Too Late To Love Me, Mr Blackwell

LYDIA

“Hard Launch? Business Mogul, Adrian Blackwell and Socialite, Vanessa Darnell  Spark Dating Rumors As The Duo Steps Out In Style.”

I stared at the plastered cozy photos of both my husband and sister.

Judging from the smile on his face… the same one I haven’t seen in months, it was obvious that he wanted to send his message across.

The last tabloid had called them, “The Gala’s Most Talked- About Pair”

Adrian hated me and for the past eight months he had spent everyday reminding me of how my v our wedding was a mistake.

The bedroom door slammed open behind me pulling me out of my reverie, I didn't spare a glance cause I knew exactly who was there.

"You were complaining about not being invited to anything…" he started, his voice icy as ever.

I finally turned around to look at him and found him standing in the doorway, staring at me with those furrowed brows.

He had on a suit which most probably cost enough for my vacay to the Maldives.

That's if he'll let me go.

His dark hair was styled just right, into a loose dutt that made him look sexy.

A sexy jerk, if I may.

But I couldn't miss the familiar expression of barely concealed disgust. 

He reserved it only for me.

"We have somewhere to be." 

I gave him a questioning look before asking, "Where are we going?"

He stepped into the room.

"We have been invited to have dinner at your parents home," he explained.

My stomach twisted because meals with the Darnells were never just that. 

It was always a performance and I hated to be in their carefully orchestrated play with every fiber of my being especially because that was the reason I was here in the first place.

I—the adopted daughter—was always the villain in the story.

And my sister, Vanessa, who was in fact the epitome of evil, was the golden goose.

"I would need a change of clothes," I told him, gesturing to my home outfit with my hands.

His raised brows told me that he didn't seem impressed nor convinced.

"What you have on will suffice," he said to me in a no nonsense tone.

It was the tone he always adopted when he wanted to fire incompetent employees.

And I hated it.

I let out an irritated hiss.

Was he blind? 

I was dressed in worn out brown slacks and an oversized hand me down polo shirt that was hardly appropriate for a family dinner.

Adrian checked his watch. 

"We don't have time."

I rolled my eyes, standing.

"I just need fifteen minutes to—"

"Lydia," he barked, cutting me off, "I said we do not have time for you to do that!"

The glare he flashed me in the silence that followed made me flinch.

But the silence lasted for only a moment before I stubbornly started toward the adjacent closet anyway. 

"Damn you!" He growled, at my side in three long strides and gripping my wrist.

I gasped, my eyes flying up to meet his as his finger clasped over my hand.

His grip was not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to stop me.

"Didn't you hear me?" He snapped.

I swallowed, blinking.

His jaw tightened and I could see the veins in his neck begin to jut out.

Shivers ran down my spine.

"Adrian, you know I can't go like—"

He hissed.

"Lydia, you shall go with me, now." 

He began to pull me toward the door before I could register what was happening. 

"Adrian?" I gasped.

He mumbled curses as he began to drag me down the dark corridor to the stairs.

I should have fought. 

I should have ripped my arm away from his and told him to go without me. 

But living eight months in this facade of a marriage had worn me down. 

I had learned that fighting Adrian Blackwell was like fighting a brick wall. 

It was a totally pointless move, and did I mention, excruciatingly exhausting.

I was silent as he dragged me down the flight of stairs and out the door with the light rain pouring all over my unbound hair.

He shoved me into his car and slipped into the driver's seat with another hiss.

Then we zoomed off.

I stared straight ahead as he drove through the bleak city to my parents house.

Adopted parents.

I looked out the window to see that the light rain had finally come to a stop.

Nut the sky was still looking sad and gray. 

My slowly mind drifted back to our wedding day in the suffocating silence until I could vividly see my adopted mother's face.

I was instantly back to the moment when she had ordered me to put on Vanessa's wedding dress.

No had been my first answer.

But she had begged me, desperately, even going to her knees to plead with me.

"It will be just until we find her," she had said in her mawkish voice.

My sister Vanessa, had had the guts to ditch her own husband on her wedding. 

Her fingers had begun digging into my shoulders when I took too long to answer. 

"You'll switch back with Vanessa when your father brings her over. I promise."

But Vanessa never came back in time. 

I was still clad in her dress with my hands trembling as I recited the vows I never meant to say in her place.

Then the priest had announced, "You may kiss the bride," with a smile and my poor heart had rapidly dropped to the bottom of my churning stomach in an instant.

He had reached for me, arms wrapping around my waist and drawing me closer.

I prayed Vanessa would come.

She never did, up until the moment Adrian had lifted the veil and beheld me instead of her.

I recalled the way his face had fallen, eyes instantly icing while his entire body had gone rigid in my arms.

"You are not my bride," he had snarled down at me in a low whisper.

Then he stormed out of the hall before I could speak, shouting for Vanessa after calling me an imposter and a fraud.

Yet nothing could have ever prepared me for when Vanessa finally arrived.

She had taken one look at Adrian and lied through her perfect teeth, telling everyone present that I had drugged her. 

My jaw had fallen slack when she said I had orchestrated all of that to steal her groom out of jealousy. 

And my adopted mother had instantly backed her up without any hesitation.

Adrian's grandfather had insisted that the alliance proceed cause the wedding was already done with the papers signed. 

So Adrian was stuck with me.

Likewise I was stuck with a husband who would have rather married anyone else.

"We're here," Adrian said, his husky voice jolting me back to the present.

I looked up at the Darnell mansion. 

Every window was glowing, warm and welcoming—a bogus lie, just like everything else about this damned family.

My husband was out of the vehicle before I could unbuckle my seat belt, heading for the front door where Vanessa was waiting.

She was wearing a red dress that perfectly accentuated all of her bold curves and her blonde hair was curled and styled back to make her look like a movie star.

I watched her reach up to kiss Adrian on the cheek, a gesture that made him smile.

I felt a pang in my chest.

Something hot rushed up from my stomach at the sight but I pushed it down.

A sigh left my lips cause I couldn't remember the last time he had smiled at me, like actually smiled.

I climbed out of the car, bent down to tie the frayed lace of my canvas shoes, and Adrian was already inside the house by the time I straightened up.

I started toward the door and reached Vanessa waiting in the path. 

She flashed me a seemingly sweet smile that didn't reach her sharp eyes.

"Watch out, sister," she said. "What you own will soon be mine."

I could decipher the false concern dripping in her voice any time and any day.

The photo of her and Adrian on the cover of the magazine flashed before my eyes.

Rage bubbled inside of me.

Both of my palms curled into tight fists while I stared straight at her.

But I said nothing. 

I never did.

That was my biggest mistake.