A Wild Marriage: From Contract to Craving

PROLOGUE

The rain pounded against the glass, relentless, as if trying to wash away the noise coming from the grand ballroom below.

Iris stood in front of the mirror, her hands shaking so badly that she could barely smooth down her dress. The music from her sister’s engagement party echoed through the floor, a slow, cheerful tune that made her stomach churn.

Downstairs, everyone was celebrating Clara and Julian.

Everyone was smiling.

Iris pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to force her face into that familiar, pleasant expression.

Just smile, she told herself silently, whispering the words under her breath like a spell.

Just keep smiling. Do not give him a reason.

It will all be okay.

It will be fine.

Just get through tonight.

Suddenly, a strange heaviness settled over her head. Her knees grew weak, and her vision blurred around the edges. She staggered back from the mirror, reaching for the edge of the table, but her fingers slipped.

Her mind felt as though it were wrapped in a thick fog.

What is happening to me?

Her heart raced even as her body refused to respond properly.

I only drank the water Clara gave me...

The door opened, but Iris couldn't lift her head in time.

Darkness pulled her under before she even hit the carpet.

When Iris opened her eyes, the room was spinning.

A blinding light flashed across her face, hot and sharp, burning her raw eyes. She blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the fog clouding her vision.

“Look at her!” a voice shouted, thick with disgust. “She couldn't even let her own sister have one night!”

Iris blinked again.

She was lying on a bed, her dress torn at the shoulder.

Julian stood near the foot of the mattress, his hair messy and his shirt partially unbuttoned. He wasn't looking at her with love or concern.

There was only panic in his eyes.

“I don't know what happened!” Julian cried, looking toward the open doorway where a crowd of high-society guests had gathered. “She called me up here! She said she needed help, and then she threw herself at me! I tried to push her off, I swear!”

“Julian?” Iris managed to slur.

Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She tried to push herself up on her elbows, but her arms buckled beneath her.

“What... what are you saying? I didn't... I was dizzy...”

“Shut your mouth!”

The voice cut through the room.

Silas Hayes stepped inside.

His presence immediately made the room feel suffocating. He didn't look like a grieving father or a confused host. His face was twisted with rage.

Beside him, Clara covered her face, letting out loud, pathetic sobs. Their mother, Elena, stood slightly behind him, her hands trembling as she pressed them against her lips.

“Father,” Iris rasped, tears finally breaking through her blurred vision.

She dragged herself to the edge of the bed, her feet barely touching the floor.

“Please... listen to me. Somebody put something in my drink. I fell asleep. I didn't do this. I would never do this to Clara!”

“You dare lie in front of all these people?” Silas's voice was low, vibrating with anger.

He took two long steps toward her.

“You have always been jealous of Clara. Always! You couldn't bear to see her happy with Julian, so you tried to ruin her!”

“No! No, Father, please!”

Iris begged, her voice cracking as she looked past him at her sister.

“Clara, tell him! You brought me that glass of water! You know I wasn't feeling well!”

Clara sobbed harder, burying her face against Julian's chest.

“How could you blame me, Iris? How could you be so evil?”

“I'm not lying!”

Iris screamed, the sound tearing from her throat.

She finally forced herself to stand, swaying on her feet as she held her hands out, desperately trying to reach them.

“Mother, please! Look at me! You know me! Tell him I wouldn't do this! Please, Mother, say something!”

Elena met Iris's eyes for one brief second.

Iris saw the faint glint of tears in her mother's eyes. She saw the way her fingers twitched.

But Elena said nothing.

She simply lowered her head and stepped backward, hiding behind her husband's shadow.

The silence that followed was worse than any insult.

“She has nothing to say to a girl like you,” Silas said coldly.

Before Iris could take another breath, Silas raised his hand and brought it down hard across her face.

The slap echoed through the bedroom.

The force of the strike sent Iris crashing sideways against the nightstand. Her cheek burned as if it had been branded with fire. Her lip split instantly, and the taste of blood filled her mouth.

She gasped, pressing a hand against her swollen jaw, her eyes wide with shock.

“You are a stain on this family,” Silas growled, looking down at her as if she were dirt beneath his shoes. “I have tolerated your pathetic existence for twenty-two years, hoping you would grow up to be useful. But you are nothing. You are trash.”

“Father...” Iris whispered.

Warm tears washed over her cut lip, stinging the fresh wound.

“Do not call me that!” he yelled. “Get up!”

He grabbed her by the upper arm, his fingers digging into her skin so hard that she knew they would leave dark marks by morning.

Then he dragged her out of the room.

The guests parted in silence, watching her humiliation with cold curiosity.

Nobody stepped forward.

Nobody raised a hand to help her.

Julian kept his eyes glued to the floor, while Clara watched with a faint, satisfied curl at the corner of her lips.

Silas hauled Iris down the staircase, her feet dragging uselessly against the steps.

He threw open the front doors, allowing the freezing rain to sweep into the foyer.

“Father, please!” Iris sobbed, clutching at his sleeve, her fingernails digging into his coat as she tried to anchor herself. “It's raining! I have nowhere to go! Please don't do this! I didn't do anything wrong!”

“You leave tonight with nothing,” Silas said, his voice flat and devoid of any human feeling. “You do not use our name. You do not contact this house. If you ever show your face near my family again, I will make sure you end up in a place far worse than the street.”

With one final push, he threw her out onto the front porch.

Iris lost her balance and tumbled down the front steps before landing hard on the wet ground.

The doors slammed shut behind her, followed by the sound of the locks clicking into place.

Iris lay there in the darkness, the freezing rain drenching her dress within seconds and flattening her blonde hair against her face.

She tried to push herself up, but her limbs were completely drained of strength.

The cold hit her like a blow, sinking straight into her bones.

She dragged herself toward the gate at the end of the driveway, her knees scraping against the stones.

When she reached the bars, she held onto them and stared back at the warm, glowing lights of the mansion.

“It's okay,” she whimpered into the darkness, her chest heaving as she curled her body into a ball on the pavement. “It's okay, Iris. You are okay. Just breathe. Just... just keep breathing. It will all be okay. It has to be okay.”

She pressed her hand against her flat stomach, her fingers trembling against her wet dress.

Tears poured down her face, mixing with the rain.

Her lip was still bleeding, staining her chin, but she ignored the pain.

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced her lips to curl upward into a small, broken smile in the darkness.