Chapter Text
You stared at your husband, noting the tightening of his jaw, the way his beautiful face glared back at you with utter disdain. His dark eyes brimmed with hate and condescension, ready to eviscerate you at any moment. He was dressed in jeans, an olive knit top and a leather jacket - not a tux or suit - because this may have been his wedding day but that certainly didn’t mean he was going to put in any fucking effort. Of course his casual outfit didn’t deter from his good looks. Dark hair slicked back, darker eyes, and a chiseled face that made him look like devil himself. He was one of the richest bachelors in the country and the eldest son of a prominent New York family, so he could have had anybody – but it was you who was marrying him and he wasn’t happy about it. No, he was fucking pissed and everyone attending the ceremony saw it. But you didn’t care. What he felt didn’t matter, because he was your ticket out.
“Do you, William Russo, take Y/N to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?”
Billy didn’t respond, and a stunned silence fell across the room. With every second that passed, the tension in the room grew. It seemed to you like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for him to say no and make his escape. You kept your face blank, but cast his grandfather a quick glance. The old man may have looked deceptively frail sitting in his wheelchair, but you saw his steely gaze, mirroring the man across from you, and knew instinctively there was no way anyone would defy the head of the family. To do so would mean losing all of the wealth and privilege afforded by the Russo name and your soon-to-be-husband was much too smart to give it all up.
“Sure.”
Not ‘yes’, not ‘I do’, but ‘sure’. A lazy, insolent drawl of a response. So very much like him. And it would’ve made you snicker if you weren’t required to put on an act for everyone.
The officiant turned to you, and repeated the same question.
It was your turn to pause. For a moment sheer panic surged through you. What the fuck were you doing? Is this really what you wanted? To tie yourself down to the kind of guy you absolutely loathed?
“Why me?” You asked, wondering once again.
Alistair Russo, Billy’s grandfather, had made the offer a week ago with a deadline of today to get back to him. True to his word, the man was now sitting in your office after waiting several hours for you to get out of a surgery you’d been performing.
“You saved my life. And this is how I repay that debt.”
You quirked your eyebrow. “Saving you was my job. I would’ve done that for anybody.”
“But I’m not just anybody, and I don’t like being in people’s debt.”
You exhaled a long breath, leaning back in your chair. You’d been in surgery for more than 7 hours. You were tired and desperately needed some sleep. All you wanted was to crawl into bed but you couldn’t because you still had several hours left on your shift. And now here was this rich, old fuck back to tempt you with an insane plan that had already kept you awake for too many days. “Fine. Pay off my student debt and we’ll call it even.”
The old man gave you a condescending smile. “That’s not how this works.”
You smiled back. “So it’s not really about being grateful, is it? There’s a reason you want me to marry your grandson so why don’t you just spill it.”
Alistair cocked his eyebrow, his expression cold. “This marriage is meant to be a consequence of his actions.”
“In other words, punishment.”
“Something like that. My grandson has a brilliant mind but he’s too busy cavorting with leeches to make something of himself. He was given many chances in the past to rectify his behaviour but now we’ve reached the stage where this can no longer continue. He needs to take responsibility for his actions.”
“So why not marry him off to one of your society people? I’m sure there are plenty of women who would love to get with him.”
“Billy is a charmer, Ms. Y/N. He’s also a master manipulator. I need someone brilliant who won’t fall for his charms.”
Ah, false praise. it was obvious where Billy learned his tactics from. “You still haven’t answered my question, Mr. Russo. You could get anyone to help you with this plan, but you came to me specifically. Why?”
There was a short pause, as if Alistair was contemplating his words carefully. “As I said, this marriage is meant to be a punishment, not a reward. You are not the kind of woman he’s normally seen with.”
You smirked. There it was. “I’m not his type. And this marriage is intended to embarrass him.”
Alistair cleared his throat, seemingly uncomfortable with your abrasive assessment. “This is not meant to be a lifelong commitment. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. All you have to do is stay married to him for a period of three years, and after that you’ll both be granted a divorce. I will pay off all of your debt, and after the termination of the marriage you will receive a lump sum of $5 Million.”
“10 Million,” you countered.
Alistair quirked his eyebrow. “That is a lot of money, especially considering the benefits you would already be receiving You would be married to someone handsome and wealthy, with no need to work.”
You learned forward, balancing your elbows on your desk. “Maybe not in the hospital anymore, but I would still be working. Your Billy sounds like a massive pain in the ass and I’m guessing it’s not going to be easy to keep him in check. Because that’s essentially why you’re hiring me, isn’t it? To control him and make him the man you want him to be.”
“I have no such expectations from you, Ms. Y/N. You will never wield that much power over my grandson.” Alistair’s voice was filled with cold disdain. “You have over $500,000 in debt. While you make a decent income, it’ll take you years to pay it off. I gather your plan is to stay in this hospital so you can benefit from the loan forgiveness program but that will take ten years and from what I can see, this is not an environment you enjoy working in.”
Bastard. He had honed in on your exact weakness. What you really wanted was to work in poor communities like the one you had grown up in where there was a desperate need for good care, but your debt prevented you from being able to pursue what made you happy. Instead you were stuck working in a hospital with a toxic work environment where leadership only cared about revenue, and it was sucking the soul out of you.
“While I won’t offer you $10 Million, I will do something else. I understand your brother’s business is failing. If you agree to this offer, I will ensure there is an influx of cash into his business. That should keep him out of trouble for the next little while.”
You took a deep breath. “He can’t know the money is connected to me. He won’t accept it.”
“And my grandson can not know this marriage comes with an expiry date.”
You ran your fingers through his hair. “Understood.”
Alistair Russo finally smiled, and it was not a pleasant one. A cold shiver ran through you, like you’d just made a deal with the devil. “And just in case you start dreaming about a lifelong marriage with Billy and tying yourself to my family permanently, please remember I will destroy your career, any chances of you ever working anywhere in this continent, and I will end you and your brother. Are we clear?”
“We’re clear.”
It was Billy’s tight squeeze of your hand that brought you out of your reverie. You took a quick glace around the room. There was only Billy’s immediate family and three of your friends in attendance. No one wanted this marriage, not even you, but you had to play the part.
“Should I ask again?” the officiant asked.
“I do,” you replied in a loud voice, sounding much more confident than you felt.
Billy shot you a look of disgust before returning his attention back to the officiant. While the rest of the ceremony passed in a whirl, you kept your mind on what mattered the most. You. You were doing this for yourself and for your future, fuck everyone else.
***
You made your escape to the honeymoon suite while the party was on full swing in the reception area. Today had been a long day after a series of long weeks and all you wanted was to sleep. Working the crazy hours you did meant no time to unwind or disconnect, it was always go, go, go and just for a little while you wanted to sit and breathe and not think about the choices you made and what it meant for everyone. You just wanted to breathe.
Today was your wedding day, something most women dreamed of, but to you it meant nothing. It was simply a means to an end. And you didn’t even have a choice about the date, it was what Alistair picked after you and him had come to an agreement and signed the proper documents. Hell, you didn’t even know how he’d conned Billy into the marriage. You met the man twice before today, and both times he’d looked at you like you were nothing. He had a taste for tall, slim, beautiful women, like most of the world, but you were the farthest thing from that. You were short, curvy, more cute than pretty, and you were fine with that. But seeing the look on Billy’s face today when you walked down the aisle in the last-minute white dress you purchased, it was clear he wasn’t.
Whatever. That was his problem. You just had to suck it up for three years and then you were free.
You strode over to where the champagne bottle was stored and poured yourself a glass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the taste as the liquid washed down your throat. It was fucking heaven. Probably the best champagne you ever tasted.
“You made the biggest mistake of your life tonight.”
You whirled around at the sound of a stranger’s voice, only to see that it was Billy standing a few feet away. His leather jacket was now gone, bringing attention to the way the knit jersey moulded over the lean muscles of his arms. He was tall, too tall, not at all your regular type.
Sighing, you took a sip from your flute. “Have I?”
“You think you can fuck up my life and get out of it unscathed?” The threat on his voice was palpable, his dark eyes growing more wild as he approached you.
For the first time you felt dread in his presence, a tight ball of fear slowly unfurling in your stomach with every step he took towards you. But you were a fighter, always had been, and you knew showing fear was inviting death. Jutting out your chin defiantly, you glared back at him. “This is a marriage, not a prison sentence.”
“It’ll feel much worse than prison by the time I’m done with you.”
“Don’t know why you’re pissed at me. Your grandfather wanted this, Billy,” you reminded him.
“You didn’t have to say yes.”
“And turn down my chance at marrying the William Russo?” Taking on a melodramatic tone, you pressed your other hand to your chest. “Impossible.”
He closed in on you, removing every inch of personal space as his hand wrapped around your throat. Panic surged through you but you reminded yourself to stay calm. You still had the champagne flute in your hand. If he made a move, you wouldn’t hesitate to smash it on his head. “I’ll make you regret every fucking minute you spend with me.” His voice was a hoarse growl, dangerous, meant to frighten you. And it did. He frightened you, even more so when he applied pressure to your throat.
Growing up the way you did, being attacked wasn’t new. The neighbourhoods were rough, there were always gang wars going on and while you tried your best to stay out of it, inevitably the wrong people would be pissed off and there would be fights. Which meant you had learned to control your fear a long time ago.
In an instant you shattered the flute against the table behind you and held the remaining jagged figure to the corner of his neck. A piece cut into his skin but you maintained careful control not to dig it in too much. “Two can play at this game, Russo. Hurt me, and I’ll destroy your pretty face.”
He didn’t back off, but the pressure around your throat loosened. For the longest time he simply stared down at you, as if burning your face into his mind. You wondered what he was thinking, planning, but his expression was blank and completely impossible to decipher.
The same hand that was clutching your throat now moved up your neck, and you swallowed an audible breath when his thumb roughly wiped the red lipstick off your lips. “A pig in makeup is still a pig.”
His words were meant to hurt you and destroy your confidence. Except you found yourself breaking into sudden laughter. You couldn’t help it. It was hilarious. He backed off right away, staring at you with a curious expression as you giggled and struggled to catch your breath.
The audacity of men, they were all the same. Threaten them and they always went after women’s looks, as if being insulted for your looks was the worst thing imaginable.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you high on something?” Billy asked, his forehead furrowed with concern.
Placing the half-broken flute on the table, you shrugged your shoulders. “No, Billy. I’m not.” You tipped your head to the side, staring up at him with a smile on your face. “You think insulting me is going to hurt me? I’ll go running because you called me a pig? That’s not how this works, Billy. You and me, we’re married.” It was your turn to close the gap between you two. “Committed to each other. Legally. Because that’s what your grandfather wanted. And that means I’m here to stay.” You’re not sure what possessed you to do it, but you stood on your tip-toes and reached up to grasp his face, pulling him down so his lips were merely an inch away from yours. Your same lips he bruised pressed against his while you kept your eyes firmly on him, making sure to stain his face with the lipstick the way he did you. “Our fates are tied now, husband. There’s no getting out.”
Billy watched you intently, his eyes fixed on you with an unwavering gaze designed to intimidate you. “If I go down, so will you. And you’re the one who has everything to lose in this fight.”
A slow smile spread across your lips, and you noticed how his eyes followed that smile, the way he smoldered at you even as he tried to figure you out. “Bring it on, husband,” you murmured, loosening your grip on him.
He stood still, his gaze piercing through you, not moving away. And then suddenly he jerked back, as if finally realizing there was nothing physically connecting the two of you and he really was free to walk away. Turning his back to you, he stormed out of the suite and slammed the door behind him.
Chuckling, you started cleaning up the broken pieces of glass.
To be continued...
A/N - Um, yeah, so thoughts?