Rouge: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Tattered Curtain Series)
Rouge: Act 2 – Scene 8

Kian

Seeing Lacey freak out about the fact that we’re now married is both satisfying and disappointing at the same time. When I thought about breaking the news, I assumed I would only feel triumphant. But there’s something in her expression right now that’s making me second-guess everything.

“Welcome… home?” she asks, slowly shaking her head. “No, Kian. No. This can’t happen. I need to go home. Like home home. Not here. I need to sign that marriage license. You don’t understand—”

“What do you mean you need to?” I ask, stepping forward. She stutters back at the same time and I stop in my tracks. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No. Of course not. I just… you know, have to sign the license and I want to leave.”

I study her face, taking in her flushed cheeks and the way she keeps glancing down at my damp chest. A smile crests my lips. She’s not afraid of me. She’s afraid to get close to me. I want to call her out on it, but the second half of her answer irritates me more.

“Vague answers aren’t going to get us anywhere, Lacey.”

“Okay, then. How about he’s my fiancé—”

“No… you’re married to me,” I say slowly. Her eyes keep flicking to my towel, so I rest my hand on the doorframe just above her head and wait with pleasure as her gorgeous blue eyes snap up to meet mine. “Monroe means nothing to you now.”

I didn’t mean for that to come out as a growl, but the way she shivers at my tone makes me think it didn’t scare her. Quite the opposite if her thighs squeezing together under that sinfully short dress is any indication.

But my wee tine doesn’t want to admit defeat. Her willingness to fight for what she wants is so refreshingly “un-Garde.” She straightens her back and glares up at me defiantly. This close, I can see the light dusting of freckles that pepper her nose and the apples of her flushed cheeks. I get the nearly irresistible need to strip her down so I can kiss each and every one that covers her body.

“I am not married to you and I’m not marrying you. According to the Garde, I can’t get married until my birthday—”

“Which started—” I look at my bare wrist as if I’m wearing my watch. “Nine hours ago.”

“How do you know my birthday?”

“Simple. It was our wedding date.”

She narrows her eyes. “Well, this is against the Garde contract my father brokered—”

“We were the original contract that your father broke. I’m doing him a favor by keeping him honest.”

“My father is honest! Your family is the one that broke the contract, not mine.”

That stops me. I cock my head to the side, but before I can demand she explain, she shakes her head.

“Look, I have to go. Let me just leave, okay?”

She turns within the minuscule amount of space I’ve given her, and her strawberry-blonde hair wafts her sweet floral scent up to me.

She rattles the handle and growls when it doesn’t budge. Her frustration is adorable.

“Open… dammit!”

“It won’t. It’s magnetized closed. It only works with a specially made key—”

“Give me the key then—”

“—And a code.” If she’s really fecking lucky, she might guess it. But that would mean she’d know my obsession truly started the moment she was promised to be mine.

She sneers at me over her shoulder. “A key and a code? Little much, don’t you think? What? Do you have enemies or something?”

“Yeah, your family.”

She rolls her eyes. “It was a rhetorical question. We’re Garde. We all have enemies.”

Her matter-of-fact delivery shocks me. My frustration leaks out, thickening my accent. “And you’re just okay with that? You don’t want to change it? Your father—”

“How about you just do yourself a favor and never talk about my father again, got it?”

I chuckle. “Oh, if you think this wee spicy attitude of yours will push me away, you’re dead wrong, tine.”

“God, stop calling me that! Also, why did you hide your accent last night? Why were you at my family’s business in the first place? That was supposed to be my night. Tolie and Roxy—”

Her eyes widen and the fight leaks out of her as she slouches with her back against the door.

“Were Tolie and Roxy in on it?”

Her defeated, monotone question almost makes me want to lie to her, but I won’t do her the disservice.

“Tolie’s one of my men. He’s on my family’s side.”

“But how? Why? I mean, he works for my father’s entertainment company. Does that mean nothing anymore? My mom’s been taking over the businesses. How did my mother not know?”

“Your mother has done a great job after your father fecked everything up for your family. But she can’t know everyone’s alliances all the time.”

“Alliances? What alliances? Tolie’s not even Garde!”

“He’s my friend. Outside the Garde, that comes first.”

“And inside the Garde?” Tears of anger well in her eyes. “What about Roxy?”

I drop my arm and back away a step. The move gives her space, but not so much that she can get around me. My fingers twitch to caress her cheek, but I resist the urge as I break down the role her friend played in all of this.

“Roxana’s father is a McKennon man. Your father lost the Muñoz after his first arrest.”

“That was… that was three years ago,” she whispers softly.

After a moment, she gives the information a slight nod. Her lower lip wobbles just once. But then she stiffens all over and her face completely blanks. It’s incredible to watch her swallow back her emotions better than any poker player I’ve ever seen. Incredible and devastating. Just like at a card table, I’ve already learned my opponent’s wee tells, but right now, she’s almost unreadable.

“Did she know…” She flings her arm out to the papers I set aside. “Did she know you were going to kidnap me and force me to marry you?”

“I didn’t force you to do anything.”

“You drugged me, Kian. I hardly remember the rest of the night after we slept together.”

“I think the combination with alcohol—which I didn’t realize you’d had so much of until Roxana informed me afterward—might be what’s affecting your memory the most. The drug I used is an under-the-radar concoction that is specifically created to only act as a mild sedative and a truth serum. At harmful doses, the sedative can be too much and cause death, but—”

“Death?!”

“—but at the dosage I gave you, all it did was keep you relaxed and truthful.”

“Truthful my ass. I would’ve never married you last night if I wasn’t under the influence of something. Now answer me. What did Roxy know?”

Feck, I love this fire in her, but she’s raging with me right now and I won’t be able to reason with her soon if she keeps getting angrier. A few unbidden ideas come to mind—ways I could calm her down–but I’ll wait and try those if my words fail.

“All Roxana knew was that I needed you at Rouge without bodyguards so I could meet you before you got married and it was too late. She didn’t know the extent of my plan. Hell, I didn’t even know which way things would go until we started dancing.”

“How did you not know? Wasn’t this all your idea?”

“The job wasn’t just my idea. But how I executed it was all me.”

“And why on earth would you go about it like that? You could’ve stolen me off the street if you’d wanted.”

“Actually—” I cross my arms and lean against the wall. She follows the movement with a flush in her cheeks, tinting color to the blank mask she’s trying so hard to wear. “—you’re harder to get alone than you think. Before Vegas, your bodyguards were everywhere. Here, Monroe’s bodyguards have been your shadow. Rouge was the first place I could get you alone. My mother made sure I learned ballroom dancing and I’m trained in mixed martial arts, so the simple routine Tolie choreographed for me wasn’t hard to pick up. No one would’ve ever expected a McKennon to be on that stage. What happened after we started dancing was… improvised.”

“What was supposed to happen, then?” Her brow furrows, but I can see the gears turning in her head. “You were… you were supposed to kill me. Weren’t you?” She huffs a laugh and shakes her head. “Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said things could’ve been worse.”

“I made some executive decisions to avoid it.”

“So… it was either murder or marriage, huh? No in-between?”

“There were a few options somewhere in the middle that I could’ve chosen from. But I picked my favorite.”

“How does your dad feel about your decision? I’m assuming the McKennon put out the hit.”

She’s so nonchalant about it she could be casually asking how my father feels about the weather. I didn’t want to tell her this part of our twisted love story, but as the Keeper’s daughter, she was bound to figure it out.

“Killing the O’Shea’s only possible chance to produce a male heir would’ve hurt the Keeper and the O’Shea name the most.”

“So it’s only natural that the order would be given from the head of the family that hates us the most.”

“Naturally.” I shrug. I’m trying to match her complacency, but I’m pissed. There’s so much about this organization that I want to change, but she seems to accept their faults as immovable truths.

“So what about the priest and judge? Were they just up at that hour out of the goodness of their hearts?”

“That, and they’re McKennon men.”

“You guys have just converted everyone, haven’t you? And the witnesses? Are they McKennon men, too?”

I can’t help my chuckle. “You’d be surprised how many old women just hang out at midnight chapels so they can witness true love in the flesh.”

“True love?”

“There are crazier love stories,” I tease, enjoying her scowl. I push off the wall to rest my forearm on the doorframe right beside her head again, caging her in. “You know, the rest of our lives are going to be pretty entertaining if you’re this easy to wind up.”

The glint in her eyes tells me she lets herself imagine that life for a split second, but then she crosses her arms like a barrier against me and rolls her eyes instead.

“Great, just great. I’m not only allegedly married to a lunatic, he’s a romantic lunatic.”

“Settle down, tine. It’s not that bad. We were supposed to get married anyway. Just switch the groom. What’s the harm?”

“What’s the harm?! Oh, right. You don’t know because you know nothing about me. What everyone else sees isn’t the real me—”

“I know. The woman you are when no one is watching is exactly why I chose marrying you instead of killing you.”

Her eyes flare with curiosity before narrowing again.

“Well, whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. Just like you’re wrong about whatever you think happened last night. I’m marrying the Baron and he’s made it very clear that it has to happen today or not at all.”

“What a lucky woman you are that your fiancé could find time in his busy schedule to marry you. You know most people plan around a wedding, not vice versa. You should marry the man who makes every effort to be with you rather than treat you like an appointment.”

“Like trick me, kidnap me, and force me to marry him instead?”

“Better to be obsessed over than ignored,” the admission that I’m obsessed with her is a wee bit more than I wanted to confess, and it’s made worse by the possession dripping in my voice.

Her pretty pink lips part and frustration makes her breaths come in pants, nearly spilling her breasts from her corset. The view makes my cock ache. I finally give in and brush my fingers down her cheek as I murmur the question that’s been on my mind since I heard her say, “I do.” She leans into my palm by a fraction, giving me hope.

“Last night, you said you could love a man like me. What’s stopping you now that you know who I am?”

Her voice is just a whisper when she answers me. “I also said I don’t believe in love. Loving someone doesn’t mean you should get married. In the Garde, marriages… they’re just transactions.”

“Grand. Consider this one transaction in exchange for another.”

She groans. “God, I wish it were that easy.”

“It can be, if you let it.”

“Going along with this will be dangerous.”

“I’ll be able to keep you safe, Lacey.”

Worry pinches between her eyes as she shakes her head. “My safety isn’t the only thing that matters.”

“It is to me.”

There’s a silence like I caught her by surprise. Her face softens as she steps into me and I think I’ve possibly changed her mind.

“Then let me go, Kian. That’s the only way to keep me safe in this situation.”

What the hell?

My jaw clenches and I drop my hand. She’s obviously trying to manipulate me by putting on this saccharine-sweet act, but why?

“Look, if you’re really concerned about what will happen if Monroe finds out, I can protect you.”

“Protect me? How?” She falls back and scoffs. “Other than the Muñozes, you have no support from the Garde. No inheritance. If you have nothing, you are nothing.”

Anger wells up in my chest. “So you’ve bought into the Garde’s measure of worth, hmm? That’s disappointing. Maybe I’ll just say feck it all, then, and send Monroe our wedding video—”

“No, you can’t!” She grabs my forearm and her nails dig into my skin. “Kian, please, you can’t tell him, at least not yet.”

That confirms it. She may have been furious with me before, but at my threat, Lacey’s wide eyes shine with tears, the rosy complexion in her cheeks has paled, and she’s clinging to me like a lifeline. It makes me want to gather her up and tuck her back into our bed so I can utterly destroy anyone who has instilled even an ounce of this fear in her.

“Lacey… I know there’s more to this than you’re telling me, so I’m going to ask again. Why do you have to sign that contract? Your father’s impending trial aside, he’s still the Keeper, and you’re the Garde’s rare flower, effectively our princess. Make your own damn rules. Feck knows I did last night.”

I try to soften my frustrated delivery with a smirk, but she looks more defeated than before and slumps against the door. With my arms caging her in like this, the position makes me feel oppressive. I like to be in charge, but I don’t have to swing my dick around to prove it.

Stepping back once more, I don’t give a feck that she can see my towel tenting around my thickening cock. Even though my chest aches at seeing her distressed, I can’t help the effect her body has on the rest of me.

Her pale cheeks pinken as her eyes dart down.

“Jesus,” she mutters and her eyes snap back up to mine. “The rules aren’t for me to change, alright? Only a man on the outs with the Garde would think I have a say in anything. I have to marry the Baron and I don’t want to start off by disappointing him—”

I snort. “He’s a Garde nobody who’s trying to achieve his political aspirations by marrying our society’s highest-ranking daughter—who’s gorgeous, witty, and nearly two decades his junior, I’ll add. How the feck could he be disappointed? And why would you care? Do you love him or something?”

“Of course not. We can’t stand each other. I’ve heard the stories. The Baron is a man who will discard me for a better model once he’s used me up, if not before that.”

The disgust on her face pleases me to no end, but her words make me furious. If she knows what Monroe’s capable of and how he treats women, why would she agree to marry him? Even now, after I’ve saved her from a life with him, she’s still pushing back.

“Then is it a silly engagement ring that you want?” I ask, already knowing that can’t be the reason, but hoping it riles her up enough to answer. “If so, I can buy you another, easy.”

“Silly jewelry? It’s a seven-million-dollar ring!”

“Exactly. Did he really have to try that hard to get you to marry him? All I had to do was dance.” The smirk I’ve been trying to contain pushes its way back onto my face before I can quash it again.

She scoffs. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Let’s recap, then, shall we?” I go through my assessment, ticking each point off with my fingers. “You can’t stand him. You don’t want his money. You know he’s only using you. So what is it that Monroe has over you, then?” Fear flickers over her face again and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. “What transaction can be so important that you’re willing to marry a man who would kill you just as soon as he would fuck you?”

“Isn’t that the kind of man you are?”

I hold back a grimace and try to adopt a nonchalant expression.

“Maybe, but I’ve made my choice. Don’t make me regret it.” If threatening her is the only way to get the truth, I’ll try anything right now.

Her scowl drops from her face and despite the fact that I intended to throw her off balance, her first hint of uncertainty toward me makes my heart seize.

“Well, at least you had a choice,” she finally grumbles.

Those few words nearly knock me off my feet. I try to recall the cards she’s played so far during our argument and try to guess which ones she still holds close to her chest. I know the Garde can be overbearing with its women, but wouldn’t she at least have a say in something as important as who she gets to marry? Or has she only been working with the hand she’s been dealt?

“When your father discussed you marrying Monroe, what did you say?”

Her face screws up. “What do you mean?

“When your father asked you if you wanted to marry Monroe… what was your answer?”

She crosses her arms and avoids looking me in the eyes. “I was never asked, okay? I was told and that was that. There was never a discussion.”

Anger rises in my chest just as anxiety filters through my mind. “And what about me? Were you able to choose me?”

Her brow furrows. “What does that matter?”

“Everything you say matters. Tell me, Lacey.” Her breath hitches as I tip her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Were you able to choose me?”

“Yes.” Her whispered answer warms the worry freezing my veins and air finally enters my lungs again. “My dad told me you were a candidate. Then I got to meet your mother, who was… God, she was amazing. I loved meeting her. So with you, I was given a choice and I said yes. But with the Baron? I-I was told.”

Emotions swirl inside me and I’m not sure which one to hang on to.

I’ve learned more about Lacey in the last fifteen minutes than a year of obsessing over her as my mark. I thought she played a part in choosing Monroe as her husband, but I was wrong. She’s always been under lock and key, and apparently, she’s spent her whole life committing minor infractions almost like it’s a game, pulling at her leash until she’s threatened with a cage.

Last night was her final act of rebellion before she was trapped forever, and I stole that from her. I don’t want to trap her, but if I’m going to keep her safe, I have to play the game she’s been taught and call her bluffs to help us both win the hand.

“Why were you supposed to marry Monroe and not me, then? What hold does he have over you? Tell me so I can help you.”

She shakes her head slowly. “It’s more than just a mere business deal. He’s… he’s supposed to do something and I… I don’t want to interfere.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Stop being so vague and talk to me. I’ll keep your secrets, tine, I swear.”

She opens her mouth to answer, but it clamps closed, and that anger heats her eyes again. Something I said has set her off again, but I’m not sure what.

“No, you don’t get to kidnap me, force me to marry you, and steal my secrets too. If you were looking for a pliant wife in me, you were sorely mistaken.”

“Interesting, so you were willing to be a pliant wife for Monroe, then? Because I can assure you, I was never looking for a cardboard cutout of a Garde wife. I don’t want to tame you, I want to free you.”

The buzz of a mobile interrupts us. She digs into her pocket like the device will explode if she doesn’t answer in time. When she reads the caller ID, she takes a deep breath of relief.

Who the feck is she that relieved to talk to? Is it the bastard her family chose over mine?

Before she answers, jealousy takes over, and I snatch the mobile from her grasp to answer it.

“Kian, no!” She lunges from the door, but I grasp her neck with my free hand and squeeze. She immediately relaxes underneath my hold and doesn’t try to fight me off. A small moan escapes her with a delicious gasp that vibrates underneath my palm.

Interesting.

My thumb releases from the side of her neck and I graze the smooth skin as I look at the caller ID.

Mom.

Well, that’s anticlimactic.

“I’ll let you answer this,” I loosen the rest of my fingers just enough for her to speak. “But only to tell her that congratulations are in order.”

“Kian, I can’t do that. I’m supposed to meet her at the courthouse.”

“Well, then, tell her you’re all out of fresh marriage licenses.” The corner of my mouth ticks upward as a grin tries to break free.

“If I tell her I’m married to anyone but the Baron, my entire family is ruined!”

I want to shout that her father already tried to ruin my family and we’ve been clawing our way back up ever since. But tears brim her eyes, making them sparkle like gemstones and I can’t bear to see my strong queen of diamonds cry, no matter the reason.

“If marrying a McKennon is as ruinous as you believe, go ahead. Answer.” The caustic words hiss out of me as I hand her mobile back. “I’d love to see what lie you come up with to tell my new mother-in-law. Don’t forget to set up a brunch date.”

I release her and step back to lean against the couch, propping my hands on its leather arm.

She eyes me warily with a hint of confusion. At what, I don’t know, but I stop overanalyzing entirely when she answers and Moira O’Shea shrieks like a banshee into the receiver.

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