CHAPTER 2: Mr and Mrs Blackwood

CHAPTER 2: Mr and Mrs Blackwood 

Just like always his face was expressionless—hard, like it had been carved from granite. But today, I saw something different in that impassive face, his eyes, those chocolate brown almond eyes were burning with a strange fire—a dark fire. He was angry. 

His dark eyes scanned the scene like a hawk and landed on Patricia.

“Step away from her. Now.”

  Her tough expression faltered, and she looked flustered. I was sure she was shocked and confused on why the wealthiest man in the country cared about a poor lowly orphan like me. I never let anyone know my connection to Zachary.

“Mr Blackwood, what is your–”

He ignored her, and was already walking towards me. His scent hit me first—crisp, clean, cold, masculine—the way I remembered it. I almost wanted to bolt out of there.

“What are you doing here—”

He grabbed my waist with both hands, pulling me flat against his front. 

Then he kissed me.

It was not tender. It was not soft, nor was it sweet. He was silencing the world. He was pouring out his anger. Once a long time ago, I would have melted—been over the moon. But not anymore. Not after what happened.

Zachary was not a man to be trifled with.

I gasped into his mouth, too stunned to move. When I tried to push him away, his grip on my waist became tighter. I finally gave up, and let him take the lead—do what he wanted.

The noise and murmur returned from the reporters, and the lights had begun to flash again.

When he finally pulled away, he grabbed my hand, as I was struggling to get air into my lungs and steady myself. He turned to the cameras and said,

“There’s no scandal. My fiancée and I are only here to sign our marriage licence. This circus is over.”

I froze, choking on air.

His fiancée? 

He didn’t even look at me as he turned and began dragging me towards the judge's private Chambers. Behind us the crowd had erupted. The reporters were clicking shots and firing questions, but Zachary's security held them back. 

He still didn't look at me as he dragged me after him. His steps were measured and deadly. I stumbled trying to keep up with his long quick strides, still too stunned and shocked to speak.

He didn't stop until we were inside the private office. The judge stood waiting, clearly briefed. They were papers already laid out on the table. He dropped me into the chair in front of the table and took the one beside it.

Still without meeting my eyes, he signed the papers. It was at that point, it all got real to me. Panic and fear shot up inside me. There was no way I was going to marry Zachary.

“Don't you dare to create any more drama. I'm warning you, Madelyn,” he said in a voice so low that only I could hear.

I knew at that point that he found out about Vance and I.

“Why are you–”

“Sign it now,” he ordered, casting an impatient glance at his wristwatch.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to type away at it. 

 “You can't be serious!” I hissed. 

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He finally looked at me, putting away his phone. 

Aside from his personal guard, the others in the room—a clerk, a court aide and the judge hovered awkwardly. 

Zachary snapped, his eyes burning dangerously. “Everyone out. Now.”

They scrambled, leaving silence behind. Then we were alone. I was rattled but I tried not to show it.

“You think I would rather hop on a plane and make an emergency seven hour flight to come and get married to my ward when I should be attending to urgent business?”

His voice was still relatively low. Zachary rarely raised his voice, but it did nothing to belly the bolts of anger in it. 

“You can't be serious,” I shook my head in disbelief.  

“I'm not here for jokes, Madelyn. Sign the papers, now,” he replied coldly, casting another impatient glance at his wristwatch.

If he had somewhere that important to be, then I would only be too glad to see him leave.

Just today, I got married and divorced. Now I was being forced to do it again—today.

I held his gaze, eyes burning. “You can't force me to do this.”

“Watch me.”

“This is crazy. You don't even like me.”

What happened four years ago was enough proof for me. There was no way I was going to marry him. I still have nightmares of what happened.

“This isn't about liking you,” he replied, his voice cold as ice. “It's about controlling the wildfire which you lit with your reckless decision. You almost set your name—even mine on fire.”

“You don't know anything!” I said defensively.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re right. I didn't know that you had a boyfriend. I didn't know you would indulge your childish impulse to have a secret shotgun wedding, even when the family of the boy in question would do anything to ruin you!”

Tears welled up in my eyes. His words were cruel and had hit a spot. He knew this and he was doing it internationally. He didn’t care. He never cared.

He went on. “Obviously, I didn't know better, because I made the mistake of trusting that you will at least be smart enough to stay out of the headlines after what happened.”

I flinched. A tear dropped. “You’re not my father.”

“No. I'm the man who now has to clean your mess. So now, let's not start analysing what we feel. Sign the papers.”

I swiped angrily at my tears. “I won't.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You will. Because, this is the only thing that is keeping you from being branded a gold digger, and a social-climbing whore for the rest of your life.”

More tears spilled down my face. My only crime was that I fell in love. I was the one betrayed and deceived but I was the one who had to suffer consequences.

I knew Zachary was right. I didn't want my reputation tainted. I had so many plans for my future. At that point, I knew I had lost the battle, and so did he.

“You want to walk out of this with your dignity? You sign.”

Hot tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back. 

I hated Zachary. I hated the calm and the ease with which he always made me look stupid and immature. I hated that I ever looked at him another way.

My hand shook as I signed the marriage license. 

This was not going to be easy. I hated Vance, but I knew that it was far easier and better being tied in a marriage with him than Zachary Blackwood. They were leagues apart. We were leagues apart. It was going to be a nightmare. A prison.

The judge returned, and visibly exhaled when he saw the signed papers. 

“Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Blackwood. You're officially and legally husband and wife.”

I turned to him, fury, pain, and devastation in my gaze.

“Are you happy now? You always like to see me miserable.”

Zachary didn't blink. “No. Not quite.”

His body guard stepped forward and pulled a plane ticket from his pocket and handed it to him. Zachary placed the ticket on the table, sliding it towards me.

“Effective immediately, you will leave for Lyon. You will stay at the Blackwood Estate until I say otherwise. You will have no contact with anyone here, especially that boy—i'll make sure to see to it. You will not cause another scandal. Neither will you return unless I order it.”

My mouth dropped open. “You’re exiling me?”

“I’m containing you.”

“You can't do this to me! I can make decisions for myself!”

His eyes hardened. “You lost that right when you let yourself get into the mess that you did. You almost disgraced my name. You're lucky I let you keep it.”

“You’re unbelievable. I never asked for it,” I shot back on the brink of a meltdown.

He leaned in, voice low.

“Remember this, Madelyn. You carry my name now. Keep a low profile and don't try to do anything stupid. I'll be watching you.”

Before I could reply, he grabbed my hand off the table and pulled the golden wedding band out, tossing it in a corner I didn't even see. My arm tingled like it had been zapped by electricity.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

“Good,” he replied, getting up. “That means we understand each other perfectly. Your plane leaves in thirty minutes.” 

With that, he left with sparing me another glance.