3. Divorce Papers
1434 Words
I dream of four men, all devastatingly gorgeous. They imprint their names in my brain, just as they have left their marks on my body. They tell me they are princes and brothers. They tell me that they own me.
“We will come for you by solstice to collect our end of the bargain, and you will not refuse us,” the dark eyed man tells me, before the world goes black.
That was three days ago. I would have loved to believe that it was all some terrible dream, if I hadn’t awoken in my father’s home. If he hadn’t told me that it was a miracle that they found me alive. Without a single scratch, even if I was covered in blood.
I would have let my brain convince me that it was a bad dream if there aren’t marks on my body. Four crescent shaped scars that look like tattoos. Two on either of my wrists. One on my neck. One over my heart.
A knock on my door distracts me from my research of kings in Ohio, even if I know there is no such thing. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Clutching my robe around me, I walk to the door and pull it open. Grey eyes meet mine and I hurl the door shut. Or try to. Alexander wedges his foot between the door and its frame. “Scarlett, please.”
It is the sheer audacity of this man for me. How could he show up here, after everything? “Leave. We have nothing to talk about.”
“Your father told me about the accident. I had to come see you.”
“Why?” I seethe. “To come check if your plan failed and if I’m really alive?”
Alexander pushes the door open. “What the f**k are you talking about? I was worried sick out of my mind. I left everything, cleared my schedule to be here, drove like a mad man—”
“Shall I be grateful to you—”
He goes on like I never even interrupted him. “—and you’re…what the hell are you even trying to say to me? That I somehow caused your accident?”
I sneer. “If the shoe f*****g fits. My brakes were sabotaged. Did you pay Allistair to do it? You wanted to be with Bel and you would kill me to make that happen?”
He pauses at the threshold, staring at me with disbelief. “Bel was right. You’ve gone mad.” He peers down and only then do I see the brown envelope in his hand. “I was wrong, to keep you in the dark about me and Bel, but I love her and she’s pregnant with my child.” He extends the envelope to me, not quite meeting my gaze. “This is for the best. It’s not like you could give me a child anyway.”
My heart slows as I open the envelope and peer at the divorce papers. He’s already signed them. I fold them and hurl it at him. “You’re a f*****g bastard. You’re taking everything? I worked my ass off to make you into who you are today—”
He picks them and has the nerve to plead with me with his eyes. “And I’ve repaid the favor, have I not? The trips? The gifts? My time? I gave you everything I had, Scarlett. If I’m to start a family with Bel, I need this. You understand, don’t you?”
I stare at him, aghast. He’s asking for my understanding? “Did your precious Bel tell you about the surprise I had planned?” When confusion creeps into his eyes, I laugh. I lean into his space, forcing my hand up to his cheek. The crescent on my right wrist seem to move, glaring at me with an invisible eye. I ignore it and stroke his cheek softly. “I was pregnant with your child too, Xan, and I lost it, because of you. For three days, I wondered how I would repay the favor. Make you hurt in the worst ways possible. Take those damned papers and leave my house, but know that I’ll come back. I’ll take everything from the both of you. You will hurt. You will crawl. You will plead, and it won’t be enough. You’ll lose everything, Xan. I promise.”
Something flashes briefly in his eyes. Fear. He turns and leaves abruptly, like a man being chased by demons. Maybe I’m the demon. I shut the door and resume my search, this time researching something different. When is solstice?
In a month.
*************
Two months later…
They didn’t come for me. It’s been over a month, and I’ve been agitated, looking over my shoulder every day for four men in suits. The marks on my skin seem to move on some days, watching me, and just because I can, I cover them up with makeup.
News of my broken marriage hits the tabloids like a maelstrom, followed by the news of Alexander and Isabel’s wedding. I’ve been invited to several interviews, all of which I turned down. I haven’t exactly been out in public for some time now. Grace has sent several messages. I don’t read them. I don’t speak to people anymore. My father thinks I’m depressed. I think I need some time alone.
Apparently, two months is more than enough time to spend alone. He’s begun fixing me up with eligible bachelors, stupid blind dates that irk me so bad. Like now. I’m reading through the files of my date tonight, scowling at the perfect details. “Really, Papa?” I mutter, almost impressed. I’m meeting with a Lorenzo Ravenna. He looks like a freaking Italian Prince.
The elevator stops, the metal doors parting, just as my phone beeps with a notification. Frowning, I open it. An unknown number texts me, “Be down in five. Don’t make us wait too long.”
My heart plummets and I run out of the elevator, looking around. Just a fancy ass restaurant, with people laughing and eating. My date is at the left corner, by the ceiling to floor window, checking his watch and looking around. His eyes land on me and he smiles, waving me over.
I ignore him, still searching for the four men I’ve dreamt about constantly. I don’t find them, and I stare at the message again. It has to be a spam message. I just got this phone last week. There’s no way they’d have this number.
Forcing in deep breaths, I make my way over to the table. Mr. Ravenna rises and starts to speak to me when his eyes lock onto something behind me. His confident smile falters and he stumbles back by a step. “Excuse me.”
“Excuse you?” I repeat, but he’s all but bolting towards the entrance, leaving me gaping at him. What the hell?
I turn to see what could have scared off six foot of pure muscle away, and I scream, falling back on my ass. “Y-you’re here,” I whisper. It’s just one man, but I recognize those black eyes. They narrow at me, obviously displeased. “I am.”
Riordan. He’s Riordan. He scratches the back of his neck. “Get off the floor, Ms. Montgomery. You’re embarrassing me.”
Did I, at any point while I was dying tell him my father’s last name? I push off the floor, pulling down the edge of my skimpy gown past my thigh. Riordan scowls at my gown, but he says nothing. “Come, the rest are in the car.”
He doesn’t wait for me before trudging down the large hall. Everyone in his path moves away swiftly, as if sensing the danger rolling off him. He doesn’t seem to notice that, or the women ogling him. I practically have to run to catch up. “Wait. You don’t just show up and demand that I come with you—”
His eyes narrow to slits. “I can. I own you. Get in the elevator.”
“Why should I? You ran me over! I almost died—”
“But you’re alive, aren’t you?” His voice is cool, almost annoyed and his fingers are suddenly around my waist, pushing me into the elevator. “While I’d love to keep arguing with you, there isn’t much time left to complete the mating ritual.”
I blink, confused. “Mating ritual?”
- Writer
