Chapter 5 A marriage without love

Chapter 5

ISLA'S POV

"I do" He finally said. It was at the last second. Amid had just stepped into the church. Wiping his hands. Evans must have recognized him. "Do you, Isla Femerao, take Evans Scott as your lawfully wedded husband?" I said I do. For a moment, I had been scared that he would want to reject me in front of everyone. We skipped the vows and the wedding was done. I had a husband now. As the last of the guests fade into the background, a weight lifts from my shoulders. It's over. My father's iron grip and the mafia finally, I am free. Or at least, as free as I can be in this world. I glance at Evans, my new husband, searching his face for something-kindness, reassurance, maybe even understanding. He catches my gaze but gives nothing away. Ford steps forward, his expression unreadable as he clasps Evans' hand. "Take care of her," he says. I smiled and say my goodbye to Dad. "I hope you don't regret this." He replied. "You should know Dad, I don't things I'll regret." I swallow hard. This is it. No turning back. My father watches from the steps, his face impassive, but I know what this means-what he expects. Evans opens the car door for me. I slide in, my pulse steady but uncertain. A new home, a new life. Maybe, just maybe, this won't be as terrible as I fear. We drove in silence to our new home. It was a gift from the Scotts. I didn't expect any words from Evans but going forward, maybe he would try to love me. The mansion is breathtaking, all grand staircases and glittering chandeliers, the kind of place little girls dream of living in. But I've never been like most girls. I wasn't raised to dream of fairytales instead I was raised in blood and power, the daughter of a mafia boss. Still, as I step inside, I let myself pretend, just for a second. This is my fresh start. A new life. A new family. Then the doors shut behind us with a deep, echoing thud. I barely have time to turn before Evans speaks. "Don't get too comfortable," he says, his voice devoid of warmth. His dark eyes, the same ones that once burned with reckless passion that night, are cold now. Indifferent. "This isn't real." The words shouldn't hurt. I knew what this was for him. A forced marriage, a desperate bid to keep myself and my unborn child from the trifles of the underworld. But I had let myself hope, just a little. At least, he would touch me tonight to consummate the wedding. I lift my chin. "I never said it was." He scoffs, running a hand through his already-messy dark hair. He looks exhausted, like a man who's just survived a battle. Maybe he has. With the way Ford, Amid and my Dad had been breathing down his neck these past four days. "You act like this is a favor to me," I say, crossing my arms. "Like you're the only one who lost something." The only thing he lost was his freedom to be an unashamed playboy. His jaw tightens. "Did you?" I hesitate. Not because I don't have an answer, but because saying it out loud makes it real. Yes. I lost my life of thrill. Lost my dream of marrying a man that loved me. Giving birth in a home that was complete and filled with love. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing it. "You're not the only one with a life that's been rewritten, Evans," I say instead. "So maybe drop the martyr act and accept that we're in this together." He exhales sharply, like he wants to argue, but he doesn't. Instead, he turns away, heading for the grand staircase. "You can have any room you want," he says over his shoulder. "Except mine." I roll my eyes. "Trust me, I don't want to share a bed with someone who looks at me like an obligation." He pauses on the steps, his grip tightening on the railing. "You're wrong." He says with gritted teeth. "About what?" I sat down on the couch, exhausted from everything. I just wanted some peace. "We're not in this together." He said again. Confusion and hurt flash inside me. "What do you mean?" "I only married you because I had no choice," he states. "Once the baby is born, we're done." For a second, just a second, I think I see something crack in his mask. But then it's gone, and he keeps walking, disappearing down the hall. I sit there in the silence, hands resting on my stomach. Maybe this marriage isn't real but the child growing inside me was real and he had to deal with that. And no matter how much Evans Scott tries to shut me out, I'm not going anywhere. Around sunset, I saw him leave the house while talking on the phone. He was going to attend a private party. "Stupid playboy!" I hissed before shutting my door. I arranged my room. Putting a gun on the bedside table, and another underneath the bed. I didn't feel safe without the weapon around me. Perks of living with gangsters and thugs. I washed my face and had some leftover cake for dinner before going to bed. I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned all night. I was trapped in a loveless marriage but was there really any woman so unattractive she would be abandoned by her husband? I couldn't blame anyone because I did the trapping. I checked the time, it was past two in the morning. That was when the main door swung open. I listened carefully, it was familiar footsteps but without rhythm. "Evans?" I called out from underneath the blanket. I got no replied. The door to my room swung open and I reached for the gun on the bedside table, quickly unlocking the safety. The room lights came on and before I could register the face, the body came crashing down. Hot lips pressed against mine in a passionate kiss. I could smell and taste the liquor before I was separated from my assailant. "Babe! I'm home, dear wife." Evans? But this is not his room.