Trapped

Damon Marshall 

I stood inside my room, staring at the torn scrap of burgundy colored scarf clutched in my palm. My grandmother owned the biggest fabric company in the world so I knew from the way it felt, that it was a rare and exquisite high-grade silk. The kind of textile that the elites would gladly kill to have. But it wasn't the material that held my mind hostage, it was the memory of its owner.

No one had ever possessed the audacity to be impatient with me or look me in the eye and threaten to kill me.

I chuckled softly as I recalled the way she stomped her feet like a bratty little kid. It had been a long time since anything genuinely made me smile, but Miss Scarf was something else. 

Who the hell was she ? From the way she looked and how she didn't bother about ripping such an expensive scarf just to escape my presence, she must come from wealth. Although I had personally met almost all the spoiled brats in the city, and loathed their shallow and vain personalities, this woman seemed different. 

My phone rang violently in my pocket, and I quickly pulled it out. “Yes?"

“Sir, the attorney said she didn't see any other woman besides your new wife. The security guards there also said they've not seen any woman with a burgundy scarf." My head security guard said over the line.

“Keep searching." I commanded, clutching the scarf tighter. "Don't stop until you find her."

"Understood, Sir."

I threw the phone on the bed, my heart thumping loudly against my chest. Who are you miss scarf? And  what the hell are you doing to me?

After a couple more minutes of racking my brain to at least place her voice, I forced my mind to finally drift to my new wife. 

I wondered briefly what she would even look like. Not that I cared about her appearance. All she needed to do was look presentable to a bunch of elites, then please my grandmother and get my family's approval.

I would rather bury myself alive before I ever let Carlos get his filthy hands on the company I had spent my entire youth sweating and bleeding for. It was all because of a damn, manipulative marital clause in my grandfather's will. Now my love obsessed grandmother would rather die than amend the clause she had been issued the right to amend or remove. 

I just needed a legal wife for three months. Three months to satisfy the board and secure I and my brother's position, and then I'll sort everything else out. 

I pulled out my phone again and sent a text message to the number Vera had sent to me. It was time to see the human goods I had heavily paid for.

I typed out a text.

Damon: I do hope you're ready to fulfill your duties, wife. Vera would bring you.

I clicked send, waving off the guilt that was starting to creep in.

There's no such thing as guilt in our dirty world, grandmother would have to forgive me if she ever found out. 

My only real concern was whether my grandmother would accept the woman. That was another major issue but like every major issue in my life, I refused to dwell on it. 

After a moment, my mind drifted back to the Scarf woman and my cock throbbed painfully inside my sweatpants. I could still vividly feel the warmth of her soft flesh pressed against my cock, the stomping of her feet and that blasted nickname.

Mr. Button.

Cursing under my breath, I strolled into the bathroom and took a cold shower, completely avoiding any stray thought that led back to the Scarf woman.

After the shower, I got dressed in a dark suit and made my way down stairs. The new wife should be here already, and I needed to go over the rules.

The moment I reached the living room, I heard shouting.

"So why the hell are you following me around like a lost puppy?" 

It was Scott. 

I pressed two fingers on my temple, already anticipating the headache I was definitely going to develop in the next minute. The boy was a box of emotions. He could fight with anything at all, if it looked at him the wrong way, only to feel bad about it later.

I rounded the corner to see who he was fighting with.

A woman with curly black hair stood in the middle of the living. She wore an oversized knitted sweater over a pair of worn out jeans. She had her back turned to me, but I could already tell she was young.

Vera stood beside her, with her hands pressed together, she looked extremely confused.

Vera had probably made me marry one of Scott's fangirls. It didn't matter though, it was just for three months after all.

"Are you dumb?" Scott roared, stepping into the girl's personal space with his fingers clenched. "Why did you break into my family's private estate?" 

"I didn't break in!" the girl shot back defiantly. "I was invited to come and a driver picked me up from my workplace and brought me here!" "A driver? What driver you bloody liar?" Scott scoffed, furiously pacing the floor. "Just how low can you go? How dare you even let yourself into the Marshall estate? Even if this were a dream, you should have forced yourself to wake up before you brought your dirty presence in here." 

"I didn't invite myself here, Scott! And I didn't know you still occupied the building. I thought it had been sold off." 

"Of course you thought it was sold off. What exactly are you here for?" Scott asked, folding his arms across his chest. "Tell me."

 "I don't owe you an explanation, Scott."

 "You owe me a lifetime of explanations." 

"Well, I'm not giving you one anymore. I didn't come here to waste my breath on a boy who has refused to grow up," she said, and folded her arms beneath her breasts.

The corners of my lips twitched. Well, it appeared Scott finally met his match. This girl had nerve and that was quite interesting.

Realizing my little brother was on the verge of completely losing his temper, I decided to step in before they tore each other's faces apart.

"Scott."

The simple command made him step away from the girl.

As soon as Vera sighted me, she quickly hurried forward in relief.

"Mr. Marshall! Thank God you're here," Vera said breathless, as she gestured toward the young woman. "Mr. Marshall... That's Ruby Michaelson. Your legal wife."

Scott and the young woman quickly turned toward me, looking confused.

"Wi... Wife? His wife? His wife, Vera?" The young woman asked, confusion flicking across her face.

I mirrored that confusion as I stared at those brown eyes. The familiarity slapping me across the face.

Scott stepped forward with a frown. "What the hell is she talking about, Damon? What wife?"

I heard him but I couldn't answer his questions. My eyes were glued to Joan, the little girl I remembered from years back.

I couldn't believe the universe had decided to play a twisted joke on me. Was this punishment for trying to trick my grandmother? The woman I had signed a marriage certificate with, the woman I officially made my wife was her.

The same girl I encouraged Scott to pursue years ago. The same girl I watched my younger brother fall hopelessly in love with.

The same deceitful girl he had caught cheating on his birthday. The one who had driven him to the lake and left me with injuries that had taken away the chance of ever becoming a father.

Scott looked between my rigid face and her tear-stained one, his own face hardening into stone.

"Brother? This is a joke, right?"

I sighed, my eyes still fixed on her face.

"Seems, Joan or Ruby Michaelson is indeed my new wife."  I answered.

The words sounded strange in my mouth. Of all the women in the world.

The was a deafening silence, no one even dared to move.

Scott stared at me in disbelief for a minute, and then he exploded. 

He grabbed an antique anti-clock from the table and hauled it across the room. The rare clock shattered against the wall before crashing down to the floor.

"No! She can't fucking be you wife!"

"Scott..." I warned, my voice calm even as my eyes remained fixed on my priceless clock that was now a shattered wreckage on the floor.

"She ruined your life!"

"I know," I said calmly, glancing at Ruby. "Which is why... she will be leaving now."

Vera glanced between the three of us before staring directly at me.

"Mr. Marshall..."

"Get me another woman."

"You'd have to divorce her first, and it would definitely take time. Plus it's almost evening, it's way too late to find a replacement or do anything before tomorrow morning's deadline."

I ignored Vera, stepping closer to Ruby. "When did you change your name to Ruby Michaelson?" I asked.

She lowered her gaze to the floor, the earlier bravado she had displayed against Scott completely gone.

"Five years ago," she whispered softly.

I placed two fingers on my forehead again, the headache creeping in.

Joan George Michaelson. That was her full birth name, but throughout her youth, she had always gone by Joan George. The name Ruby Michaelson didn't sound familiar when I signed the paperwork earlier without bothering to meet the girl first.

I had married my younger brother's cheating ex-girlfriend. Way to go, Damon, I bitterly mumbled to myself.

Scott dragged a hand through his disheveled hair, before turning to me. "You married fucking Joan George Michaelson. The woman who ruined our lives!"

"Calm down, Scott... I said I know." 

"No, you don't." He said, shaking his head. "If you actually remembered, you wouldn't be so calm about this. This bitch lied to me, cheated on me, and made me almost die, you also almost died trying to save me!"

His words echoed in the room, dragging up memories I had tried to forget.

I remembered that day as though it were just yesterday. The cold lake. Scott's unmoving body. The slam of my private member against the rock. The blood, the hospital. 

I could clearly recall the doctor's voice informing me that I would require rough sex to even feel an once of pleasure. And even worse, that I would never have children of my own.

I had spent years convincing myself that none of it mattered. I had told myself that she was just a spoiled little girl who didn't know any better. But, now that very little girl  was standing right inside my living room. As my legal wife.

"Why did you agree to marry a total stranger, Joan... Ruby Michaelson?" I asked.

She looked up, her mournful doe eyes, going wide. "I... "

"She wanted to retire with a wealthy man. Her other clients probably pay less." Scott cut her off.

Ruby flinched, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I've never been with anyone since six years ago." She whispered shakily.

"Yeah, and I was the first man to step into the moon." Scott mocked bitterly. 

Ruby didn't utter another word to defend herself. She gently lowered her head again, her shoulders slumping.

As I looked closer at her, I noticed she looked exhausted. She didn't look guilty at all, she just looked like someone who was tired of being judged.

Looking closer, I discovered she had dark circles, her clothes were worn out and she looked very sad.

I sighed, the weight of the decision I was about to make, already crashing on my shoulders. I needed this marriage to save my family's company from Carlos, and no matter how fast I could pull the strings, I would be unable to meet up with the deadline.

"You'll remain by wife for three month," I stated, my voice devoid of any warmth. "The very second those ninety days are up, you will completely disappear from this city. Do you understand me?" 

"I will," she whispered quietly, not looking up.

"That's only if you'll actually be strong enough to walk out of here when I'm done with you," Scott cut in, a vengeful grin spreading across his face as he stepped closer to her.

"Welcome to hell, Jo... No. Welcome to hell, Ruby Michaelson."