Keeping his bride

Verona

DANTE FOLLOWS CLOSELY behind me as I walk around the mall from store to store. Luca gave me his black credit card and told me to get whatever I needed that he didn’t already buy. I don’t get him. One minute he’s a monster; the next he’s trying to do something nice. It’s like he can’t make up his mind on whether he wants to hate me or not. Although, today, I swear he just wanted me out of the house for a while. We’ve barely spoken to each other for the past week or so since the night I slapped him in the face.

And while I admit it felt good to slap him, I regret doing it. Luca obviously harbors a lot of ill will towards my father, but I would too if I thought someone killed my mother. He has every reason in the world to hate the person who murdered his mother, but he’s putting his anger on the wrong person, because my father didn’t do it. I know deep down within my very soul that my father is innocent in all of this. If only I could prove it to him somehow.

“If I were you, I would max the credit card out on shit you don’t even need just to spite him,” Dante says, breaking me out of my thoughts. “We could even throw some of the stuff in the dumpsters behind the mall,” he suggests, and I can hear the contempt in his voice. His hatred towards Luca is evident, but he tries his best to hide it from everyone but me.

“You know I wouldn’t do that even if I wanted to,” I tell him. I’m not like that. I know how hard people work for their money, and I know what it’s like to live without the finer things in life. And even though Luca doesn’t exactly do anything aboveboard, I don’t want to waste his money. Besides, I’m not into spending blood money either.

I don’t know much about Luca’s business other than the few things I’ve heard the men in the house mention. Dante assures me Luca is the worst man on the planet, and maybe he is. Maybe I did marry a monster. He certainly acts like that sometimes.

But it isn’t as if I had a choice in all of this. And it’s not like we can just get divorced. I’m locked into this contract, this marriage, whether I like it or not. All I can do is try to make our relationship better over time, if that’s even possible.

Sometimes it just feels like Luca can’t stand the sight of me. I’m really at a loss for what I can do to make my time with him more tolerable. I try to stay out of his way, but out of sight, out of mind doesn’t really work with him because he’s so controlling and demanding.

He doesn’t want to see me, and yet he wants to keep tabs on me all the time and know where I am at all hours of the day. It’s so confusing.

Speaking of the devil, Dante’s phone begins to ring, and he’s quick to answer. “We’re still at the mall,” he says with an eye roll.

I can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but I know it’s Luca on the other end, asking for another update.

He’s called three times already, and we’ve only been gone for a couple of hours.

Dante hangs up the phone and shakes his head.

“Controlling son of a bitch, isn’t he?”

“I wish I could run away,” I blurt out. I don’t think I was even meaning to say it out loud, but it’s too late to take it back now.

Dante’s eyes meet mine, and in all seriousness, he tells me, “Then let’s do it.”

I shake my head. “He would find us.”

“I would make sure he never did,” he says so calmly and assuredly that it scares me.

While the idea of escaping my husband is both thrilling and exciting, I know it wouldn’t end well. And if Dante helped me run away, I’m sure he would have to face the consequences. And if anything happened to my best friend, my only friend, I don’t know what I would do.

“I’m just venting,” I tell him, hoping that he believes me.

“You can always talk to me about anything, V,” Dante assures me.

“I know. You’re my best friend,” I tell him with a smile. I point over to a store that sells household goods and gifts, and I say, “Let’s go in there.”

“Whatever you say,” he says, following behind me.

Luca

D

ANTE AND VERONA return from their shopping trip late in the evening. I wouldn’t be surprised if she maxed out my credit card today. In fact, I’m anxious to see exactly how much she spent and at what stores. I know I already bought her enough clothes to last a lifetime, but I guess it wasn’t enough for the princess. She needed more, more clothes, more material things to make her happy.

I shake my head as I watch them on the surveillance video getting out of the car. I expect them to start unloading shopping bag after shopping bag, but I’m blown away when Verona only appears with one bag before they walk to the garage door that connects to the house.

Confused, I click out of the surveillance video and look up the credit card charges on that particular card. Only one charge is on it…for forty dollars.

“Forty dollars?” I ask out loud. What the fuck?

I refresh the page, thinking I’m missing other charges, but nothing appears. Maybe the rest of the transactions didn’t go through yet, but I know that’s simply not the case.

She spent all day shopping and only spent forty dollars of my money. And I can’t help but wonder what the fuck she bought for herself.

There’s a timid knock on my office door, and I hit a button to unlock it. Verona opens the door and stands in the doorway, looking shy and innocent. The monster in me rears its ugly head, wanting to pounce on her and force answers out of her. I want to know why she was gone for so long today if she only spent forty dollars on a single thing.

The bag is in her hand. I don’t recognize the logo, but there are a lot of stores in the mall that I’ve never been in before.

“Are you busy?” she asks softly.

“No,” I snap, causing her to wince at my tone. My frustration is getting the better of me, and so I try to calm down a little before telling her, “Come in.”

She walks forward until she reaches my desk, and then she places the bag in front of me. “Here,” she says.

I cock a brow at her. “What is this?”NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

“It’s a gift.”

“A gift?” I ask, confused. “A gift for who?” I demand.

“For you,” she says with a grin.

Oh, so I’m amusing her. That’s just great. I stare down at the bag, a frown on my face. “What is it?”

“You have to open it to find out,” she says, her grin widening.

This whole situation is hilarious to her, but I’m finding it hard to see the humor in it all. She spent forty dollars…on me? That just doesn’t make sense. She had a card with an unspeakable line of credit on it, and she used it on a purchase for me. What the fuck game is she playing at?

“I told you to buy yourself something,” I tell her, my voice laced with anger.

She lifts her chin a little in defiance. “I didn’t see anything I liked,” she says, but I don’t believe her. There are a lot of high-end stores in that mall and surrounding areas. I don’t believe that she couldn’t find at least one thing that she wanted or needed. Most women would have bought one of everything in the mall and not even blinked an eye.

“Open it,” she prompts, shifting her weight from one foot to the next. She’s nervous. Maybe she’s afraid I won’t like what she bought me?

“Fine,” I scoff, grabbing the bag. I pull out the box inside and toss the bag aside. I read the front of the box out loud, “Zen Garden.”

A bright smile is on her face as she nods

enthusiastically. “It’s supposed to be a stress reliever.”

“You bought me…a Zen Garden.” I shake my head, not even knowing what to say.

A frown mars her pretty face. “I’m sorry. I thought -.”

“You thought what, Verona? You thought I would like to rake sand all day while I have more important things to do with my life?”

Tears form in her honey-colored eyes. “You could have just said thank you. That’s what normal people do!” she shouts before turning and storming out of my office.

Pissed off, I stare down at the box. I scoop it up, ready to throw it in the trash, but I stop myself at the last second. Verona bought this for me. She wanted me to have this. She thought I would like it, I suppose. I think maybe deep down I just hate the fact that she thinks she has me all figured out when I can’t even seem to figure her out one bit.

I always prided myself on the ability to read people. First impressions are important, and most of the time my life depends on me being able to sense what a person’s true intentions are within the first few seconds of meeting them.

But when it comes to Verona, I just can’t make sense of it all. And believe me, I have tried.

There’s a missing piece of the puzzle when it comes to her. And just when I think I have the last piece I need, I realize it doesn’t fit and that I have to start the whole thing all over again. It’s infuriating, to say the least.

I want to understand her. I want to know what makes her tick. And ultimately, I want to use it against her.

I’ve always known my biggest foes greatest weaknesses and then used that knowledge in the best most possible way against them.

Could it be that I’ve been wrong about Verona this whole time?

No, I tell myself. Impossible. I’m never wrong about anyone.

But in the back of my mind I can’t help but think that there’s always a first time for everything.