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3 | Clara Saint

"𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭..."

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞

A smile graced my lips as I discreetly retrieved a hundred-dollar bill from my bra, passing it to Annie, the maid. "Thank you, Annie," I whispered, and she winked at me before retreating to the kitchen. I heard movement behind me and turned to see Vincent exiting the room.

"Are you fucking serious? You paid her to drop the food on me?" He growls angrily, a smile graces my lips.

"I suggest you fix your tone with me Mr Kovak." He steps forward, and my foot takes a step back for me until my back collided against the wall-oh what a cliche. He takes out his gun and presses it just beneath my jaw, "you don't scare me Vincent." I whisper, "in fact-I think I'm-turned on."

His eyes darkened, and they travel down to my lips.

"Are you Vincent?" My hands slowly travel down to his belt buckle, and I pull him closer against me. "Are you imagining the gun as your cock again...?"

Men have always been so easy to unravel, in fact I think I've quiet grown accustomed to Vincent.

"I'm imagining you bleeding just beneath my feet Clara, deciding on what colour your blood will most likely be...burgundy, rouge, scarlet."

I gulp slightly, I'm not going to act like I'm not slightly afraid- I've heard the stories, the names he's been called. I know he isn't lying. And the only thing stopping him is my father, otherwise I'd be dead like everyone else.

"Oh don't be scared love, we're going to be family soon-get used to it." He steps away, his back facing me as he tucks the gun under the back of his blazer.

I decided to head downstairs and join the rest of the family at the dining table, where everyone was now sipping wine.

"Did you manage to find him a shirt?" My father inquired.

"Yeah, it might be a bit tight, but it should do." I replied before taking my seat next to Roman. I turned to him with a polite smile. "Would you like a tour of the garden?" I offered. Roman nodded, standing up and extending his arm to me. As we passed by Vincent, I couldn't help but catch a whiff of his enticing cologne.

We ventured into the garden, and a maid approached us with glasses of red wine.

"You enjoy red wine?" Roman asked.

"Yes, it reminds me of blood, doesn't it?" I teased. He raised an eyebrow, and I chuckled. "Just joking, Roman."

"I understand you didn't have a choice in selecting your husband, but know that I'll do my best to make sure you're happy," Roman earnestly expressed.

He was a sweet man, and I couldn't help but appreciate his sincerity. However, deep down, I knew that my heart wouldn't easily warm to him. He was too innocent, too fragile for someone like me. But I had a role to play, a duty to fulfill.

"I appreciate your assurance, Roman," I responded, taking a sip of the wine as we settled on stools in the patio area. "I understand I wasn't your first choice, neither of us thought that my sister would pass-which was why my father was very intent on me marrying you."

Roman looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

I bit my lip, realizing I was about to reveal something I probably shouldn't have. "Well, your brother is very powerful, and so is my father. Together, they became... you know, it's good for business."