The First Spark

|| Elizabeth ||

My tender eyes were sore because of countless hours of crying. I just sat on the bed in my room and buried my gaze in the ground. My heart skipped as I wondered what my fate was. Will Cross string me up to the ceiling and torture me to death? If he never survives my stab, what will his men do to me? Probably, they will shoot me to death and go after my mom, too.

I got up from the bed and paced around the room. The sharp sound of the wheezing fan kept distracting my thoughts. As I saw the doorknob move, my heart skipped, and fear paralysed me. For almost four seconds, I couldn't blink or move. The door was pushed open and then, like an angel of death, Cross walked slowly into the room.

He was bare-chested with tattoo drawings over his upper chest. I lifted my gaze to his face, but it was blank and expressionless. Then, my eyes rested on his stomach. There was a bandage around his lower abdomen, and somehow, I felt a pang of guilt.

“Elizabeth,” He chuckled and pulled out a Cuban and stuck it in his mouth, he torched it with a lighter and dragged it, “I would say you have the Hendricks blood in you. Your father made his first kill when he was sixteen in one of the slums in West Phil”.

As he approached me, I stepped backward. How was he this calm? He was staring at the girl who almost killed him, and yet, he was unbothered.

“If you had gone an inch deeper, I would have died. You are more like your father,” He blew a thick smoke and watched it travel in the air.

“Am I your prisoner now?” I managed to ask.

He walked over to the corner of the room, dragged a crane chair and lowered himself. I could see the discomfort on his face as he rested his ass on the chair.

He then lifted his gaze and i,t was cold and menacing, “Elizabeth, you're not my prisoner. You're my wife. Sit, let's talk. How many women have attempted to murder their men on the night of their honeymoon? Yours will make a good story in the papers”.

I swallowed, “And, how many men murder a girl's father and brother and then take her as a wife?”

He smiled at me, obviously amused, “Only a man like Cross can do that. You see, that move you just pulled is dangerous. You could be bathed in acid and slowly left to burn to death. You could be cut slowly, vein after vein and left to bleed to death. Or you could be given a merciful death by being raped by countless men until you're gasping for breath”.

My whole body tightened with fear as I heard those words. And he said to them like they didn't mean a thing to him.

“So, how am I going to die? What death will be befitting for the wife of a mafia leader?” I stuttered.

He smiled and stared at me. I could spot a spark of tenderness in his gaze, “You're not dying. At least not today. Though my men will be eager to lay waste to you. My enemies will be glad that an attempt was made on my life, and they will hope for another attempt. But I forgive you”.

“If you've forgiven me, then let me go,” I managed to say.

“There is no way out. You're my wife, and the earlier you realise it, the better for you. These things get more complicated when you fight it,” He said.

“No,” I screamed, I couldn't bear it again, “You aren't even considering my mental health,” I shouted at the top of my voice. It seemed something snapped in me, and I glared at him face to face, “You killed my father and brother in my presence, threatened my mom, and you want me to just accept you as my husband? How do I accept someone who takes my happiness from me?”.

“Do you think I kill for pleasure?” His cold voice resounded in the room, and I kept mute.

My heart rammed against my rib cage as I stared at his cold eyes. There were bloodshot, and his lips trembled.

“Do you think I kill for joy?” His voice was low now.

I just stared at the floor, hoping he wouldn't wrap my hand around his neck and strangle me to death.

“Maybe your Dad didn't school you about how this whole stuff works. We are Mafias, our world is different from a regular man's world. All these luxuries, the money, the vacations, they all come at a price, which is blood. I kill to keep my head and that of my syndicate. Your Dad died because of his mistakes. He wanted to play saint, he started asking a whole lot of classified questions and Decagon couldn't take it. The Decagon is a ten-man power circle. They are made up of the founding families, and they control the underworld. Your father died at their hands; I am but an instrument. Marrying you is a way to protect you from the powers that have risen because of your father's death. You won't survive twenty four hours in the outside world”.

Those words confused me more but I couldn't dare ask for answers. I just swallowed and winced slightly.

Cross placed his right hand on his stomach and lifted himself. He stared at me, and his face turned blank again.

“I will leave you to rest. By tomorrow, we will be leaving for our new residence. There will be a party at my new club. There, you'll get to meet my business partners and other associates,” He said and walked towards the door. He then held the knob and turned, “Little bride”.

I lifted my gaze to meet his cold ones, and I flinched.

“If you dare pull the stunt you did earlier, I will end your life myself and throw your body into the river,” He snarled and left.

As the door was banged, I released a deep breath. I never realised I had been holding my breath.