Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Juliet’s pov

It had been two hours since the wedding, and I had not seen Jaxon once.

I wandered through the long, marble-tiled hallways of the De Luca villa, my fingers trailing along the cold stone walls.

A few maids passed me by, bowing their heads in quiet greetings.

“Good evening, Mrs. De Luca,” a maid said, lowering her head as she passed me with a tray.

“Good evening,” I answered, and my voice came out small, another maid greeted me the same way near the stairs, and another near the library.

I kept walking until I reached a long corridor on the east side of the house that ended in a tall double door of dark wood.

“That is Mr. De Luca’s room, Madam,” a maid had told me earlier that evening, and then she had hurried away.

We did not share a room, of course. It was an arranged marriage, built on cold signatures, and I had no wish to go inside.

I turned to walk back to my own lonely room, but then a sound stopped me dead in my tracks.

A high, feminine breathless moan echoed softly from behind the thick wooden doors.

“Ahhh—hmmm!”

Huh? I froze, my blood turning to ice. What is that?

I stepped closer, my ear almost touching the wood.

A second later, another loud, shameless moan came from inside, followed immediately by a low, guttural groan that could only belong to Jaxon.

My eyes widened in absolute horror. The air evaporated from my lungs.

What is he doing? On our wedding night? In our house?

Without thinking, I grabbed the heavy bronze handle and rattled the door furiously.

It wouldn't budge. It was locked. I slammed my palm against the wood once, twice, my breathing turning shallow and ragged.

“Open this door, Jaxon!”

The moans stopped and footsteps followed, the lock clicked.

The door swung open, and there stood Jaxon. His dark hair was disheveled, his eyes burning with pure fury, and a robe was tied loosely around his waist.

“What do you think you’re doing right now?” he demanded, his voice dropping into a harsh, warning growl.

My mouth gaped. A surge of shock and betrayal flared in my chest, hot and suffocating.

Is he really angry at me right now? It was so absurd that I almost laughed a painful one.

“I should be the one asking that,” I stammered, my voice trembling before I forced it to steady.

“What are you doing right now?”

I tried to look past his shoulder. Behind him, lying on the silk sheets of his massive bed, was a woman.

She was completely naked, frantically pulling the duvet over her chest with shaking hands.

Her hair fell over her shoulders, shading her features, but the quick glance I caught of her sharp profile told me she was no stranger to this house.

Jaxon stepped sideways, completely blocking my view, his jaw set in a hard, cruel line.

“What? How dare you come up here and ask me what I am doing?” he sneered, leaning into my space.

“That isn’t your place, do you know that? Have you forgotten what you signed? You have no right to ask whatever questions you want.”

My throat went tight, and my face burned, because the humiliation was so sharp that I could hardly breathe.

“And this?” He gestured dismissively toward the room behind him, his lip curling in contempt.

“Why do you look so shocked? This isn’t the first time.”

My stomach turned over, and I gripped the door frame to stay standing.

“Oh,” he said, and he scoffed, and a cold half smile touched his mouth.

“I forgot, you lost your memory in the meantime. You will get used to it. Now I do not want to see you, so go away.”

The words cut through me like glass.

I had woken in a hospital to people who counted what I cost them, and I had signed my life away to a man who would not say my name, and now this

A lump of pure, raw agony formed in my throat. I had just married this man two hours ago.

I was standing in a strange house, with a strange name, in a life I couldn't remember, and my husband was sleeping with another woman while the scent of our wedding flowers was still in the air.

The hurt twisted into a sudden, white-hot rage.

“You bastard!” I screamed, the tears finally spilling down my cheeks.

“You absolute, disgusting bastard! Curse you, Jaxon! Curse the day you were born!”

“It is our wedding night, you pig, and you could not even wait one night!

“Lower your voice,” he said coldly.

“I will not lower it!” I shouted, shaking so hard that my teeth knocked together.

Driven by a blind, desperate instinct to tear that arrogant look off his face, I raised my right hand to slap him.

Before my palm could make contact, his hand shot out.

He caught my wrist mid-air. His grip was so hard my bones thrashed against his fingers.

His eyes widened in sudden, dangerous shock. “How dare you raise your hand at me,” he growled loudly.

I flinched at the terrifying pitch of his voice, but before I could pull back, Jaxon slammed me violently against the cold wall of the corridor.

The back of my head hit the plaster, sending a dull ache through my healing skull.

“Argh!” I winced in pain.

He didn't let go. Instead, his hand shifted from my wrist to my throat.

His fingers clamped down hard against my windpipe, pinning me tight against the wall.

“Is this not what your family wanted?” he sneered, his face inches from mine, his blue eyes wild and venomous.

“You got it already. You got the name, you got the money, you got the villa. Don't play the innocent victim with me, Alice. You are just as much of a snake as your stepmother.”

The air stopped reaching my lungs.

I clawed at his wrist, my nails digging into his skin, fighting with everything I had to pull his hand away, but he was far too strong.

My chest caved in, my vision spotted dark, and a violent gasp choked in my throat.

Inside the bedroom, the woman on the bed began to sob loudly, “Jaxon, please, stop, you are going to kill her!” she cried. But Jaxon didn't even turn his head.

He stared down at me with cold, ruthless malice while I fought for my life under his grip.

Is this how I die, I thought, at my husband's bedroom entrance, on my wedding night, at his hand, and nobody here will even ask why?

Just as the darkness threatened to pull me under, Jaxon loosened his hand and shoved me away.

I slid down the wall, collapsing onto my knees on the cold floor.

I clutched my neck with both shaking hands, coughing violently, dragging ragged, painful gasps of air back into my lungs.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and stinging.

I looked up at him through my blurred vision, horrified, terrified, and utterly broken.

“Is this... how I lived in this house?” I choked out, my voice raspy and destroyed.

“I caught you... having an affair on our wedding night... and you choked me?”

Jaxon stood over me, watching me struggle for breath. He scoffed, a hollow, bitter sound, and straightened the lapels of his robe.

He folded his arms, looking down at me as if I were nothing more than dirt on his expensive shoes. A small, cruel smirk touched the corner of his lips.

“You know what? Let’s go ahead,” he said, his voice terrifyingly calm now, as though he hadn't just almost killed me with his bare hands.

“We should have the open marriage, as you had suggested before your accident.”

I froze on the floor, my hand still gripping my bruised throat.

My eyes widened in total disbelief.

“Open marriage?!”