a suit. He looks so calm and with this smug look on his face. Stupid face! He was already staring at me, smiling. But I knew that smile. It was fake. Just like everything else today.

As I reached him, he took my hand and allowed him to do it. I made a little prayer to the heavens to withhold my tongue from lashing out at him in the presence of these people lest I make a fool of myself. But I knew that would happen anyway. His fingers were warm but his grip was tight. Too tight. I looked up to find him watching me, heat flared on my check. I gave him a glare and he smirked.

The priest began the ceremony. I heard the words but they felt far away.

Then it was time for the vows. Blake went first.

“I promise,” he said, staring at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t wait to break, “to protect you, to honor you, and to stand by you... forever. In joy and in pain, in light and in shadow, I promise to be your husband.”

The crowd clapped softly. Hmmm! What a freaking show. How can a devil be promising me all these? Now it was my turn. I swallowed hard.

“I promise,” I said, trying not to sound like I was choking, “to walk with you, to stand beside you, even if the ground shakes. I promise to be your wife... even when I don’t feel like it.”

The last part was intentional and I made sure he felt the tone of it. But surprisingly the people smiled. They had no idea what was going on, fuck me!

Blake leaned in, his mouth close to my ear.

“Smile, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I can ruin you while you’re still wearing white.”

I turned my head just slightly, smiled wide for the camera, and whispered back, “Touch me, honey, and I’ll break your fingers into pieces and have them delivered to your sweet father.”

He chuckled lightly. But it wasn’t funny to me.

The priest cleared his throat, having been the only one to watch the interaction. “You may kiss the bride.” he booked and I felt my spine straightened.

No way I am going to kiss this devil. His lips won't touch mine! My mind mentally screamed at me but I couldn't do anything. Blake turned to me again. Slowly. He leaned in. His lips brushed mine. Soft at first... then harder. The kiss was angry. It was fire. Not love. I pressed back with the same heat. The cameras flashed even more.

People clapped. Ohhh my God, they thought it was passion. It wasn’t. It was a war.

We walked out of the cathedral. I kept my head high. People threw flowers. Some even cried. I wanted to scream at them to stop making such a big fuss over a loveless marriage but I held back.

In the limo, the door shut and the silence hit us.i was glad for it. 

Blake pulled at his tie. “That went well, though.”

I looked out the window. “Don’t fool yourself, honey. This is just a show. It was just a show.”

He turned to me, a devilish smirk pulling at his lips. “Did you think for a second I care about this wedding? You think I want to be stuck with you? You think I want to spend a year with an enraged psychotic woman with the glare and deathly stare?”

I faced him, grinning from ear to ear. “Ohhh my!” I fanned myself dramatically whilst giving him my sweetest smile. "So you have been watching me? I am feeling so hot. Look, I am blushing.”

He rolled his eyes at me. "Stop being dramatic!”

"Then don’t act like a child. You think you’re the only one who’s angry? I didn’t choose this either.”

He leaned closer. “I don’t need to act, Jasmine. I am a problem. And now I’m your problem.”

“Good,” I said. “Because I’m more than ready to make your life a nightmare.”

He smirked again. “Try me.”

We didn't speak after that. We kept silent till we got to the hotel. At the hotel, everything screamed money. Flowers, candles, gold everywhere. This was his hotel, his world, his territory.

We walked into the ballroom. Hundreds of people waited. Everyone clapped when they saw us.

I put on my fake smile. Blake did too. We danced the first dance. My hands in his, both of us stiff, both pretending.

“You can at least try to enjoy this,” he muttered, his eyes taking over my midnight blue off-shoulder dress I had changed into.

“I’d rather be dead,” I whispered back.

He spun me gently. “Smile, sweetheart. Cameras are watching.”

I smiled. “Smile too, honey. Don’t want people thinking your new wife hates you.”

He chuckled again, the sound rumbling off his chest sending shivers down my spine. We kept dancing. People came over with gifts. Relatives I didn’t know hugged me. Celebrities took pictures with us. I wanted to run away. But I stood there. I smiled. And played the role. But inside, I was screaming and venting madly.

…..

Hours passed and the party eventually died down. Blake led me to the wedding suite. The door closed behind us. It was quiet now. Just me and him. I walked straight to the bedroom. He followed.

“Stop following me!" I gritted out.

“You're mine now,” he said, leaning against the wall like he owned the world.

I stopped, and turned slowly. “On paper,” I said. “Not in bed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re married.”

“Doesn’t mean I owe you anything,” I replied. “Snap out of the dream, honey. You may have kissed me without my consent but I won't open my legs wide for you.”

He laughed darkly. “We’ll see about that.”

What the hell does that mean? I walked to the bed, pulled off the extra pillows, and threw them on the couch.

He looked at me, confused.

“You can sleep there,” I said.

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I glared at him. “Couch is all yours. Enjoy honey”

“You’re serious?”

“I’m dead serious.”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “You really think you can push me out of my own bed?”

“It’s my bedroom. And that makes the bed mine and everything in it.” I smirked cockily. “But I’m giving you the couch. That’s generous of me. You should be appreciative.”

He stepped closer and I raised my chin high. “You know, Jasmine... you act all strong. But you’re just scared.”

I stepped even closer. “You think fear looks like this?”

We stood chest to chest. His eyes on mine, our breath hard fanned against ourselves.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he whispered.

“So are you,” I whispered back.

He stared at me. Then without a word, he walked into the bathroom. I stood still, my heart pounding. What was I thinking about doing that? Jasmine you must be out of your mind? The sound of the shower came on. I hope it's cold water. Good. Maybe it would cool him down. I locked the bedroom door. Sat on the edge of the bed. Kicked off my shoes. My dress felt heavy. This wasn’t how a wedding night was supposed to be. But this wasn’t love. This was a deal. A contract. A trap.

I stood up, changed into a long shirt. I sat on the bed again. I heard the shower stop. A minute later, he came out, wet hair, shirtless, towel around his waist. I avoided looking at him.

He looked at the door and tried the handle.

“Did you lock the door?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He turned to me. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” I said again. “I don’t trust you.”

He laughed under his breath. “This is going to be fun.”

I pulled the blanket over me. “If you’re done talking, go to your couch.”

He walked over, bent down close to my face. “One day,” he said. “You’ll come to me.”

I looked him in the eyes. “Don’t hold your breath.”

He smirked and walked away. He lay on the couch. I turned off the light. The room went quiet. But sleep didn’t come easy. Not for me. Not for him. I heard him sigh. He heard me shift under the covers.

The space between us was small, but the wall between us was bigger.

And it was only day one.