A Marriage Of Hate?
Chapter 07
Julianna?
Falling in love is like the sunshine,
But our moments are lost in time.
Like a drowning lover,
Yet again, I fall for thou,
But thy heart yearns another.
A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 1 – 10
When I came to Isle Rosa-Maria, a day before my wedding, I found that my wardrobe had already been filled with new clothes, a few of them were my personal taste, but it was all per Killian’s choices and what William expected his daughter-in-law to dress, like a true Spencer.
After all, the attention would be on me
How I walked, how I dressed up, how I talked…
Every breath I took, every movement I made, every smile and every laugh.
The high society and the common people would judge me and if they found me lacking, it would be the Spencer’s reputation at risk.
William didn’t expect Killian to leave me at the altar though; he hadn’t anticipated that his son would leave the island without a backward glance or that I would defy all expectations and decide to stay here.
One side of my wardrobe was stuffed with evening gowns and formal dresses. I also had simpler ones that I could wear at home, comfortably. On the other side, there were sweaters, blouses, jeans and skirts.
All were newly bought: posh and expensive.
I grew up in luxury and wealth, none of this was surprising and neither did it wow me.
If the Spencers held blue diamonds in their hands, the Romanos possessed jadeites.
“Is this like a date?” Mirai questioned lazily, bringing my attention back to her.
“No,” I deadpanned. “It’s just dinner.”
“Then why are you taking so long to choose a dress?”
I glared at Mirai and she pressed her lips together, hiding a mischievous smile. “Get out.”
She clucked her tongue at me. “You want him to like you.”
“Mirai,” I warned, slamming my wardrobe close.
She let out a small giggle before she bounced off my bed and rushed out of my bedroom, closing the door behind her.
What Mirai said couldn’t be further from the truth. I didn’t want Killian to like me.
No, I wanted him to see me as equal, not a vessel or a walking womb for him to be used and then discarded.
I was more than that. I was Julianna Romano, my father’s daughter. I was Julianna Spencer, Killian’s wife.
I was Julianna.
I was Killian’s equal and I needed him to see that.
In the end, I chose a simple black evening dress, with a sweetheart neckline, spaghetti straps and side slit, up my right leg.
The satin fabric was soft under my fingertips.
The diamond necklace sat heavy around the base of my throat.
While my dress was simple and elegant, the jewelry adorning my neck was quite extravagant and expensive with more than fifty intricate, teardrop pieces put together to create one necklace.
I gave myself a once-over in the mirror. My black veil was pinned in place and my hair fell down the curve of my spine, shiny and curled in waves.
I looked every bit the elegant and classy wife, the one high society expected me to be.
I left my room with frayed nerves coursing through my veins. My heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings, one locked in a cage, desperate to escape.
When I approached the dining hall, I saw that Killian was already there, seated at the head of the table. He had discarded his suit jacket.
The collar and first two buttons of his black shirt were undone, exposing the top of his chest.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he sat back on the chair, his legs stretched out under the table, one elbow on the armrest and cigarette between his fingers.
His posture was the epitome of calm and collected, but I didn’t let his nonchalant act deceive me, for I knew of the flickering rage underneath his skin.
He watched me walk into the dining hall, his attention drifting down where the slit on my dress exposed my bare legs as I walked before his gaze came back to my face.
Not before his eyes lingered a second longer on the deep v-cut of my black dress, where my b©©bs were pushed together by the tight bodice.
Killian brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long inhale before blowing out a puff of smoke. “You’re late,” he said.
“Now that’s not true. I’m right on time; you’re just a tad early. Maybe it’s good practice for you. It’s gentlemanly to wait for your lady, with patience.” I took a seat on the opposite side of him, at the other end of the dining table.
There was more than twelve feet in length separating us. With a flower vase strategically placed in front of me.
The three chandeliers hung low from the ceiling, right over the dining table and I liked how they illuminated Killian’s face.
Even from the distance, I could see the way his jaw was locked and the darkening of his gaze.
“You’re not a lady, the same as I’m not a gentleman,” he drawled, loud enough for me to hear him across the table.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “We are a perfect lie together, husband.”
Dinner was served in silence and once the two housekeepers made themselves scarce, Killian finally spoke his mind.
“What do you wish to accomplish with this dinner?”
While making sure the flower vase was directly in my face, hiding me – well, most of my face – from Killian’s view, I slowly removed the pins that kept my black veil in place. I lowered the lace fabric and placed it on my lap.
“Nothing much,” I said, keeping my voice from shaking.
It was the first time I had removed my veil outside of my room. But it wasn’t like I could eat while it still covered my face.
From the corner of my right eye, I saw Killian grinding his cigarette into the ashtray, before letting it fall from between his fingers.
“Then, what’s the point of it?”
“You married me, Killian,” I said, grabbing for my cutlery.
“Don’t you think we should at least spend a few minutes in each other’s presence without you feeling the need to go for my throat.”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “I don’t think that’s possible, Beasty.”
I ignored the jab, and the way he seemed to keep calling me Beasty.
After my accident, strangers would whisper that name behind my back, giggling and sneering, until it became my label.
Now, my dear husband was using it against me in the most vindictive way possible.
But that was Killian Spencer for you. Lethal words.
Dangerously heartless. Cold eyes and even deadlier vengeance seeping through his veins.
Every time he used that name, I was left with another crack in my heart.
He knew that and he used it to his advantage.
I gritted my teeth. “Well, that’s the point of these dinners. To make it possible.”
“You’re gluttonous for pain, wife.”
His deep voice wrapped around me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Goose flesh peppered my bare arms.
“The walls that hold you prisoner is of your own doing and your destructive need to make yourself miserable. Self-loathing, Julianna. You stink of it; it bleeds through your actions and seeps through your words. The high society will eat you alive and spit out your crushed bones.”
“Is that a warning?” I breathed, my hands shaking as I gripped my knife and my fork tighter.
“No, it’s simply a threat, Beasty.”
I knew that the chains around my ankles and my enduring penitence was of my own doing – Killian was right, but I never expected him to so easily read me like an open book.
He saw through my thorned cage and tore down my walls with a single observation.
Killian left me defenseless, before taking his dagger and driving it into my heart – leaving me bleeding with his careless words and heartless epiphany.
Selene had been right.
He will dig under your skin, find all your flaws and shred you to pieces until your heart is bleeding at his feet.
I licked my lips and took a deep breath.
“Your father has arranged for the masquerade ball, exactly a month from now. It’s our wedding reception and this time, you can’t walk away from me. Not when we have to prove to the high society and our friend circles that we are the perfect married couple. It’s a pretty façade, of course, but whether it’s a lie or not, we have to convince them that we’re happily married.” I gestured between us with my fork. “This is practice, Killian.”
“We have to be civil with each other,” he mused, a wicked grin on his lips.
“Civil and in love,” I amended.
He cut through his chicken and brought his fork to his lips.
“There’s no love where there is hate,” he said, before popping the small piece of chicken into his mouth.
“There’s a fine line between love and hate, Killian.”
“Not for us.”
“Not for us,” I agreed. For the vows I took were sacred while his were tarnished with vengeance.
Our love story was doomed from the beginning.
The rest of the dinner was silent, with only the sound of our cutlery against our plates echoed within the walls.
Once our plates were cleared, Killian pushed his chair back and he stood up, throwing his napkin on the table.
“Are we done here?”
My stomach hollowed and I nodded. He walked away without another word, quickly disappearing around the pillars.
Once he was done, I grabbed for my black veil, my fingers shaky as I pinned it in place, once again.
I didn’t know what exactly I expected to come from these dinners, the short time we were to spend together.
Maybe I wanted a glimpse of the real Killian behind that cold, hateful exterior.
Or maybe I wanted him to see the real Julianna.
I wanted Killian to move on – to fall in love again, with a woman who deserved him more than I did.
But here I was, making stupid decisions that were only bringing us closer than putting distance between us.
Though, the closer we got…
The harder it became to protect my lies and my secrets.
It was a dangerous game I was playing and if I wasn’t careful, Killian might just end up hating me even more.
For the truth was worse than my secrets – and our reality.
A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 1 – 10
Killian?
A week later
I downed the whiskey, feeling it burn my throat, but, that was exactly what I needed.
I dragged the comforter over my lap and leaned against the headboard. I must have slept for only two hours.
It had been a week since I came back to the Island, a week since I was living in the same goddamn place as Julianna, a week since I was forced to sit and have dinner with her.
Her presence taunted me.
I knew Julianna was trapped within her own heartbreak.
I saw the torment in her eyes; eyes that looked so much like Gracelynn’s.
Her grey eyes, like the smoke after the fire, after the burn… like the ashes we were laying in.
They got darker and greyer when she was angry. Those unique green speckles, sometimes they hid behind the grey, sometimes they were so vivid in her eyes.
Her eyes remind me of… what I lost.
It was t©rture, watching the woman who killed my heart, walk around the halls of this castle, alive and breathing.
Julianna carried Grace’s ghost with her, mocking me.
The rage festered, growing darker… deadlier.
Her soul was so well entangled with mine, I could feel her torment and I breathed it. Her pain fed the monster lurking beneath my skin.
My phone rang, snapping me out of my thought, and after checking the caller ID, I picked up the call. “Dad,” I greeted.
“You really thought you could fool me, Killian,” he said in greetings, his voice slow and breathy. Sick.
My brows pulled up in confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
“I have eyes everywhere, son.
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“I’ve done what you asked me to do. She compromised with me and I allowed her. I’m being a gentleman, like you asked.”
Dad clucked his tongue at me, in a dismissive manner.
“Do you take me for a fool, Killian?” he asked, repeating his earlier words.
“No.”
I heard a rustle in the background and I imagined he was still in bed.
It was still early in the morning, after all.
“Maybe in your dictionary, being a gentleman means humiliating your wife every chance you get.”
My eyes widened and my stomach heaved. Double fvck. How did he come to know about this?
“What? How–”
He cut me off. “Three weeks left until the masquerade ball. Don’t you dare mess this up, Killian. You have three weeks to stop acting like a grumpy child and more like the man I expect you to be. I raised you better than that.”
I rubbed my temple, where a headache was starting to form.
“Yes, I understand.”
He hung up and I threw my phone on the bed, fighting back the urge to break something.
My father was having me watched. Every single moment of my day was being reported back to him.
Goddmn it!
So, it was either Emily or Stephen.
Or could it be Gideon?
Four hours later, I found Julianna walking in the garden, taking her sweet time to check on the flowers that have recently bloomed.
Today, she was wearing an emerald blouse, tucked into her pillowy white, ankle-length skirt.
And of course, her black lace veil covered her face.
While Gracelynn’s hair was a platinum blonde, almost white in the sunlight, Julianna’s was black and shining.
Gracelynn used to walk with an elegance, a sway in her hips, but Julianna walked with a limp.
Her sister was modest and never argumentative, but my wife fought back, giving me a piece of her mind with everything I threw at her.
But it was all a sham.
Her strength was as fake as her, because I got a glimpse of the woman Julianna was hiding behind her perfect ruse.
Too bad for her, she didn’t realize that she was stuck here, on this island, and this was my kingdom but she wasn’t the queen.
Julianna was a martyr.
And she was trapped in this golden cage I had built around her.
I had her soul in my bare hands and Beasty didn’t even know it.
“Roses are beautiful, but their thorns can make you bleed,” I called out, approaching her from behind.
“But you’d know that better than anyone, right?”
She straightened, giving the flowers one last look before turning to me.
“You won’t bleed if you don’t mess with them. That’s why you don’t pluck roses. Leave them be and they’ll stay beautiful, without causing any lasting harm.”
I clapped my hands. “What a beautiful epiphany, wife.”
“What are you doing here, Killian?”
she sighed. “It’s too early for this.”
I agreed, but to please my father – a dying’s man last wish was for him to see his son courting his wife – I had to play along.
I presented her with my elbow, begrudgingly.
“Take a walk with me.”
Julianna squinted at me in suspicion.
“Why?”
“You don’t trust me?”
“No,” she shot back.
“That’s a wise and smart decision, Beasty.”
She rolled her eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get me alone so you could $lit my throat and dump me somewhere on the island.”
“Now, that would be too easy,” I drawled.
“You’re a j erk,” she hissed, before wrapping her fingers around my elbow.
“We’ve established that.”
We started walking, Julianna matching my long steps without any complaint.
When I noticed that her limp was more pronounced, I slowed down.
“What are you trying to do?” she asked, giving me a side-eye.
Confusion masked her voice, but it was her curiosity that had her asking the question.
“Civil and in love, remember?”
She inhaled sharply. “There’s no one here though.”
Or so she thought, my naïve wife.
I paused in front of a bush of roses, also bringing Julianna to a stop. One specific bloomed rose caught my attention.
It was lonely amongst the other budded ones that were still waiting to blossom. It was the reddest of the roses I had seen so far, its big petals fluttering against the breeze.
It was pretty, so I plucked it.
“Wait, don’t–”
Beasty was too late. I held the plucked rose by its stem, gesturing for Julianna to take it.
“For you.”
This close, I could see the way her lips thinned in displeasure behind her thin, laced veil.
When she didn’t take it right away, I grasped her hand in mine, pushing the rose into hers, forcing Julianna to accept the gift.
Our eyes silently locked, speaking in languages we didn’t understand. My lips twitched, she blinked – and I put the slightest pressure on my hold, pressing her fingers into the thorns
.
“Ouch,” she gasped, releasing the rose and trying to snatch her hand away.
Blood seeped through where the thorn had pricked her index finger.
“Oops, I made you bleed.” I caught her hand in mine and brought it to my mouth.
“Some people are roses, Beasty. Some people are thorns. Here’s the thing, you can’t turn a thorn into a rose petal. A thorn is a thorn, beautiful but unpleasant and painful at the same time. They mingle with the roses, but never let the thorns get to you. For once you’re pricked, you bleed.”
“They coexist, together,” she breathed.
“What’s a rose without thorns? A wilted rose.”
My lips wrapped around her bl eeding finger, sucking on the bl ood. Her grey eyes flared and Julianna didn’t make a sound.
Her chest rose up then down, with the shuddering breath she took. I tasted her bl ood on my tongue, a subtle metallic flavor.
My tongue circled the tip of her finger, laving over the tiniest wound.
My teeth grazed her fingertip and I bit down until she flinched and whimpered.
“There you go. All good,” I said, letting her finger slip out of my mouth.
She went to snatch her hand away, but I held fast.
“We have eyes on us, Julianna.”
Her brows furrowed, before her eyes widened in understanding.
“Oh.”
“Oh,” I echoed.
She plastered a fake smile on her face.
“Your father,” she said.
My eyes flickered over her shoulder to find our stalker watching us.
I nodded. “Play along, Beasty. It’s a dying man’s wish.”
“Who is it?”
“Gideon,” I answered, without needing her to clarify her question.
I tucked the flower into her hair; Julianna let out a barely audible gasp before I gripped her hand in mine, tugging her forward.
We resumed our walk along the path of the castle’s garden. The royal people in the Victorian era sure loved anything fancy and grand. Who needed a seven-hundred acre garden?
Once we reached the fountain, the one sitting in the middle of the path, Julianna released my arm and limped over to it.
With my hands shoved in the pockets of my slacks, I watched as she sat herself down on the flat surface of the fountain, stretching her legs out in front of her.
Our eyes collided before they locked with each other, in a silent battle.
Julianna was quiet for a moment, before she opened her mouth and ruined our peace treaty.
“What was your favorite thing about my sister?” she whispered.
My muscles tensed at her words. “You have a penchant for self-destruction, Beasty.”
“Answer the question.”
My chest tightened and I growled, “Her hair. It was unique, different… beautiful.”
Julianna gave me a bittersweet smile.
“Do you think she’d love the new you? This Killian standing in front of me, right now? So full of rage and hatred.” She shook her head sadly.
“She’d hate you more than anything.”
It was almost as if Julianna wanted me to hate her.
She didn’t think before she spoke, bringing up her dead sister when she knew the reason behind my hatred was herself.
I stalked over to her and she gasped when my arm snaked out, too fast for her to act.
My fingers circled around her throat and I squeezed, pulling her up. She stumbled into me, our chests colliding together.
Julianna let out a small sound and she fumbled, her nails digging into the back of my hand that was currently wrapped around her pretty neck.
“What is this new, stupid act?” I hissed, my breath fanning over her veil. “You’re digging your grave deeper, Julianna.”
My hand tightened around her throat, not enough to choke – I knew she could still breathe easily – but it was a warning.
I saw fear flash behind the grey in her eyes and she trembled under my hold.
“What can you do to me that has not already been done?” she muttered softly.
“I am your karma,” I growled in her face. “I could tear you apart if I wanted.”
She breathed, her eyes still locked on mine, stubbornly.
“I’m in your soul, Beasty. I see you for who you are. A villain, my enemy – the reason behind my half-dead heart. I’ve made you weak; I’ve brought out your vulnerability and I’ve used it against you. But you’re so naïve, still standing in front of me, with your stupid act, as if you’re strong. But you’re not, Julianna. I’ve seen the real you. The bleeding you. The you behind this veil, behind that façade, and you know who she is? A feeble creature with bones stained with sin, blood under her fingernails, and soulless eyes. I’m standing in the ashes of who you used to be, Beasty.”
Tears filled her eyes and I smelled her defeat; it was so potent that I tasted her defeat on my tongue.
Her body went slack under my hand, the fight finally leaving her body.
“And you know what’s laughable?”
A single tear escaped her eye, sliding down her cheek, hidden behind the veil.
“I haven’t even started yet. Your life is mine. Call me a monster, but you’re the one with blood on her hands.”
Julianna made a choking sound in the back of the throat, holding back a sob.
I released her and she stumbled back, shaking her head. “You’re heartless,” she cried. “Downright cruel; it’s almost inhuman.”
I watched her gasp, tears spilling down her cheeks before she spun on her heels and ran away, stumbling and limping into the labyrinth.
Fire flared inside me, hot and raging. She shouldn’t have baited me, shouldn’t have brought up her sister when she knew damn well what it meant to me.
I raked my fingers through my hair, pulling until my scalp burned. From the corner of my eye, I saw Gideon walking toward me from a distance.
This was the last thing I needed right now. Gideon questioning me and then reporting back to my father. With a growl, I rushed after Julianna.
Once inside the labyrinth, I called out for her. “Julianna!”
She couldn’t have gone far, but this was a dangerous place.
Once lost, it was near impossible for her to find her way out. We’d be stuck in here all day and well into the night.
“Julianna,” I yelled loudly. “Call out to me.”
She didn’t.
I moved around the labyrinth, left and right, only to come across three dead ends and no sign of her.
“Goddmn it,” I swore under my breath.
Tugging at the collar of my shirt, I snapped the first two buttons open. It was too hot today and here I was, chasing after my wife – in a goddamn labyrinth.
There was a wounded cry to my far left that made me pause. When the sound came again farther away, but it still sounded like Julianna, I ran toward it.
There she was.
On the ground, as if her legs had given out on her. A wretched sob came out of her throat. “Stay…away from… me, Killian.”
I shook my head, approaching her slowly. “Can’t do that, Beasty.”
She sniffled. “We are toxic together. Poison.”
“I agree.”
Julianna brought a hand up, as if to ward me off. “Don’t come any… closer.”
It didn’t stop me. I paused when the front of my polished, leather shoes bumped into her ankles.
I crouched down, coming to her level. “You’re my wife.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “A farce of a marriage. I remember your vows clearly, Killian.”
“To hurt you, to break you… In health and in sickness, through sorrow and pain, for all the days in my life, I will be your worst nightmare,” I rasped, bringing our faces closer. “Till death do us part.”
She crumpled under my eyes and watching her break should have brought me satisfaction.
My sternum ached and there was a tight vice clutching my chest and squeezing my heart.
I didn’t care for Julianna.
But goddmn it, why did her tears remind me so much of Gracelynn’s?
I grasped her elbow, pulling her up, and that was when she went absolutely ballistic on me.
Screaming at the top of her lungs and swatting at my hands, struggling against me. “Let me go!”
A breath lodged in my throat and I gripped her arm harder. “Calm down, Julianna.”
My words had the opposite effect. Her tiny fists slammed into my chest.
“You’re a brute. I hate you! I HATE YOU!”
Her wails pierced through the air and I knew Gideon could hear them. The whole island could.
I had finally broken through her walls and Julianna had lost her senses, letting her emotions swallow her whole.
It would have been a sight to be seen, watching her break, if I hadn’t been so bothered by it.
But I didn’t let myself question why because, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter.
Julianna and I were poison together, as she said. There was no cure.
Grasping her by the shoulders, I slammed her into the grassy walls of the labyrinth.
“Shut up. Gideon will hear us,” I hissed.
“Let me go,” she screamed, clawing at my face. “You’re hurting me, you m©nster. Let me go!”
“Shut up!” I roared, gripping her jaw before I slammed my mouth over hers, silencing her screams and swallowing down her cries.
Right over the veil.
Julianna gasped and went completely rigid in my arms.
Her lips parted under the veil and I could feel her soft lips. Her breath was warm and her hollow eyes flared with… shock.
My body pinned her up against the wall of the labyrinth, and her balled fists came to my shoulders, as if to push me away, but she didn’t.
Her fingers dug into my muscles and Julianna whimpered under my lips, through the thin veil.
I didn’t move. She didn’t either.
The kss was barely even a kss.
One ruined moment.
Two simple breaths.
Three shattering seconds.
I pulled away and Julianna’s legs gave out under her.
Before she could crumble to the ground, I swept her up in my arms.
She roved her eyes over my face, and without a word, she wrapped an arm around my neck and buried her face into my shoulder.
How ironic. To surrender herself into the arms of the m©nster she so despised.
It took me a long time to find our way out of this place, but I eventually saw the exit.
With Julianna still in my arms, I walked out of the labyrinth.
I found Gideon standing there, an expressionless look on his face.
I walked past him without a word and carried Julianna back into the castle, up the stairs and into her room.
She didn’t move once; her muscles barely twitching; she didn’t speak.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was carrying her cold, dead body in my arms.
Or maybe I am…
She barely made a sound when I placed her on the bed. I straightened and she curled into herself.
Her eyes blinked open and our gaze collided together.
“There’s a fine line between love and hate, Killian,” Julianna muttered, her voice soft and broken.
“Not for us,” I said.
“Not for us,” she agreed.
.
.
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