Page 31 of Property of Lucian

The Black Wedding

Lucian

I wasn’t a saint, I was far from it. I knew that, yet here I was about to make a life-defining moment with a woman who was as tainted as me. What she didn’t know was that I was a monster. For a long time, I used to fight the need to be ruthless, I used to be ashamed of the monster that was within me and the fact I had no heart or soul.

I killed. I fucked. I moved on. That was the pattern. The only good thing about me was Massie. Hell, she was the only good thing that had come from me. But as I watched Haylee move towards me, knowing she knew what she was about to do sent a rush through my body. Perhaps there would be two good things that came from me.

I could save her from the life she was living. I could save her from the wrath of this criminal world. The never dying need to always look over her shoulder . . .. I could take that feeling from her. But at the same time, I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing. To be honest with myself, I was claiming her because I knew she could deal with this world.

She had proved to me that she would protect my child. She had proved that she would always put me first.

But as I took her hand and the crowd formed around us, I knew she wouldn’t remember this coming morning. I fought the urge to put my finger down her throat because I wanted her to remember this moment—the moment we became one.

The property mark on hand proved again to me that she was the right woman for this. Angeline was never it, but Haylee . . . she had unbreakable strength.

Holding her hand, I commited my soul and body to protect her and slipped the ring onto her finger.

I was expecting to see regret on her face, but there wasn’t any. Instead, she said the vows back to me and slipped the ring onto my finger.

“Forever or never, till the last breath escapes my lungs. I am yours,” she swore, and I was proud she had remembered the lines so well. But I didn’t expect the overwhelming need to kiss her after hearing them come from her lips.

I had heard women pledge to men before. Hell, I normally ministered the ceremonies. But I never expected those words to affect me—not like they did as they left her lips.

Normally, we were expected to stay for the party but in this case, I was the overseer. I wanted her, needed to her, and as soon as we signed the piece of paper, I flung her and the black dress she was wearing over my shoulder, taking her back to my room.

There was cheers and laughter, but the glare from Dash for breaking the rules was also noted. I didn’t care. My interest was in my woman, and for the first time, I was going to give back to Haylee instead of taking from her.

“Aren’t we meant to celebrate?” She giggled when I placed her back on her feet.

“Oh, we are celebrating.” I grinned and leant in closer to her ear. “My style.”

I heard her sharp inhale.

“What do you suggest?” Her hand ran down my chest and those beautiful eyes locked with mine. “How do you want me?”

I smirked always so ready to please. “I’ve actually got another idea.” And I pulled out a phone from my back pocket. “I want to give back to you, so let’s play twenty questions.”

She frowned but took the phone. “Twenty questions on our wedding night?”

“We can have sex any night, but I am giving you one night to get answers out of me.” I kissed her cheek. “You can ask anything, and I’ll answer. Just don’t expect to ever get raw honest answers from me again.”

Her frown deepened, even fell slightly. “I wish I would be able to remember them come morning.”

“That’s what the phone is for,” I replied. “I’m letting you record it—consider that your gift from me.”

She looked at me with disbelief. “You’re giving me my memories back? You and I both know that’s against the rules.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” I went and sat on my couch in room while she set the phone up. We were no longer in the hotel room.

“Ready, husband?” She grinned after setting up the phone. I wasn’t ready for that—I really wasn’t ready for that line. I nodded my head, feeling fucking nervous.

I had really thrown myself under the bus. She could ask anything, and I had agreed to answer. What if she asked me about my childhood or asked how I got into this way of life?

Okay, this was a fucking bad idea!

“Favourite colour.” She grinned after hitting the record button.

My expression showed my utter surprise by her light-hearted question. She could ask anything, and she asked what my favourite colour was?

“Black.”

“Not a colour, but okay.”

And so began the twenty questions . . ..

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