His Mail Order Bride

Chapter 11

The ride to Devon's house is awfully quiet. Emma stares out of the window the entire time, headphones in her ears as the driver drives along. Though she looked calm on the outside, I could tell how tense she was coming along with me. The hands tightening on her jeans was a dead giveaway. I bit my already sore lips, letting out a sigh. Houses zip by us as the car drives along and my stomach twists painfully. I should not have done this, I repeat to myself over again... But, what was I supposed to do?

Bringing out my phone, I went to my email and read the last message that was sent, and my breath caught in my chest. My driver will come to pick you up, it read. I can see my hands shaking and I quickly take deep breaths to calm myself. It has already happened, I might as well deal with it. It's already late and dark purple streaks are lining the evening sky.

We finally arrived at a residential area of some sort and there was a quick change in scenery. Huge homes lined the streets, all expensive looking.  I glance at Emma and she had turned pale, fear etching her features. Guilt washes over me at the sight.

"How close are we?" I asked the driver in a bid to dispel the tense air.

"Almost there, ma'am." He replies as he concentrates on the road. I reach for Emma's hands and thankfully she doesn't push them away. Squeezing them softly, I let out a smile.

"It's going to be okay. I'll protect you, I promise." I whisper to her. She doesn't say anything, just stares at me and looks away. I continued squeezing her hands, watching as she relaxes slightly. It's not a lot but it relaxes me as well.

We finally arrive at his home and the gates electronically open on our arrival. The driver drives the car to the garage where I see two cars of the same model parked, all black with tinted glasses. Cars must not be his favorite thing. The house was a separate story, however. It was a house a fit for a billionaire. The car is parked and the driver stops the engine.

"Do leave your boxes behind, I'll bring them inside." The driver says to us as we step out of the car. "My boss is waiting for you inside."

He's home? My heart begins to pound. Emma stares at me, a frightened look on her face and I purse my lips. "Thanks," I mutter to the driver and start to walk ahead, Emma not far behind me. We enter the house and I am taken aback at how warm it felt.  It looks nothing like the Billionaire houses I'm familiar with, who bought houses just so they could have a place to sleep and were needlessly sleek and modern.

This place looked lived in. It had an open floor plan with warm lighting filling the entire floor, wooden flooring, and house plants everywhere. There was a huge fish tank in the middle of the room and a section of the room was set aside as a reading nook, with dogeared books that looked like they'd been read over and over again. And let's not talk about the kitchen. That was bigger than our current apartment. Tall ceilings gave the living room an airy feel and tan colors made it brighter. The stairs had a sturdy railing and painting filled the walls for some weird reasons, there were no sharp edges in the interior design, it was all rounded in. One thing is for sure, it was unlike anything I'd seen.