Married To The Devil

Chapter Four

I am really, really sorry for the late update. I just hope you guys hadn't lost interest in this story *smiles sheepishly*. Sorry again and well, yeah, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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D e v i l ' s R i n g

Sold.

The word kept playing in my head like a broken record. I mean, every time I heard it, I imagined myself as still as a porcelain menikin with a pricetag hanging from one finger with my price on it, and a velvet jewerly box sitting in the other hand's palm with a wedding ring in it.

That was pretty . . . unsettling if you asked me.

"Can't we, um, get a . . . divorce?" I asked Damon and watched the crooked smile fall off of his face.

He gave me an are-you-serious look before asking, "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!"

Damon shrugged and turned away from me, walking towards the bed and flopping down casually on the mattress. "If you're sure you want a divorce, then yes, we can get one."

I was taken aback, to say the least. But trying to keep an indifferent look on my face, I stared right into Damon's eyes to detect any traces of lying or messing around. Trust me, there was nothing there but a dead serious look.

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes, Clara," he said, a smile spreading over his face, "but that means your mom should give me my ten million dollars back. I mean," he scoffed, "I didn't find those on the street. I earned them."

I knew it!

"Can you be any more insensitive?" I asked, keeping on a calm demeanor while on the inside a part of me was screaming with frustration, while another part was glad I wouldn't have to get a divorce and go back to my mother. "You don't have to make it that clear that I'm nothing but an object to you. Not much more significant than the next Rolex you'd buy."

Damon raised an eyebrow at me. "Who said that?"

"You did."

"No!" He laughed humorlessly. "I mean, okay you're more valuable than a Rolex but maybe not a Lamborghini."

Seeing the dull look in my eyes, Damon sat up on the bed and chuckled, "You shouldn't take everything I say seriously, Clara." He got up and headed to the door.

"What's that supposed to mean?" There were too many thoughts swirling around my head like a hurricane and what he said could mean anything of those. I remembered when Xavier said, he only chose you out of many. There's a reason behind his choice.

Damon paused at the door and didn't even look at me as he said, "It means whatever you want it to mean."

Oh, great! That was really helpful, wasn't it? If he could only tell me his purpose for choosing me out of hundreds, maybe thousands, I would at least fulfill my purpose and set him and myself free.

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"Oh my God," I laughed. "How old are you, eleven?"

Now that I've asked, even though it is a playful question, I never actually knew how old Damon was. I didn't really suppose he's any older than twenty-six, is he?

"No, but you're such a killjoy." Damon peered out from the tree we were hiding behind. "So just watch and learn."

Just when we reached our unknown destination, which turned out to be London, Damon didn't want to take a nap or get some rest from the flight all the way here. He changed into a casual outfit and made me do so as well and we hit the street. The suggestion that he made as his idea of 'fun' made me double over laughing. I thought he was joking around but he was dead serious.