Chapter 2: The Contract

Adrian's fingers closed around my ankle like a manacle forged in ice. He didn't pull hard just enough to remind me that gravity was his toy, not mine.

"Down," he said.

I kicked, my heel caught his shoulder with a satisfying crack, he barely flinched, his other hand shot through the window frame and seized my waist, yanked, i tumbled inward, my knees hit the hardwood, my palms slapped the floor, the impact rattled my teeth.

"Feisty," he said.

"The photos didn't show feisty."

Father stepped forward, hands raised like he was calming a rabid dog. "Mr. Cross, please, Lily is simply nervous, bridal jitters, nothing to concern yourself with."

Adrian looked at me, his green eyes tracked from my bruised cheek to my split lip to the blood drying on my chin, then down to my paint-stained T-shirt and the torn knee of my jeans.

"She's not the girl from the gala," Adrian said.

"Of course she is!" Father's laugh was a thin, wet thing. "Just... without the professional styling, the makeup, the lighting, you know how these photographers are."

Adrian crouched, he gripped my chin, his thumb pressed into the bruise Father had left, I felt immense pain, I hissed but didn't pull away, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You're lying," Adrian said, but he didn't sound angry, he sounded... pleased. "Lily Voss has a mole on her left cheek, this one doesn't." He tilted my face toward the light. "Also, Lily Voss is two inches shorter and her eyes are brown, this one's are blue."

Lily stepped out from behind Father, she'd pressed a silk handkerchief to her scratched cheek.

"Mr. Cross," she breathed. "I'm Lily. This is my sister, Elena. I'm afraid I... I can't go through with it, I'm so sorry but Elena agreed to take my place. For the family."

Adrian stood up, he was tall, Taller than the guards, he looked at Lily, then at me, then back at Lily.

"So," he said. "A bait and switch."

"The contract is with the Voss family," Father said quickly, his voice had gone high, desperate. "The merger requires a legal bond, a Voss daughter, any Voss daughter, Elena is still a Voss, she still carries the name. The blood…"

"Fuck the blood," Adrian said.

He backhanded Father, the crack was sharp as a gunshot, father stumbled, his shoulder hit the bookshelf.

"You hit me," Father whispered, his hand went to his reddening cheek.

"I'll do worse if you waste my time again," Adrian said, he pulled a phone from his pocket. Dialed without looking away from me. "Dad? It's me. The bride is a substitute... No, I don't care... Yes, I'll still do it, a Voss is a Voss, the name's what matters, not the face... Fine. I'll get the signature tonight."

He hung up, looked down at me.

"Get up," he said.

I didn't move.

He reached down and grabbed my arm, hauled me to my feet, his grip left bruises I knew I'd find later.

"You're coming with me," he said. "Now."

"I won't marry you," I said.

He smiled, it didn't reach his eyes. "You don't have a choice none of us do."

He dragged me toward the door.

Lily stepped in front of us. "Wait! She needs a dress. The ceremony the photos the press might…"

"Has a dress," Adrian said, gesturing at my bloody T-shirt. "I don't care if she wears rags."

"But the family reputation…"

He shoved Lily aside, she stumbled into the wall. Her handkerchief fell, the scratches I'd left on her cheek were exposed four red lines.

"Move," he said.

The guards didn't stop him, father was still holding his face, staring at the shattered crystal on the floor like it was his own dignity.

Adrian pulled me through the foyer, the front door stood open, rain fell in sheets, a black car idled at the curb.

He pushed me into the back seat, climbed in after me, the door locked with a heavy, final click.

The driver didn't look back.

"Your father is a pig," he said. Drinking his whiskey he kept in his car "And your sister is a coward but you?" He looked at me, his eyes were cold. Predatory. "You have fight. That might be fun to break."

"I'll kill you before I let you touch me," I said.

He laughed. "Promises, promises."

He drank again, the car pulled away from the house. Through the rain-streaked window, I saw Lily standing on the porch, she wasn't waving, she was smiling.

Adrian saw me looking, e pulled out his phone. Swiped, showed me the screen.

A text message from Lily.

She's damaged goods but she'll do, don't be gentle, she doesn't deserve gentle.

He put the phone away. "Your sister planned this. Your father sold you and me?" He leaned close. His breath filled with whiskey. "I'm just the man who gets to collect."

I lunged for the door handle, his arm shot across my chest like a steel bar, he slammed me back against the seat, his hand closed around my throat, enough to choke.

"Try that again," he whispered, "and I'll break your fingers, one by one, while you scream."

I went still, I suddenly felt fear and chills.

"Good girl," he said, he released me and drank again.

By the time we reached the courthouse, he was unsteady, he pulled me from the car, rain soaked us both. His grip on my wrist was firm, I slipped on the marble steps, he didn't slow down, he dragged me upward, my knee scraped stone, he just kept dragging me.

Inside, a private chamber, no windows, a judge in black robes, a clerk with dead eyes and a woman tall, silver-haired, face carved from the same marble as the steps.

Mrs. Cross.

"She's not the one," Mrs. Cross said.

"She's the one today," Adrian slurred.

"Adrian…"

"Don't." He cut her off with a look. "Dad said yes. The merger is live, that's all that matters."

The judge cleared his throat. "Shall we begin?"

Adrian pushed me toward the front of the room, i stumbled, caught myself on the judge's podium.

"Do you, Adrian Cross, take this woman…"

"Yes," Adrian said.

The judge looked at me. "Do you, Lily Voss, take this man…"

"I'm not…" I started.

Adrian's hand clamped over my mouth, his fingers dug into my cheeks.

"She says yes," he said.

The judge hesitated.

Adrian's mother nodded, once.

The judge sighed. "I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride."

Adrian turned to me, he gripped my face with both hands, his palms were cold, wet from rain, he kissed me.

It wasn't a kiss, it was a conquest, his teeth cut my already-split lip, fresh blood filled my mouth, his tongue forced my lips apart, i bit down, hard.

He jerked back, licked his lip, a drop of blood mine or his, I couldn't tell trailed down his chin.

"Good," he said. "I like it rough."

His mother looked away, the judge stamped the certificate with a sound like a gavel falling on bone.

Adrian grabbed my hand, pressed my finger into an ink pad, then onto the marriage license, the red ink looked like blood against the white paper.

"There," he said. "Property transferred."

He pulled me toward the door, outside, the rain had stopped, the car waited, engine running.

He threw me inside, climbed in after me, pulled out his phone again, showed me another photo.

Lily, perfect, smiling, wearing a white dress that should have been mine.

"She sent this an hour ago," Adrian said. "With a message, want to hear it?"

I shook my head.

He played the voice note anyway.

Lily's voice, sweet and poisonous, filled the car: "Tell Elena I hope she enjoys my leftovers and Adrian? Don't be gentle, she doesn't deserve gentle."

He put the phone away, looked at me.

"Your sister planned this just like I said earlier," he said. "Your father sold you and me?" He leaned close. "I'm just the man who gets to collect."

The car finally stopped, i looked out, a mansion loomed against the dark sky, gray stone, iron gates, lights burning in every window like watchful eyes.

Adrian opened the door, pulled me out.

"Welcome home, wife," he said.

He dragged me up the steps, the front door opened, a butler stood there, face blank, eyes fixed on a point above my head.

"The bridal suite," Adrian said.

"Yes, sir."

He pulled me up the stairs, my feet barely touched the ground, the mansion was a maze of dark wood and cold light, portraits of strangers stared down at me.

At the top, a white door, he kicked it open.

A bedroom, white sheets, red roses everywhere, a bed big enough to drown in.

He pushed me inside, i stumbled, faught myself on the bedpost.

He locked the door, turned the key, slipped it into his pocket, then he turned to me.

Slowly, deliberately, he began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Now," he said. "Let's see what I paid for."