Chapter 4 The strangers identity
~~CHARLOTTE’S POV~~
My eyes fluttered open. The bright ray of sunlight peered in through the window.
I smiled. The memories of last night with him made me curl up in the sheets.
I giggled softly, but my smile faded as I turned and he wasn't there.
The bed was empty.
I quickly sat up, my heart racing; I had slept in his arms last night.
Did he leave?
Why didn't he tell me he was leaving?
Tears clouded my eyes.
I didn't know his name nor where he was from.
I pressed my fist against my chest. I felt used, but he didn't use me, did he? I asked for it, I consented, but yet it still hurts my heart that he would leave without a trace.
I quickly wiped my eyes as the door suddenly burst open and Mother stepped in.
“Did you forget you have chores to do? Come and do them before the car comes for you.”
My brow raised, “Car?”
She rolled her eyes, tucking her brown hair behind her ears. “Did you forget you signed a contract yesterday? “You are married now, you idiot,” she spat and marched out of the room.
My shoulders fell as my mind lingered on the man that had taken my flower last night.
Maybe that was how it should be, a one-night stand, one moment of pleasure before my life went down in flames.
Forcing myself to forget, I slowly slipped out of bed, changed into fresh clothes, and headed downstairs.
HOURS LATER
It was afternoon, and the car had come to pick me up. I had cleaned up the whole house. As I headed to the black Mercedes, my parents walked beside me, a fake smile on their faces.
“You better behave; you know what the consequences are if you don't,” Mother said through her teeth.
“Being a good wife will bring us good money to take us out of poverty; remember that, you roach,” my father spoke in a low tone.
I pressed my lips together, trying desperately to fight back the tears that threatened to come out.
I sat in the back of the car, my hands curled together as the car sped into the road, darting through traffic.
I gazed at my parents through the rearview mirror, and they stared at the car with a big smile on their faces. Who could blame them?. They would soon be rich.
They had lent me some of Mia's clothes, a pair of white sweaters and a white skirt to match.
The only time they gazed at me for something nice to wear was to make me a stronger believer that I was treated right.
About half an hour later we arrived at a big mansion; the large gates opened and the car sped in. The compound had flowers on each corner; in the middle was a water fountain the shape of a serpent, and through its mouth gushed out clean water.
Suspicious-looking men stood on each side of the building, guarding the place.
“What kind of man are you, Mr. Davenport?” I wondered.
As the driver, a man in his late fifties, stepped out of the car, I followed suit, my fingers clenched tightly as he led me to the mansion.
The mansion smelled of lavender, followed by the subtle smell of cigars. There was a long flight of stairs positioned on the far end of the mansion.
A man in his late twenties approached us, a stern look on his face. “Is this her?” He asked.
The driver nodded.
“I'm Leonard; follow me, and I'll show you to your bedroom.” Leonard spoke and turned around and led me upstairs.
I followed quickly, my knees buckling slightly as we walked past some men in black suits who stood like guards around the house.
Something about the house felt eerie.
A few seconds later we stopped at a door. “This will be your bedroom.” Leonard turned to face me. “You will not come out until the boss sends for you.”
My brow raised. “Boss?”
“Your husband,” he explained.
I reached for the doorknob and pulled it open, revealing a luxurious bedroom. In the middle was a gigantic bed, the kind my parents would never give me. Beside it were desks, each with beautiful roses; just like the entrance of the mansion, the room smelled like lavender.
My brow furrowed as I turned back to face Leonard. “Where is he? Mr. Davenport?”
“He will send for you,” Leonard responded with a stern look on his face; he shut the door, and the sound of his footsteps faded away.
I sighed deeply and walked deeper into the bedroom; there was a walk-in closet the size of a bedroom on the side.
How rich was this man exactly?
What did he look like?
~~Damien~~
"Fuck," I cursed through my teeth. I looked around the attic and saw no sign of Charlotte.
I had left early this morning because I feared that I would get addicted to her presence.
But fuck it all, all I could think of was her.
She was getting maltreated by her family, and I had to get her out of here.
But she's gone.
How?
“Ugh!” I heard a voice that sounded just like Charlotte groaned downstairs.
That must be her twin.
“Charlotte doesn't take that long to make dinner, Mom!” She snapped.
“I'm sorry, dear,” a woman's voice responded.
“Why did that bitch have to get married?” She hissed.
My head rang. Charlotte got…married?
I clutched my fist tight in anger.
Why didn't she tell me she was getting married?
Who was that bastard that married her?
I quickly turned around and jumped out of the window, heading straight for my car. I had to find out who married her and put a bullet through his head.
Charlotte was mine, and only mine.
A few minutes later I arrived at my mansion. I rushed in, taking off my red suit and tie.
“Mateo?! Mateo!” I barked.
Footsteps ran in my direction.
I turned around to see Mateo. “You are back,” he panted heavily.
“Charlotte… I need you to find her,” I spoke immediately.
Mateo’s brow furrowed. “Who? ...”
“Apt 3C, 114 Brookhaven Street, South Bronx—that's her address. I tried to find her, but she got married….”
“It's you…” I heard the soft sound of a lady's voice speak.
I slowly turned around, my lips parting in shock as my gaze caught Charlotte, dressed in a red silk nightdress, her hair tucked in a bun.
Her feet were bare as she stood before her door.
“It's you …” I said.
“Did you come here to save me?” She said with a smile on her face.
I dropped the jacket in my hand to the floor; without a word, I marched towards her, grabbed both sides of her face, and pressed my lips against hers.
She kissed me back, her tiny hands tightly clutching my hand as I pinned her against the door behind her.
I slowly pulled away from her, panting heavily.
“My parent
s married me off to a man… Mr. Davenport, I haven't met him yet. Can you get me out of here?”
A smile formed on the corner of my lips.
I stroked the strands of blond hair on her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear.
Letting out a sharp exhale, I spoke.
“I'm Damien… Damien Davenport.” The person opposite spoke in a low, melancholic voice.