A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 1 – 10
A Marriage Of Hate?
Chapter 09
Julianna?
I woke up with a headache and my body was extremely sore, like I had been flung into a wall several times.
At first, I was confused.
Then, I was filled with dread as the memories came crashing into me.
Someone tried to shoot me; Killian saved me; he took a bullet for me; he was hurt.
Oh God. Who would someone try to kill me and why?
The island was supposed to be safe – it was, up until today.
A wretched sob escaped me and someone popped in front of my blurry vision, leaning over me.
“Hey, little one. You’re awake. How are you feeling?” Gideon asked gently.
Panic threatened to seize me but I breathed, reminding myself to take small and deep breaths.
I licked my lips and finally noticed that I was wearing my veil.
I remembered now. Gideon had covered my face before Killian could see me and my scars.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice cracking.
“No need to thank me.” He waved a hand, dismissing my words. “How do you feel?”
“Sluggish,” I responded truthfully.
“My head hurts and it feels like my whole body is sore. How’s Killian? Is he okay?”
He nodded in understanding.
“He’s fine. Samuel was able to take the bullet out and Killian is sleeping right now. There’s nothing to worry about. But I’m worried about you.”
I swallowed and took in a shuddering breath.
An invisible hand clutched my heart in its fist.
“You know; you saw me,” I choked, my eyes growing teary. “I have no control over it.”
“You had a seizure, Julianna,” Gideon said softly.
It felt like someone was pounding a hammer into the back of my head and blood rushed between my ears.
Gideon grasped my hand in his and he gave me a gentle squeeze. “I won’t ask y–”
“The first time it happened was when I was ten years old,” I spilled out, practically choking on the words.
“I had sustained a brain injury after falling off my horse.”
His brows furrowed. “You have regular seizures?”
“Not exactly.” I shook my head. “I used to, and they would be really bad. But I take medication regularly. I can better control it now, but epilepsy can’t be cured. It was wired into me and my brain. The last time I had a seizure was a month before Killian came back to the Island. It was a smaller one, not as bad as today’s. Emily and Mirai know. And now you.”
Stress and uncontrollable emotions were major triggers for my seizures.
Sometimes I could better control them, but once I lose grasp of that tight control or if I ended up missing my daily medications… my seizures could get really bad.
Before I came to this island, only a handful of people knew of my condition, including my father, sister and Selene.
I didn’t see epilepsy as a horrible thing; it was part of my life and I had learned to accept it at a very young age – but it was difficult for my father.
He saw it as a weakness – one that could embarrass him. So, I confined at home, in my room, within my four walls.
My father didn’t want anyone to know of my condition, and when I was younger, it was harder to control when or where I had my seizures.
Stress triggered them, and unfortunately for me, I stressed easily. And I was also an emotional person.
So, I became Julianna – the forgotten daughter.
“Does he know?” Gideon asked, breaking through my thoughts.
“No,” I said too quickly. “Please, Killian can’t know.”
“I won’t tell him,” he promised. “It’s not my business to get between husband and wife.”
I cracked a small smile under my veil.
“And yet you report back to William Spencer…”
Gideon let out a low chuckle, not taking my words to heart, and I was glad he didn’t.
“He’s my boss and I have to do what he tells me to.”
I finally propped myself up against the pillow, in a somewhat seated position.
“Are you sure Killian is okay?” I questioned, still feeling… guilty at the fact that he took that bullet for me.
He didn’t have to; he hated me – then why?
He could have been seriously injured; it could have been fatal; he could have died.
The thought left a bitter aftertaste on my tongue and my stomach heaved almost brutally and I fought back the urge to throw up.
Maybe I was still in shock.
Gideon patted my hand. “He’s fine. Killian just needs to rest up for a few days.”
“Okay,” I murmured, closing my eyes because I didn’t have the strength to keep them open any longer.
My body was still weak and sluggish – but that was just a side effect of my seizure.
I would also be sleepy for days, my brain mushy and slow. My body needed time to recuperate after such a stressful toll.
Unconsciousness dragged me deeper under, feeling sleepier than usual. Somewhere far away, I heard my door open and then close.
Gideon must have left but I could barely move a limb. The last thought in my head before I passed out was…
Who would want me dead?
I limped down the corridor that led into Killian’s quarters.
It was dark and eerily quiet, but I didn’t let that deter me from my mission.
It was past midnight and I was hoping he was asleep; I just wanted to see him once.
Just to confirm he was okay.
I needed to see him.
He had been a j erk to me since the beginning, but I couldn’t exactly blame him when I was the villain in his story.
And yet, Killian protected me when he didn’t have to.
I quietly opened his door, letting out a sigh of relief when I found it unlocked.
Walking inside, I shut the door behind me and my eyes searched for Killian.
The room was practically pitched black, with the exception of a dimly lit nightlamp.
I walked closer to the bed and found Killian sleeping in the middle of the mattress.
The comforter was lazily thrown over his hips and he was bare-chested, except for the white bandage.
Dusty hair peppered his chest and stomach, leading up to a single trail along his sternum – the rest was hidden under the comforter.
Killian wasn’t overly muscular; he was lean and built with wide shoulders and strong arms.
My gaze roved over his face. I took the time to admire his almost peaceful, sleeping face.
Killian had defined cheekbones and three days’ worth of dark stubble peppered his cheeks and sharp jaw.
His Roman nose was slightly crooked and I knew he must have broken it at least once during his younger days.
A few strands of his dark hair fell over his forehead and my fingers itched to brush them away.
Killian just looked so… peaceful, that I wanted to drink in the image of him and sear it into my brain, so I could carry it with me forever.
There was no rage, no hatred simmering in his dark eyes and no insulting words spitting from his full lips.
His abs clenched as he sucked in a pained breath and his brows furrowed in his sleep.
I slowly lowered myself beside him on the bed, careful not to wake him up.
My fingers brushed over the lines on his forehead and the deep frown between his eyebrows, smoothing them out.
His lips parted and he released a soft sigh, still very much asleep.
“I came into your life, bringing tragedy with me,” I whispered. “Love can kill while still keeping you alive to feel it. How deadly it is, how painful, how cruel.”
My touch feathered over his cheek, running along his jaw.
“If I could go back to change the past… I would have never willing inserted myself into your life, if I knew our story would be filled with such venom. Our beginning was stained and our future is broken.”
His lips twitched and he shifted in his sleep. I felt brave when I touched his lips, feeling their softness under my fingertips.
I gasped when his arm snaked around and his fingers circled my wrist.
My eyes collided with his sleepy ones, looking slightly confused and still very much lost in the world between awake and consciousness.
“Killian,” I breathed, the pressure on my chest growing heavier.
He searched my eyes, before tugging me forward.
It happened fast, even for someone half-asleep. Killian rolled over until I was under him, and he groaned in pain, his forehead dropping to mine.
My pins had come undone and my veil shifted, dipping below my neck and exposing my scarred face to Killian.
But it was dark enough he couldn’t see the ugly, mangled flesh.
That was the only reason why panic didn’t seize me, why I didn’t rush to cover my face.
Darkness shrouded us. Killian was barely conscious… this was my secret.
His gaze fell to my lips, and he lingered there for a second too long, his eyelids hooded.
His harsh breath fanned over my mouth and gooseflesh peppered my skin.
Sweat broke between his brows and I could see the shadow of pain on his handsome face.
“Killian.” His name echoed from my lips.
He released a shuddering breath and then he did the one thing I didn’t expect him to do.
His nose brushed against my unmarred cheek and along the length of my jaw.
Killian nuzzled me, his lips caressing my skin like the softest feather.
I trembled, warmth pooling in my belly. He lowered his body over mine and I didn’t have any choice but to accept his weight on me.
I didn’t come here for this…
But now, I wanted it.
I needed this more than I needed salvation. More than I desired redemption.
Killian let out a pained groan and our lips separated.
I inhaled a deep breath when he slumped over my body, the strength leaving him, and he sunk into unconsciousness again.
His face was buried in my throat and I felt his breath on my skin, warm and soft.
Such a sweet fantasy but also a cruel reality.
Killian and I were an unfinished story, with no happy ending in sight.
For we were more than a tragedy. We were an impending calamity; we were nothing but ugly together, wreaking havoc on our own souls. With our bare hands.
“I’m sorry.” The walls and the ghosts of this castle heard my whisper, my pain seeping through those two simple words.
The secrets that were buried with my sister were catching up to me, quickly.
The lies I had webbed around us were crumbling.
Because my truth was that…
I fell in love with Killian Spencer when I was seventeen years old.
But I only ended up killing his heart.
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A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 1 – 10
Killian?
“Should you be out of bed?” Julianna asked, finally breaking through the tension.
Our forks and knives against our plates had been the only sound echoing through the walls of the dining hall for the last five minutes.
I took a slow sip of the champagne, Dom Perignon Rose Gold.
My tongue tasted the layers of sweetness, and then tartness with one single sip, tantalizing to my tastebuds like I expected any expensive champagne to be.
“Dinner every night, for thirty nights. That was your compromise,” I said, placing my champagne flute back on the table.
This morning Julianna and I spoke about the damage that took place last night.
She told me that she didn’t have any personal enemies and she truly didn’t know why someone would try to kill her. None of it made sense.
I thought maybe it could be an enemy of Bishop Romano or maybe an enemy of the Spencer’s, but to so foolishly try and attack Julianna in plain sight?
None of our enemies would be so stupid to do so.
They were more… sophisticated than that.
But with the only suspect now dead, we had no leads.
Still, I’d doubled the security around the island.
While we were still in the dark, we didn’t know if the maid was just insane and acted on her own – or if there had been someone else behind the shooting.
A mastermind.
Whoever it was though… they wouldn’t attack again. Not any time soon.
And especially not when we were now vigilant after their first failed attempt.
My side, where the wound had been bandaged, still ached like a motherfker.
Every time I breathed, it felt like someone was poking the wound, digging their finger in there.
And sitting up straight wasn’t helping either. Sweat broke across my brow and I gritted my teeth against the pain.
I missed last night’s dinner because Samuel drugged me, but I heard that Julianna was practically passed out too and she missed dinner.
So, last night didn’t count.
But I wasn’t going to miss another dinner. A simple bullet wound wasn’t going to stop me.
Not if Julianna would use it against me and come up with another shitty compromise, making me dance to her tunes.
Not that I thought she would…
And it was definitely not because I somewhat enjoyed dinner with her every night.
Her banter and her in-depth discourse about politics and really, anything in between.
Yeah, maybe getting shot has with my brain. Goddmn it!
Julianna wasn’t a stupid rich heiress, like I had expected her to be.
In fact, she was quite smart about politics and business, so, over dinners, we had found a common ground.
Other that throwing insults and going for each other’s throats, we had chosen safe topics to talk about.
That was the deal, anyway. Wasn’t it?
Dinner every evening, for thirty nights and we would try to get along.
Well, granted that wasn’t a success all the time… but we did get along, well enough that we survived each other’s presence for the last two weeks without strangling each other.
Two weeks in her company and I was starting to see Julianna for someone other than Gracelynn’s killer…
There was just so much heartbreak in her face, so much torment in her eyes – Julianna was already killing herself without me having to. She was self-destructing; her soul practically begging for more pain, more suffering, more despair.
A pretty mess, under the black veil, expensive gowns and beautiful jewelleries.
“I wouldn’t have held it against you if you skipped dinner tonight or tomorrow,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
The three flower vases along the length of the table, sitting right in the middle, hid her face from me.
I knew she removed her veil while we ate and I knew those vases were placed, in this specific way, for a reason.
I found myself frowning at her words, not exactly sure if she was calling me weak.
Did she think that stupid bullet wound could bring me down?
“I only got shot, Beasty. You’re acting as if I’m dying.”
“I’m acting like a caring wife,” she informed me, with a slight quiver in her voice.
“Ah, yes.” I nodded. “Playing along. Civil and in love.”
Julianna released a tiny growl and I almost laughed at how non-threatening that sounded.
“That’s not it. Why do you keep twisting my words, Killian?” she gritted.
I cut through my steak and shoved a piece in my mouth and waited until I had chewed and swallowed down my food before replying.
Because respected gentleman didn’t speak with their mouth full.
“Why? Do you want me to think that you actually care?”
She must have heard the taunt in my voice because Julianna dropped her fork with a clank against the porcelain plate.
“I’m not heartless. You got shot because of me. Of course, I care!”
My brows pulled up at how affronted she sounded. “Would it matter?”
“What?” my wife hissed.
“Would it matter if I died?” I drawled, enjoying the indignation in her voice. “You’ll finally be rid of me, Beasty.”
That silenced her.
Even with the distance between us, I heard her sharp inhale.
I imagined her t©rtured grey eyes, glassy with heartbreak. For once, I wanted to see her facial expression, instead of having to guess her emotions through her eyes.
But her gaze always spoke what she felt. Julianna might have been a good liar, but her eyes never lied.
“You can’t die,” she finally whispered.
“You can’t.”
My fingers tightened around my fork at her soft whisper and the cracks in her voice.
“You sound quite heartbroken at the thought. You’re a good actress, wife. I’ll give you credit for that. A good actress, sometimes a good liar, but always the villain,” I said coldly.
“There we go,” she snapped, waving a hand between us. “Jerk Killian is at it again. I almost missed him.”
“I knew you’d choose jerk Killian over the gentleman. You really do have a penchant for pain,” I drawled.
“And you really need to take that stick out of your arse.”
“Feeling quite bold today, aren’t you?”
Julianna sighed. “Civil and in love,” she reminded us, her voice softening.
“Civil and in love,” I agreed.
After a few seconds of silence, Julianna spoke again.
“Your father said that he’ll be here next week, a few days before the masquerade ball.”
I nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“How many guests are we expecting?”
Once my plate was empty, I pushed it away and placed my elbows over the edge of the table.
With my chin over my laced fingers, I regarded the navy and white vase – for Julianna’s face was hidden right behind it.
“Around two hundred,” I surmised thoughtfully. “And these are only the ones that matter.”
“In the public eye,” she amended.
“Exactly.”
“This is important for both our families,” Julianna mumbled and then sighed in what I presumed was anxiousness.
“It’s our first event together since our marriage. In fact, it’s the first time we will be seen together since the wedding.”
Since you left me at the altar.
Julianna didn’t say it out loud, but nonetheless, I heard her silent accusation. I ignored it.
“They will find your insecurities.” The warning in my voice might have caught her attention because I saw her shoulders pop back and she straightened in her seat.
“They will drag your flaws from under your flesh and dig deep into your soul.”
“Like you do?” she shot back.
“You’re my wife,” I said blandly. “I can do whatever I want but I won’t give anyone else the opportunity to do the same.”
“So, you’ll protect me from the vultures?” And now she was mocking me. How brave of her.
“I’ll protect you from the vultures and once we are alone–”
Julianna cut me off. “You’ll go back to hating me, I know.”
I clucked my tongue at her, a grin spreading across my face.
“Glad we’re on the same page, Beasty.”
“A protector with bitter words and a callous heart. I guess I can’t be too picky.”
“We’re married. It’s not like you have a choice anymore.”
And that was it. The rest of our dinner happened in silence.
Dessert came next and that was also eaten without a word between us.
Eventually, our plates were cleared away and instead of leaving the table, I stayed seated.
So did Julianna.
“Killian,” she breathed my name and I waited.
She seemed to want to say something, but was holding herself back.
While the vase hid her face from me, I still caught a glimpse of the scarred side of her face from behind the flowers.
The skin was stretched tightly, almost painfully over her bones, with jagged lines running down her cheeks.
With all the money she had at her disposal, it made me wonder why she never tried plastic surgery.
Fk, she could have had a whole new face if she wanted.
And yet, she only wore a thin veil.
It made me curious as to why…
Julianna didn’t seem like someone who was self-unconscious of her scars, but then, why the black veil?
“Go ahead, speak your mind.” I gave her the push she needed and gestured for her to speak.
I saw Julianna’s hand flutter over her face and I realized that she was pinning her veil back in place.
Julianna stood up and my eyes roamed the length of her.
Black hair in a messy bun, her black veil and this evening, she had chosen a navy-blue gown with a diamond choker around her throat.
She took a deep breath and I watched as she debated with herself, to speak or to not speak her mind.
Her fingers fluttered over the veil and then her throat.
Her nervousness was practically seeping through her actions and this was exactly why the high society would chew her up and spit her out.
If she was lucky enough, they’d drag her through the dirt for a few months and then move to the next weakling.
Or if she was unfortunate, Julianna would never be able to face these people again.
She wouldn’t stand a chance against them.
And I couldn’t allow that.
Especially not when the Spencer’s reputation was at risk.
My wife would have to hold her own and I would have to be her shield, while they threw stones at her.
A protector.
To the woman who broke my heart.
How ironic.
“For what it’s worth, I know you don’t care for my apologies, but I’m sorry,” Julianna finally spoke, her voice considerably soft, I almost missed her words.
I blinked.
It took a second for her words to register in my brain and then it came crashing down on me.
Confused, I only stared at Julianna for a moment.
She apologized, yes.
But it was something else that nagged me…
With her apologies, she had poked what seemed like a distant memory, triggering me into remembering my dream.
Last night.
I had dreamed of Gracelynn.
Kssing her.
Breathing her.
Touching her.
The dream had been so vivid, but it was always like that whenever her ghost visited me in my nightmares.
But it had been a long time since I dreamed of Gracelynn like that.
So close, I swore I smelled her perfume. So close, her skin had felt real under my tingling fingertips.
Her whisper… her voice…
In my dream, she had apologized.
“I’m sorry.”
I had been too drugged last night to make sense of the dream, and when I woke up in the morning, I buried the memories in the back of my mind, refusing to delve into them.
But now that I thought of it, it wasn’t Gracelynn’s voice in my ears.
My breath slammed into my throat, as realization dawned on me.
It was Julianna’s voice in my dream.
It had been her apologizing and…
The kss.
That dream wasn’t a dream, after all.
My head snapped toward her as she started to walk away, leaving me at the table as if she hadn’t been in my room last night… as if she hadn’t invaded my dreams and stole ksses that didn’t belong to her.
Fury simmered underneath my skin, lava coursing through my veins. How dared she?
A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 1 – 10
Julianna?
I closed the door behind me, not even bothering to lock it, and practically crumpled on my bed.
Killian didn’t care that I apologized. I knew he wouldn’t accept my apology but I hadn’t expected the look of pure rage on his face.
Indifference, yes. Another insult, yes. Maybe him taunting me with his casual drawl but not… such crazed fury.
I had come to a point where it felt like no matter what I said or did, I would never get Killian to understand me.
Beg for salvation.
I did, on my knees, every night…
Atone for your sins. Repent.
Marrying Killian and staying in this relationship was my atonement.
Redemption is in the hands of the one you have wronged.
Too bad for me, the man I had wronged hated me with every ounce of his being.
I had come to understand that maybe, I would never find the redemption I was seeking. Not in this lifetime anyway.
This castle was cur$ed, I had begun to believe, and I’d only end up like the other souls who were trapped here.
Just another unfinished story, another ghost roaming within these walls.
My door crashed open and I startled, practically jumping off the bed.
Killian stalked inside with mad purpose.
His long legs ate the distance between the door and my bed quickly, his face a masked of pure, unadulterated rage.
His eyes were pitch-black and his jaw tightened, the muscle in his left cheek ticking under the pressure.
“Julianna.” His frosty voice echoed in my ears, and I froze in my tracks.
“Did you come into my room last night?”
My eyes widened and my heart dipped to my stomach.
Something shifted inside of me, an invisible vise squeezing my heart with thorny vines and I wanted to break free… but I couldn’t.
Killian knew…
Last night had been my secret to bear – something impulsive I had done, but I didn’t think it’d come back to me, chasing me with its ugly truth, or that I would have had to face it so soon.
My lack of response was answer enough for him.
He approached me, his presence reeking of brutal vengeance and merciless death.
As he bypassed the coffee table, he grabbed for the knife that sat on the tray of fruits.
A choked sound escaped my throat and I stumbled back against the wall.
I put a hand out to ward him off, but Killian lunged forward, crowding into my personal space and pinning me against the wall of my room with the length of his body.
Warm and solid.
Both my protector and my tormentor.
I quivered when he placed the tip of the knife against my throat, holding it there.
A soft caress, but so goddamn deadly. His dark eyes were almost inhuman with mania and restrained violence.
And for the first time, I truly feared Killian.
He was capable of doing anything but the only reason he had kept me alive for this long was because of our marriage contract.
But now, I had gone and crossed over a boundary that had been put there when Killian had left me at the altar.
My skin rippled with goosebumps, and I gulped, hard. The knife shifted against my skin and my breath stuttered.
“You stole something that didn’t belong to you, Julianna,” Killian hissed, his hot breath fanning over my veil. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Even through the fear swallowing me up – even with the guilt coursing through my body, there was anger simmering in the pit of my stomach.
At the total unfairness of all of this.
I wanted to scream at him to look into my eyes, to see the real me.
But Killian was so blinded by his pain and his need for vengeance, he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
“Why not?” I found myself saying before I could think twice of it.
“I’m your wife, aren’t I? I took vows in front of God and witnesses. You are my husband… and you’re wrong. I didn’t steal that kss. You gave it to me and I took it because it is rightfully mine. That kss belonged to me.”
Oh, the glacial look on his face and in his soulless eyes.
His lips curled up in a snarl. “I save your life once and you suddenly think you can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. I don’t know if I should call you brave or a fool.”
A wave of shame ran through me, digging under my skin and filling my veins with acid, but I pushed it away.
I pushed it all away – the guilt, the shame, the disappointment, all the pain and despair – and I said things I couldn’t take back.
Words that turned me into the villain and gave Killian another reason to hate me more.
He had been right – I was self-destructing.
“And why are you such a hypocrite?” I let out a humorless laugh and the tip of the knife pressed harder into my flesh, not enough to break skin, but enough to warn me.
“Didn’t you do the same in the labyrinth? Why is it you can kss me whenever you dmn well want to but I can’t do the same? Then, I was your wife but now, I’m the villain. You are the most hypocritical man I’ve ever met in my life.”
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A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 1 – 10
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