Deviant Vows by Anna Widzisz
CHAPTER EIGHT
Davina
If looks could kill, there would have been at least a hundred bodies all over the floor by now. I’m not the person to care about other peoples opinions much because they are of no importance to me. They don’t know me and they aren’t someone I take advice from. So why bother?
However, ever since Macsen has left with that godforsaken girl, whom I, unfortunately, know all too well, it’s increasingly hard to ignore other guests. I haven’t seen him in the last hour and people are starting to notice. What’s worse, they are starting to talk, and I can only imagine that the words ‘cheating,’ ‘other woman,’ and ‘fool’ are used quite a lot. I am to appear strong and powerful because that’s who I am. No man should ever define me. Though, this is what getting married does – puts you in the spotlight. Not because of you as a person, but because of the relationship that you’re in. Needless to say, I hate it with all my heart.
This is why I learnt from a young age not to rely on a man. They are useless and fucking annoying. Macsen has just proven me right by choosing to act on a whim. And with no other than the mayor’s daughter. The disrespect has reached a critical level for me. One that I can hardly take and, I’m not proud of it, but when William comes up to me with one of our new investors, I excuse myself and walk out of the main ballroom and up the stairs in search of a bathroom.
Gripping onto the sink countertop, I inhale and exhale heavily. I take off the mask and look at myself in the mirror. I feel nothing but rage emerging. I am madder at myself than at Macsen for losing control over my own emotions. All it took was one stupid fucking stunt and I can’t help but feel this sudden jealousy over a fucker like him.
But with tonight turning into some sick joke, I find Olivia stepping inside the bathroom just a few minutes later. When she sees me, she smiles. And I wish to slit her lips so that they stretch into a smirk in a Glasgow smile.
Thanks to my husband.
She approaches me and takes off her mask, placing it on the countertop before checking herself in the mirror. Running her fingers along her hair, she turns her face left and right as if she considers herself some sort of Miss Universe. Can she be any more pathetic?
Not having any more patience to even tolerate such bullshit, I turn around to walk away but her words stop me from leaving.
“You know this won’t last forever,” she mutters. I look over my shoulder and meet her eyes in the mirror. She merely glances at me, shrugging, then turns to face me. “Everyone knows your marriage with Macsen is just a deal. There will never be any connection between you two.”
Her eyes flash with nothing more but a simple acknowledgement. As if her trying to get together with Macsen hasn’t been on her radar. Or at the very least the main purpose.
She looks over my dress and shakes her head. “I mean, wear all the expensive dresses you want, put on the best makeup you can but your ugliness is still seen by everyone. Not to mention the cruelty. The executioner,” she adds.
I remain silent, not even bothering with her pitiful insults. If she thinks I’m one of her posh friends who cries like a baby, then she definitely doesn’t know me well. I’ve also heard worse from men. Having power has never been something a woman should aim for. I reached and grabbed it by the roots. So if I don’t listen to them, then catty women aren't a reason to waste my time either
“And that scar on your neck,” she starts, and I feel my shoulders tensing up a bit. Memories I don’t want to recall start to emerge just at the mention. “It’s disgusting to think a girl in your circle can wear it and not even put a hint of makeup over it. It’s impure and as a society girl you should know that.”
Maintaining a calm demeanour, I saunter towards her. I am a little taller so she has to look up to meet my eyes. And what an experience it must be because I can only imagine that all the disgust I feel inside can be seen on my face.
However, her insults are short-lived as I observe her confidence dropping low. Offering her a cold and heartless smile that I only reserve for my enemies, her smile instantly wipes away from her lips. Her throat is bobbing as she swallows from sudden nervousness.
Oh, I’ve only just started, darling.
“I was hoping you would come up with better insults. What a disappointment.”
I run my fingertip along the loose strand of her hair with her eyes following my movement.
“I don’t need to hear your worthless words. And I couldn’t care less what you think is the right thing to do for women and whatnot. Every single one of us is a manipulative bitch. I just have the guts to do it out in the open. Show what I’m worth and that no man defines me. You just hide behind your daddy’s money, and however many times you and Macsen have fucked.”
I cup her chin, tilting her head back, watching fear gradually take upon her.
“As for my scar,” I begin, putting pressure on my hold and digging my nails in her skin. “I’m not a pampered bimbo who thinks a fucking scar is a reason to fake it. My worth has nothing to do with what I’ve been through. So I suggest you stop wasting your time pointing out what you think is so bloody wrong with me and start looking for a rich husband. One that will never think to look past your beauty because that’s all you can offer,” I spit out the words like venom.
Olivia tries to pull away from my hold, but I am nowhere near done. With viper speed, I sneak my hand behind her head and grip her hair. Her face scrunches in pain as she tries to pry my hands away.
“Ah! What the hell are you doing? Stop!” she cries out loud. I turn her face harshly so that she is facing the mirror, caging her hands with mine so they rest behind her.
“Here’s my cruelty. The one you mentioned. I don’t care who you are and I’ll fucking wreck you with a single wave of a hand. As if I am swatting a motherfucking fly. You know why?” I pause. “Because unlike you, I make sure to be at least as strong as the other people in the room with me. If not more. You rely on those snakes to save you,” I mutter and I notice her eyes glistening. I know it hurts her roots as I yank her hair.
“My father won’t tolerate–”
I roll my eyes. “Have you not heard a word I said? I don’t give a single bloody fuck about your father. He works for us. Not the other way around. So if you want him to keep his position, and never stop buying you all those dresses, you’ll never tell him.”
She trembles as I let go of her. She opens her lips to say something but decides against it.
“But you can go to him. I’d actually want to watch him dismiss you once you say how cruel I am. As if he doesn’t know that already.”
Tears stream down her cheeks. She starts to sob from the pain and humiliation, but I don’t feel even an ounce of pity for a bitch like her. What’s more, I find it to be a highlight of today.
I lean close to her ear. “Stay away from my husband or next time you will meet the executioner in me and later I’ll throw you at your father’s doorstep with a little present for him. Understand?”
She nods stiffly. “I understand. Please let me go,” she whispers.
I shrug. “As you wish.”
Before she can even blink, I slam her head against the mirror. She screams and falls to the floor, blood running from her newly gained cuts. Her hands come up as she grips her head. The wail of agony sounds in the bathroom, and probably well beyond it. However, I’m not so sure it’s because of pain. I believe it to be the least of her worries. It’s what she’s going to look like now.
“Here’s one blemish you can start your collection with.” I smirk. “Some men like it really rough, love. You need to be prepared to get more of that at some point.”
She’s not able to look at me. But that’s how I like it. Having her humble arse in front of me so the next time we meet she will bow.
“It was nice seeing you, Olivia,” I say with a polite smile and take my mask as I walk out of the bathroom, following the soft music playing downstairs. Hopefully, I’ll be able to go back home soon. But at least I’m going to actually enjoy the rest of the night when I don’t have to look at that foolish girl.
As I look around the ballroom, I notice Macsen engaged with a group of men. Those he is used to playing poker with every Friday night. Yes, I’ve done my research. I have no interest in even looking at him. So, I make my way to the bar and order drinks. One after another, drowning my rage and jealousy in alcohol. Thankfully, Arya keeps me company.
✽✽✽
We haven’t approached the subject for the rest of the night. Hell, we haven’t even spoken a word beyond Macsen asking me if I’m ready to leave. This is how our lack of communication works. And usually, I wouldn’t care at all, but we’re not only life partners now but also business ones. As much as I can do without him on a daily basis; eat breakfast, go to the gym, and run some errands, I cannot overlook how our business arrangements that we established on the night of our meeting in Macsen’s hotel have been pushed aside. I’ve forgone a percentage of my fighting ring, and he’s given me the Italian chain restaurant but nothing else happened. And as the one to care about details, it drives me crazy.
Especially when I go into the kitchen the next morning and meet Theo and Macsen talking through their budget and other financial decisions. As soon as they see me, their conversation cuts off and they stare at me with their emotionless expressions. Feels like the day of our wedding. Almost as if I were an intruder, when I can bet that some of the decisions they are making are something I should be a part of. But I decide to let it go.
Pulling the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands, I head to the coffeemaker. “Don’t stop on my account.”
“I think it’s better. We don’t want to end up like the mayor's daughter, now do we?” Theo snarls and I immediately snap my head in their direction, my eyes flashing with the fire that’s burning up my whole body.
I look at Theo at once, but in the corner of my eye, I see Macsen’s confusion. I guess it’s not common knowledge yet what happened between me and Olivia yesterday. Although, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. With the way she must look right now, people are bound to ask questions.
“What do you mean?” Macsen asks his brother but he’s focused on me as if waiting for any sign of weakness. But I don’t regret what I’ve done. The sooner she learns who’s the boss and that she should be afraid of me the better. I don’t let men order me around, and sure as hell, I won’t let a nobody like Olivia do it.
I shrug, not caring enough to explain.
“She’s been beaten up pretty badly during the ball. She has a few deep cuts from mirror pieces and they required stitches. Her father called me to say that he needs further investigation into who dared to do it to his daughter.”
I roll my eyes, wishing it could show the level of my annoyance. “I can call him and admit to fucking up Olivia’s face. No problem,” I say, reaching for the phone in the back pocket of my jeans.
Macsen stands from his chair and slams his hands on the countertop. His eyes flare with fury and his lips quiver as words escape them. Most definitely none of them are even remotely civilized.
“Were you this butthurt over me dancing with Olivia that you had to make a show out of it?” he yelled, getting in my face. I don’t flinch or bat an eye.
Instead, the corners of my lips curve into a smirk. “Don’t get so ahead of yourself. I couldn’t care less what you’re doing with her as long as you don’t make a fool out of me. Not to mention that she clearly doesn’t know her place when it comes to who I am. And who I am is her worse fucking nightmare.”
“I’m working with her fucking father, Davina! What am I supposed to do now? Tell him that my unhinged wife didn’t like something and decided to rearrange his daughter’s face?”
“If you’re asking me, she probably looks better now anyway,” I tell him, taking a sip of coffee as if it doesn’t faze me. “I told you that I will gladly confess. He won’t do shit because he needs our support.” I put pressure on the word ‘our’ because Macsen clearly forgets that his business deals are no longer just his. At least some of them.
“Just like you confessed to what really went down in the Quarter?” asks Theo, and any restraint I had disappears. Mentioning that day to me is something close to a death wish. Just like calling me an executioner.
Everyone always thinks of how I went on a killing spree on the directors in the Firm, starting the war. How I killed them. But they don’t know my reasons so they labelled me an executioner. As if I’d had nothing to make them pay for.
I had plenty.
I don’t waste time and close the distance between me and him, grabbing his throat and slamming him against the kitchen counter, which takes him by surprise. My thumb presses against his larynx to limit his breathing but he sneaks his leg around mine and moves it, making me fall on my arse. The rage is seething in me to the point that I grab a glass vase from a nearby table and throw it at him. Though he’s quick enough to dodge it and the vase breaks into pieces against the wall.
I raise my hand. “Don’t you ever talk about the Quarter incident with me. Or anyone else for that matter. I don’t fucking care what you believe and think, but make me a liar once again and you’ll taste exactly what those fuckers in the Quarter did.”
I take a step towards Theo but Macsen stands in my way, blocking my view of his brother. His hands come to my face, cupping my cheeks. But it’s not a loving gesture. It’s a rude awakening that this conversation has the potential to end badly. And I usually don’t let myself go that far, keeping calm.
“At least your brother-in-law didn’t have the pleasure of being killed by you there,” he says, and anger boils within me. I can still deal with the Seven against the Quarter war that I’ve unleashed. Mentioning Taylor who was a boss just like me before, my sister's late husband, is a whole other thing that makes my spirit die at once.
I bite my lower lip and close my hands into fists to rain in the shaking. “Going back to the past is a waste of time. And we were talking about Olivia. I’ll call her father first thing I get to my office. Not that he’ll do anything about it but apologise to me.” And with that, I head out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand. But then I hear a soft stomping against the tiles and my head snaps back. My eyes are met with a pair of black ones, staring at me from across the kitchen. A black Doberman is looking at me with curiosity, then at the broken glass on the floor and at Macsen.
I follow his movement and glance at Macsen as well for an explanation. Does Theo have a dog and brought him here?
“Davina, this is Hellion,” he says, tilting his head, and the dog at once runs up to him, sitting down at his legs. “He’s my dog.”
Wait. Hold on a minute.
I’ve been living here for a while now, yet I’ve never seen this dog.
“How?” I ask, frowning.
“Theo took him in for a little bit so you could get used to the penthouse first. Hellion doesn't really like people. He wouldn’t react well to a stranger suddenly moving in.”
I can understand that. I wouldn’t like it either. Which is why I agreed to make the move myself. A mere thought of Macsen walking around my house would make me close my hand around my knife.
“Just be careful. Mostly just don’t make any sudden moves when he’s around or raise your voice. He’ll feel threatened and attack you.”
I arch my eyebrow. “Did you decide to bring him back to have this advantage over me? He won’t do anything to you as you’re his master, but he’ll rip me to shreds in a heartbeat.”
Maybe Hellion is actually a good name for him. Maybe he’s the kind to unleash hell with a simple flame.
No matter, I move towards him and kneel on the floor a little from him, reaching out my hand. At first, he’s cautious, looking at Macsen for any guidance but seeing as I’m not moving, he takes steps towards me until he can sniff my hand. He’s careful, that’s for sure. But something tells me that he sees in me exactly what I hide from everyone else. This soft side. One that I’ll never spare for a person but won’t mind showing it to animals.
Soon he starts to lick me.
I smile slightly and look up at Macsen and Theo. Both are utterly surprised and speechless. I guess it doesn’t happen all that often. Or never. Without a word, I pat Hellion on the head and get up to leave the room. I still have work to do.