The Accidental Marriage: Chapter 38

The scandals surrounding Parker Jacoby go viral. I guess you can’t keep anything hidden if it involves defrauding major art collectors.

Parker, Rupert, Doris and Vernon look like hell in their mugshots. Parker apparently cried before her photo was taken, and Rupert glares at the camera like an enraged ax murderer. Doris’s mouth is tight—she’s probably angry she got caught—and Vernon, well, he is sheer venom. But despite always acting innocent, he’s the worst of the bunch. He hides in the background, not doing anything overt, but always hinting and egging others on to do things in order to benefit himself.

I have the misfortune of having my name and picture splashed across the tabloids, too. Did these reporters have to pick my least flattering side? From the worst angle possible? My face resembles ghostly, pudgy dough, with huge, smoky eyes that make me appear manic. If I didn’t know it was my own picture, I’d think the woman looks like a serial killer.

Reporters camp outside the gates. More try to contact Ares and Huxley & Webber to get in touch with me. “Aunt Jeremiah is so annoyed she’s grumbling about getting restraining orders,” Ares says with a smirk over dinner.

“Can she? If she could, I’d like to have her get me one for the those ‘journalists’ who keep following me everywhere.”

“I doubt it. But she might surprise us. She’s very good at bending the law to her will. If there’s a loophole, she’ll find it.”

“Why won’t they leave me alone?” I whine. I’m not used to this kind of scrutiny.

“You’re the hottest story right now,” Ares says. “You’re young, beautiful and a mysterious heiress from another country. Also the only child of the renowned Susan Winters, and you had your artwork stolen by relatives over the years, only to finally be discovered by the world for the truly amazing artist that you are. Why wouldn’t they love you? I’m a little surprised more of the vultures haven’t shown up, to be honest. They’re obsessed.”

I stir my chicken Caeser salad, flushing at the way he looks at me with adoration. Doesn’t he know the only one whose love I want is him? I cradle my chin in my hand and gaze at his gorgeous face—the stunning blue of his glowing eyes and the sensual line of his smile. Is he enamored of me, too? Does he feel obsessed? It’s impossible to tell if he’s including himself or not.

Which is the problem. He hasn’t told me how he feels. Our marriage is still set to expire soon. Wouldn’t he have said something if he wanted us to be together?

The thought ripples through my heart, and I forcibly push it away. I’m not going to dwell on it and turn what remains of our time unpleasant. “The media’s interest is the most annoying thing ever, but I also feel like it could be an opportunity.”

His expression says, That’s my girl. “What are you thinking?”

“I can give an exclusive interview and talk not only about the art theft but about how Nesovia’s archaic laws made it possible for my relatives to take advantage of me. The country always promises to make changes, but it never does. However, they are very conscious of their image as a refined first-world country, so some international public shame might do the trick. And even if it doesn’t…” I shrug. “Saying my piece about those crotchety old lawmakers will be worth it.”

“If you need help getting ready, I’m here for you,” Ares says. “And everyone at Huxley & Webber is at your disposal.”

“Thank you.” I smile. “I’ll definitely take advantage.”

I prep my statements and clarify my goals. Ares’s cousin Hux, who’s in advertising and a genius with creating the perfect public persona and PR campaigns, advises me to use a podcaster he’s picked out because she has the best reputation, reach and audience for what I want. The woman used to be an investigative reporter, then a DA in a county in Connecticut.

The day of the podcast, she asks a lot of great follow-up questions to draw out aspects that I hadn’t considered. What I love most about her is that she didn’t come to the interview trying to spin a narrative or use me as some kind of symbol for her cause. She’s sympathetic, but fair, treats me like a person, not a victim to be coddled or an artist whose talent people should blindly admire.

By the time I’m done with the ninety-minute talk, I’m worn out. I haven’t talked much about my past before, not publicly, anyway. I never thought people would believe it—it’s inconceivable to all that my relatives would try to poison me, gaslight me and force a marriage on me… Isn’t it? Part of me always feared that people would not only not believe me, but actually turn their backs on me. The idea was terrifying, and always left me feeling too vulnerable to say much.

But the result is immediate and worth every bit of my discomfort.

There is immediate public outrage and quick clarifications by some of the lawmakers in Nesovia, especially those who have pretended to care about women’s rights and equality. And the scrutiny makes it harder for Doris and the others to escape the hammer of justice. I hope they get crushed like a nail made of balsa wood.

Ares comes home early and holds me the day the interview goes live. “I listened to the whole thing. I hate it that you had to suffer alone. I hate it that I wasn’t able to be there for you.”

“You didn’t know. We hadn’t even met back then.” I lay my head on his shoulder, content to be with him, his comforting body heat seeping into my bones. “Besides, all that led me to you. And I’m not going to live my life thinking about what could’ve been.”

“Lareina.” He presses kisses over my eyes. Each touch is so tender, like he cares deeply about me. “I don’t know how you can sound so calm.”

“Maybe because I’m at peace with you?” I smile. “I’m fine. Really.” I wrap my arms around his waist, hoping the close contact will give him the same ease and peace I’m feeling.

But that night he has a dream, and he calls for Queen. It’s always the same. “Queen. Where are you? Don’t leave me.”

I turn over and face him in the dark. Which one is his real feeling? The sweetness he shows while he’s awake that makes me think he might love me…or the urgent calling of that name in his sleep?

When he’s awake is what counts, the part of me that wants to be loved by him insists. But when he calls for Queen, it’s hard to listen to that voice.

* * *

My brothers-in-law’s texts arrive the next day.

–Bryce: You know you should’ve told us about all that shit.

–Josh: The family always comes first. Pietas et unitas. You’re one of us now.

–Me: Thank you, but I honestly didn’t realize they were stealing my paintings. I thought the poisoning was the worst thing they’d done.

–Bryce: I know a guy who knows a guy.

–Josh: Stop it. You don’t know anybody.

–Bryce: He’s just jealous of my connections. But honestly, nobody messes with one of us and get away with it. Ares is your husband, don’t forget. You have the entire Huxley clan behind you.

More buzzes. This time from the elders of the family—The Fogeys, as Ares calls them.

–Prescott: I’m always on your side, my dear. We should have dinner later this month when we aren’t swamped.

–Akiko: I saw the interview. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop crying. Remember—you’re my daughter too. Next time someone hurts you, you come to me.

–Catalina: Simply unconscionable. The entire might of Huxley & Webber is behind you. My connections are at your disposal. I’m going to do everything in my power, call in favors, to ensure they get the maximum sentences.

–Jeremiah: Why don’t we have the death penalty in our beautiful state anymore? It’s heartbreaking.

A bittersweet warmth unfurls in my heart. Their acceptance is absolute. As far as they’re concerned, I’m their family in every sense of the word. Of course, they don’t realize I’m not the one Ares really wants by his side. I force a small smile, because I’d rather smile than cry when so many people are behind me. I’m going to miss this when I leave.

Unlike my uber-busy in-laws, Lucie and Yuna manage to get past the reporters and sneak through the gates. They just hug me for a moment without a word.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” Yuna says finally. Her voice is choked up, but she doesn’t shed tears.

I squeeze her again.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. But don’t forget you have us now,” Lucie vows.

“Appalling. Absolutely appalling.” Yuna shakes her head.

“Don’t worry, they’re going to pay,” I say.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Lucie smacks her forehead. “Why are we making you console us?”

“You’re not. You’re showing me you care, and I’m showing you I appreciate it.” I put a hand on her shoulder and pull her close. “Do you know I never had friends I could talk to? And now here I am, with not just one but two amazing friends who rush to see if I’m okay?”

We lunch and chat, mostly about my life back home, my plans for the future. I avoid talking about my marriage, but ask about their families and who they recommend to manage my money and so on. After all, I’m going to need advisors of my own soon.

Ethan calls to let me know that the process of claiming my trust will take much less time than anticipated. Doris can’t mess it up by filing motion after motion while she’s in jail in America when she needs every bit of money and mental energy to defend herself and her family. She’s probably going to throw Parker under the bus, but the latter won’t go quietly. She’s easily crazy and angry enough to go scorched earth on everyone.

“Even the probate in Nesovia will be shortened. There’s so much interest and speculation that even if the court justifiably delays the process, it’ll look really bad. Those people are way too image-conscious. Why don’t they always do the right thing?” I can hear the head shake in Ethan’s voice.

“So it doesn’t matter if I’m married or not? Or reach thirty or not?”

“Doesn’t look like it. Technically you don’t have to maintain your marital status until you get control of your trust, especially if there’s no one challenging it, like your aunt. And Ares can’t touch anything, since he signed the prenuptial agreement. I expect it to take maybe two, maybe three more months? Then you’ll be fully in charge.”

“Thanks. That’s good to know.” My voice is slightly hollow. Once Ares gets his promotion, we really have no reason to stay married. “Hey, when do most law firms announce promotions and stuff?”

If Ethan’s surprised by the question, he hides it well. “Our firm announces publicly in the next two weeks, before the month is over. Huxley & Webber do, too. Don’t know about other firms.”

“You sure about Huxley & Webber?”

“Oh yeah. Rivals,” he says. “We all know about each other so we can rub it in each others’ faces.”

“Oh. That’s…soon.” I thought—I was hoping—it wasn’t for another month or two…or a couple of years. I clear my throat. “Just in case… Um. Can you prepare for a divorce?”

This time an edge of surprise comes through. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just in case. Ares and I…might not have a reason to stay married anymore.” He might not become a partner, even though he seemed fairly certain all he needed was a respectful wife. I bite my lip, hating myself for wishing even for a second he wouldn’t get promoted. Just what kind of shitty person am I? I got what I wanted when I married Ares. I should want him to get everything he wants.

“Uh… Yeah. Of course. But maybe you should wait until you’re sure about it first. It’s not a cheap process. If you still want to proceed, I can start, though. Anyway, take a few days to think about it.”

We hang up, but my phone rings again soon. Wondering if Ethan forgot something, I answer it without checking the screen.

“Not bad, my dear,” comes Zoe’s voice, tinged with a hint of reluctant respect. “You’re much more resourceful than I expected.”

I stiffen. “A girl learns fast when she never had much to work with.” Thanks to people who turned a blind eye, like you.

“They aren’t going to pay for poisoning you, though. And how about their supplier? It’s someone fairly close to you. And me, of course.”

Is she implying Harvey was Doris’s poison dealer? And does she think I’ll believe her? A woman who drugs her son and leaves him in a forest alone is just as capable as Harvey of handing out poison for the right price. Thank God Ares has a wonderful stepmother in Akiko, and his father is sane. “I honestly don’t care, Zoe.”

“Don’t you want to know about your parents’ deaths?”

The air in my lungs freezes. I take a moment to gather myself. I can’t afford to show any cracks to Zoe. “The food poisoning?” Despite my resolve, my voice is shaky.

“Yes. Don’t you want to know if it was just bad luck…or something more sinister?” she says, drawing out each syllable.

My first gut reaction is yes. Unequivocally yes. I’d love to know if anybody played a hand in taking my family away from me. Then I’d love to make them pay.

And yet…

I clench the phone until my knuckles whiten. Zoe expects me to jump at this chance, especially when I’m riding high after dispatching Doris and her family.

Zoe’s doing this because it benefits her. She wants to dangle this in front of me and manipulate me. She wouldn’t have bothered otherwise, just like she looked the other way while Doris and her family abused me.

Loathing and resentment surge inside. I draw in air slowly to calm the churning emotions. As much as I’d love to know the truth, I’m never going to give Zoe any power over me. Mom and Dad aren’t coming back. The only one with the motive to hurt them is Doris, and she’s already sitting in jail, awaiting trial. Even if she doesn’t get sentenced for poisoning my parents—assuming she actually did that—she’ll still rot in prison. “It doesn’t change the past,” I say coldly.

“Well, aren’t you the Machiavellian one? I like that about you. Sentimentality is so cheap.”

“Too bad, because I don’t like anything about you. By the way, what I said applies to you too. You can call and bug me all you want, but you’ll never have Ares’s respect and love again. He despises you.”

A sharp inhale, followed by a low hiss, full of venomous fury. If we were facing each other in person, she’d probably slap me. “Don’t get too cocky,” she sneers. “Do you honestly believe I have no reach outside of Nesovia? Do you think just because you’re in America, you’re untouchable?”

“Why not?”

“Don’t be so complacent, my child. In my experience, the most unexpected blows come just when you think you’re at your happiest.”