In London

Cillian didn’t look at me the entire flight. He pretended I wasn’t there and worked on his computer. I could practically feel his hate for me oozing off him.

My palms were sweating, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I wondered if I would survive being his fiancée, let alone marriage. He was cold and calculated, and he had no plans of treating me like I was his wife.

One thing I couldn’t deny was how hot he was. He was a beautiful man with captivating brown eyes and a beautiful body. He obviously worked out. He looked like he was carved out by the gods themselves.

I couldn’t imagine a man like that settling down. He probably had a harem of women. All the men in the mafia did. Cathal cheated on his wife multiple times, Lorcan had a different girlfriend every day, and Finn Kavanagh was always at the brothel.

He was Cathal’s youngest son and the irresponsible one. I had never seen him sober since his mother and Uma died two years ago. He rarely ever came home, and no one did anything about it.

They let him do whatever he wanted. He had passed out in the kitchen or by the door after a party more times than I could count.

My eyes went to Cillian again, wondering if he knew how hot he was. He probably did.

“If you stare at me any longer, your eyes are going to burn,” Cillian said without sparing me a glance.

I blushed in embarrassment and looked away immediately. I had already been caught ogling him within hours of being together. I had to admit that his English accent was very attractive.

It almost made him hotter.

“You’re skittish and fearful. I doubt you’ll survive in London.” He said to me.

He was right. I was scared and too anxious about saying the wrong thing.

I didn’t like speaking due to how many times I had been beaten for using the wrong tone of voice. But that didn’t mean I was weak.

If I had survived Cathal Kavanagh and his spawns, I would survive London. I had to for the sake of my mother.

I would have corrected Cillian, but I didn’t. I had never been one to stand up for myself. I had long seen the consequences of doing that.

“Are you mute?” He asked.

I shook my head, and he snickered. He threw a book at me. It was about the history of England, and it would have hit me in the face if I hadn’t gotten out of the way.

“Read that so you can stop looking at me like I’m Jesus.”

His attention returned to his work, and we arrived a few minutes later. Dublin, Ireland, wasn’t far. Realistically, we didn’t need to take a private plane. A car ride would have gotten us there. It would have taken longer, though.

There were so many cars waiting for us when we got off the plane. Once again, I got into a different car than the one Cillian was in. He didn’t want to be close to me. I couldn’t blame him.

I wasn’t his ideal option. He’d wanted Daniela.

The drive was a little longer than I realized, and I was grateful when we arrived.

I knew Cillian must have been rich since he had a private plane that even the Kavanagh family didn’t have. But when I saw his house, I gasped. The place was huge.

Even the drive from the gate to the house was longer than necessary.

His house was practically a castle. It looked vintage but well-kept. A bodyguard opened the door for me and ushered me out. I wasn’t used to being treated like that, so I didn’t know how to act.

I pretended I was used to people opening doors for me because my mother’s life depended on it. The same bodyguards led me inside Cillian’s castle where he was.

He was already talking to the staff in his rich British accent when I got there. He called me over, and I went to stand next to him.

“This is Uma Kavanagh, my fiancé and the future lady of this house. Treat her with respect and get her whatever she wants.” He said to them. “You can go back to your duties now.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel about having staff to do everything for me. I was used to being the staff and doing whatever was asked of me without pay. I had to remember to forget being a maid for the time being.

Cillian put his hand on the small of my back and led me up the stairs. His house was huge. It had high ceilings, English oak floorboards, and the walls were a mix of deep brown and dark red.

He led me to the second floor, where my room was. The room had Charcoal black themes all around. It was very dull, but it was more of a suite than a room. It had a king-sized bed, a fireplace, a TV, floor-to-ceiling windows, an ensuite bathroom, and what seemed like a walk-in closet.

It even had a chandelier and a balcony.

“This is where we will be sleeping,” Cillian said.

I turned to look at him in shock. He said we. I didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as another man. We weren’t even married, and he didn’t belong to me. Sooner or later, Daniela would come back and take her position as his wife.

I wasn’t worthy of being married to a rich man. Besides, the basis for the marriage would be lies. I wasn’t Uma Kavanagh. I was Fiona, the illegitimate daughter of Cathal, whom he hated with all his strength.

“Don’t look at me like that, ginger. We are getting married in a month. I will have you in my bed every night,” he said as he inched closer. I walked back until he cornered me by the door. “This marriage will be real in every sense of the word. You are mine, Uma Kavanagh, and I will never stop reminding you.”

It was an arranged marriage. It wasn’t supposed to be real. I had never been with another man before. That didn’t mean I hadn’t done other things. I was far from naïve.

 Lorcan would bring his friends around and force me to do things with them ever since I was fifteen.

I had to be silent, or he would whip me until I passed out. He made money from me ever since he was in college by trading me for sexual favors. The only thing he didn’t allow his friends to do was penetrative sex.

I was scared of being with a man. They were rough, and they didn’t stop when you told them to. Cillian wasn’t any different. He was the same monster as Lorcan in a different skin.