Chapter 13

Ivy

 I quietly slipped out of the room. Aidan's absence felt like freedom, and I didn't waste a second. My sandals clapped softly on the sun-warmed tiles as I made my way through the resort, eager to discover hidden corners away from his brooding shadow.

I rounded a corner and nearly stumbled into an older man with kindly eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. "Oh! I'm so sorry," I blurted out, steadying myself.

"Ah, Mrs. Blackwood, correct?" he asked, a warm smile creasing his face. His badge glinted in the sunlight. I read the name: Kevin.

"Y-Yes, that's me," I stammered, caught off guard by the new last name. I guess it was natural to call me that since I was supposed to be Aidan's new wife.

"I am the manager of this resort. Would you like a personal tour? This villa has quite the history," he offered, gesturing broadly at the surrounding architecture.

"Really? I'd love that," I said, my curiosity growing. This was a beautiful Villa, but did he give all of his guests a personal tour?

"Every brick here tells a story," he said, his voice laced with pride. There was a sense of peace listening to him, a stark contrast to the fear that Aidan's presence always inspired. For just a moment, I could forget about Aidan and the way he treated me.

"Thank you," I breathed out as we finished the tour, feeling lighter than I had since arriving at this place.

"I hope you will enjoy your honeymoon here, Mrs. Blackwood," he said.

I highly doubted I would, but I smiled and nodded anyway.

"Anyway, I hope you like the Villa," he said.

"I love it. It's gorgeous," I chirped.

"If you would like to make some changes, please let me know," Kevin said.

"Um...why would I make some changes?" I asked, confused.

"Because you are Mr. Blackwood's wife. He owns the Villa after all," Kevin said matter of factly.

My steps faltered, almost tripping over the ground. "Aidan? Owns this place?" I echoed, disbelief threading through my tone. My mind raced back to the high school days – Aidan, with that ever-present scowl, his clothes second-hand and his backpack frayed at the edges. How could someone who seemed to battle every day just to get by now be the owner of something so grand?

Being a Mafia Boss must pay really, really well.

"He sure does," the manager nodded, oblivious to the whirlpool of questions swirling inside me.

"Thank you for the tour," I said as we approached the main building again. "And for the... surprising information."

"Anytime, Mrs. Blackwood," he replied. "Enjoy your evening."

I made my way back into the room. I still had a lot to unpack.

My mood soured as soon as I entered the room. Aidan was back, and he was a sight to behold.

His knuckles were smeared with blood, stark and red against his pale skin. My breath hitched, caught in the sudden tightness of my throat.

"Aidan," I whispered, my voice barely carrying. "Your hands..."

He turned towards me, and the intensity in his blue eyes sent a shiver down my spine. The room felt suddenly too small, the walls inching closer with every ragged breath I took.

"It's nothing, Ivy," he said, his voice low and cold.

Nothing? It looked pretty damn serious to me!

"Is that blood?" The words tumbled out before I could catch them, my gaze fixed on the jarring red staining Aidan's knuckles. Despite how I felt about him, I was still concerned.

Aidan's eyes flickered, a spark of something unreadable passing through their icy depths. "It's none of your concern," he snapped, his voice slicing through the room's tension like a knife. "It's not my blood anyway." His tone was dismissive, but the way his jaw clenched told another story—one he clearly had no intention of sharing.

I flinched, biting back the questions that lined my tongue. Whose blood was it then? Who did he hurt?

Before I could process the shift in the atmosphere, Aidan strode toward me. His hand shot out, gripping my arm with a strength that stole my breath away. My back hit the wall with a soft thud, the impact sending ripples of alarm through me.

"Let go," I breathed out, trying to will the tremor from my voice as his face loomed close, his breath mingling with mine.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Ivy," he said.

I felt the cold wall against my skin, the stark contrast to the heat radiating from Aidan's body. His grip tightened, and I caught the scent of iron and sweat—it was the smell of the blood he claimed wasn't his. My pulse hammered.

"Let me go, Aidan," I whispered.

Aidan's fingers dug into my arm, his presence an oppressive force that threatened to suffocate me.

"We have some unfinished business, don't we, Ivy?" he purred.

"Stop this," I commanded with more courage than I felt, my voice steady despite the fear I felt. "I'm not interested in you, Aidan. Let me go."

His response was a low hiss, venomous and filled with hate. "You think I care about what you're interested in?" His grip on me didn't weaken. if anything, it grew tighter, more possessive. "You'll be mine, Ivy. Tonight."

My breath hitched at the raw declaration, fear and anger stirring inside me.

What did he mean I will be his tonight?

I stood my ground. My chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, each one catching slightly as if my lungs knew there wasn't enough air in this room for both of us.

"Is this who you are now?" I challenged, heart pounding against my ribs like it wanted out. "Someone who takes what he wants without consent?"

His jaw clenched, and I saw something flicker in his gaze—a momentary lapse in the armor he wore so well. Then it was gone, replaced by the same intense blue ice that had frozen me in place when he'd first walked in.

"Consent," he echoed mockingly. "As if you're not dying for it."

My stomach turned, revulsion knotting with the fear. "You know nothing about what I want."

"Then tell me, Ivy," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Enlighten me about what goes on in that pretty head of yours."

I whispered fiercely, "Like I said before. I don't want you."

His hand moved from my arm up to my chin, tilting my face toward his, and for a split second, I wondered if he would kiss or hit me.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against my skin, but I held my ground, my back pressed cold and hard against the wall.

"Stop this, Aidan," I demanded, my voice quivering but determined. "This isn't what I want."

"You think you can dictate what happens here?" His words slithered out like venom, dripping with disdain. Yet, despite the harshness, there was a tremor, a slight crack in his composure that told me he was battling his own demons.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, fighting to keep my own fears at bay. "Yes," I said firmly. "Because no one gets to make those decisions for me."

Aidan chuckled without warmth, and dread pooled inside me. He looked and sounded so cold.

"You will do what I say, Ivy. Because if you don't, I will kill you. Right here and now," Aidan said.

"Y-you...you wouldn't," I stammered.

With a sinister smirk, Aidan brought his face closer to mine, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, "I no longer care what kind of history we had. Did you really think just because we went to high school together, I would treat you special? No, sweetheart, you are nothing but a pawn in my game. So if you don't listen to me, I will slice you open if I have to, and no one would even blink an eye."

Fear paralyzed my body, and I couldn't breathe. I believed him.

A shiver ran down my spine as the reality of my situation sank in. He really had changed. And not for the better. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the image of Aidan's crazed expression, his cold blue eyes daring me to defy him. The thought of what might happen if I didn't comply made me feel sick to my stomach but I had no choice, not when my life was at stake.

"I will never forgive you for this," I whimpered.

"And I...don't care about your forgiveness," he mockingly said.

He stepped back, giving me just enough room to breathe again before grasping my wrist roughly and pulling me towards the bed. My heart hammered against my ribcage, and the sound of my labored breathing filled the room.

"Strip," he growled, his voice dripping with lust and power as he towered over me.