First Night Together, The Honeymoon

Old Barry left shortly after that, saying he'll retire for the night. Ross stayed by my side, even teasing Old Barry for his bedtime. Then, Ross turned to me and shyly scratched the back of his head.

"Your impression of us might've been tainted by Old Barry. Don't worry, Fall, he has the worst attitude! The rest of us are kind!" He beamed. He acts like a child...but I guess nothing can surpass that jerk's childishness because Ross is tolerable than his boss.

I attempted a smile, which might or might not have just appeared as a wince. He took a sip of wine, silence lingering around us. He must've felt my uneasiness because he also left shortly after Old Barry. When I was alone at the table again, my thoughts went to the events after tonight. Will the environment remain as bright as tonight? I highly doubt it. And what of their carefree, jolly attitudes? Will they return to their usual cold, ruthless personalities like the rumors? That, I believe will be the case.

They're coldblooded murderers, the foundation of a cruel mafia. And as I glanced to the jerk's location, who had his arms wrapped around a topless man both downing beer like water and grinning from ear-to-ear, I found it hard to believe that a man as immature as that is the one leading them. He surely looked like his reputation from the outside but from the inside...

After finishing my third glass, I started to look for Linda in the crowd. I found her not too far from this table, talking to another middle-aged woman. They didn't seem to be drinking like everybody else, so I quietly stood up and neared them. As I made my way past a few tables, I felt eyes watching my every move—so I faked quivering under the stares. Linda eventually noticed my presence and immediately stood up. The woman she was talking to immediately lowered her gaze once she realized who I was. She was probably a servant. It surprised me earlier when I saw servants joining the party, and some even participated in games.

There was no prejudice. Then again, the servants must also be trained and are as dangerous as the mafia's subordinates. They are working in a mafia's main headquarters, after all.

"C-Can I go back to my room, Linda? I'm getting drowsy," I mumbled when I neared her. I fiddled with the cloth of my dress to show my uneasiness to the stares.

Linda's bowed head rose, but her eyes went past me—to the direction I just glanced at earlier. She then subtly nodded, probably to both of us, and led me out of the hall. We traced back the steps we took this morning, but I tried to hide my suspicion when we stopped in front of a different room. It was still the west wing of the mansion to the 3rd floor on the right hallway, but it was the room at the end of the said hallway, not the 5th to the right. I doubt this is also a guest room.

Then a passing thought made me still as a rock.

What happens on the night of the wedding? The honeymoon.

"This is a different room, Madame Fallon," said Linda. "There are clothes of your size in the door to the right where the wardrobe is. I hope you have a good night's sleep, Madame."

"You're..." I spoke before she took another step. "You're not helping me change into sleepwear?"

Linda took her time answering. "Apologies, Madame Fallon. But I will come in tomorrow morning to dress you appropriately."

She probably decided against it because the jerk will follow me inside anytime soon and didn't want to be caught up in our affairs. She knew it, too.

But I'm not gonna allow him to touch me. This is work and it might cost the safety of the people, but I am not dropping my purity for a mission—and to a very ruthless beast of a man at that. My virtue stands.

Immediately after I went inside, I hurriedly took a shower and changed into a nightgown. I wore a robe I found in the walk-in closet and sprinted to the bed. I warmed the right side of the bed, curling into a fetus position and burying my body over the thick duvet, and turned off the lamps. I was in so much rush that I failed to admire the spacious room's amazing interior, nor did I have time to blush over the rose petals on the bed.

I even blew the candles scattered around the room. The romantic ambiance of the room was completely gone in just a few minutes. I did not come here to develop a healthy marriage with a beast.

I steadied my breathing and closed my eyes. But no matter how much I tried to doze off, the wine I consumed earlier was making me heat up inside. It kept me awake. Until I heard nearing footsteps and soon, the door creaked open.

I tried so hard to look asleep. I am determined to deny any physical touch for the duration of my mission.

The first I heard from him was a harsh scoff. He walked around the darkroom, where the only two light sources were the moonlight from the windows and the hallway light from the open door.

I heard him place down a candle at the far cabinet on the right, and then a faint snicker. After seeing all kinds of refusal of the honeymoon from me, he finally went to my side of the bed. I felt him picking up a few of the petals scattered on the bed and standing beside my curled-up figure under the covers.

"I feel very insulted," his low voice murmured to my 'sleeping' form. "I thought I had the right to decline since I am your owner. I was ruthlessly proven wrong."

I didn't think he still had the ego to have a monologue.

"Fallon Ravestreen..." My name smoothly rolled on his tongue. "My wife really surprises me in many ways. As expected of a lady that has been through so much more than an average slut."

"A sweet nightmare is a good enough punishment for you."