Page 10 of Give It a Day (Song-Smith #1)

My father chuckles along with her. “And Kayla, don’t think we didn’t notice your resistance .” At my father’s words, Kayla pouts deeper. His eyes twinkle with what I imagine is in my eyes as well—amusement.

Then my mother presents a flat and wide black box. “This is a wedding gift from us. Open it, dear.” She smiles encouragingly at me, while Kayla has been remarkably well-behaved.

I look down at her as she unenthusiastically says, “Thanks?” She stares at the box, not moving since I’m still tightly keeping her in my arms, so I open the box for her.

Inside the box is a beautiful bracelet. It’s delicate yet solid, a chain of intertwined silver links gleaming faintly even in the dim light. The craftsmanship is ostentatious. Each link in the bracelet seems forged with the intention of binding something more than mere metal.

“It was my grandmother’s,” my mother explains in a softened voice with a faint yet forlorn smile. “A family heirloom of sorts. The charm attached to it is a rose.”

Kayla sighs in my arms again, this time softly and sadly, as if mirroring the subdued tones of my mother.

“That’s…really sweet. I’ll do my best to cherish it.

” But the words feel empty, in my opinion.

I suppose she didn’t agree to this marriage, and as much as the gift is thoughtful, she must think it’s only a small attempt to win her over.

My expression darkens at her lackluster response, my arms tightening around her waist even more, pinning her elbows at her sides.

“I’m sure you will,” I say firmly. My voice comes out with a hidden threat, something I’m quite excellent at expressing.

My fingers trace the bracelet in the box, noticing the subtle thorns around the rose charm.

This charm suits her—alluring yet dangerous to touch if I’m not careful enough.

Though, I’d let her thorns rip right through me if it means having her.

And now, I do. She’s all mine.

Both of our respective parents leave, hers more in a hurry than mine.

My parents excuse themselves politely to prepare the reception, while Kayla’s father simply exits, and her mother quickly mutters that there are important matters of business to attend to but that she’s proud of her daughter.

That comment made Kayla relax in my hold.

The priest took his leave during all of that, leaving me alone with my new wife.

“We should prepare for the reception too,” I simply say.

“Ugh…” Kayla’s shoulders sag. “Can we just skip the reception?”

I smirk, laughing, short and light. “That eager for the honeymoon?”

Kayla rolls her gorgeous eyes as I free her hand to fasten the bracelet around her wrist. She mumbles, scowling adorably again at me, “Damon, really?”

“It looks perfect on you.” My thumb brushes over the bracelet, my touch lingering on her soft skin. “And no, we can’t skip the reception. Our families have put a lot of effort into it.”

“You mean, criminals and other sketchy people we know will be there, and we have to schmooze them?” I pull her out of the church and into my car we were in earlier.

“Among others.” I chuckle, pushing her into the car, and I hear her whine as I walk around to get into the driver’s seat. When I start the car, I look over and wonder why she isn’t running. She could. I’d still find her, but she could.

The edge of my lips curls up faintly when I put both hands on the steering wheel, and then start driving us to where the reception will take place—my newly inherited estate, a recent acquisition, or more accurately a bribe, to get me to play husband.

It’s a quiet drive for a while until she speaks up, “This is really happening, isn’t it?” There it is . The gravity of the situation has dawned on her.

“As real as the ring on my finger.”

As we approach my estate, I can see the winding road that leads to the tall stone walls I’ve become incredibly familiar with.

I grew up in this place and run our business here from time to time.

But now, it’s all mine. And so is she. I smirk when I watch Kayla in my peripheral vision. She’s in awe, as she should be.

The vast estate comes into fuller view as I slow down into the long driveway.

My property spreads out in front of us, every part of it completely mine.

I’ve ensured that everything in my property is perfect, with no ivy in sight on the ivory brick walls of my mansion.

Only finely trimmed hedges and tall vases of fresh flowers decorating the vast front lawn.

Their fragrance is always a welcome sensation.

For my new wife’s arrival, I made the housekeepers plant fresh roses and jasmine overnight, their subtle scent filling the air as I park, then exit my car to come around and open Kayla’s door for her.

Along with requesting decorations, I ordered for more security. Armed guards are lined up across the perimeter, ensuring my wife’s safety. I’ve been told she’s a high-priority target for a lot of people.

Thrilling .

Ironically, right now, Kayla looks adorable.

She doesn’t hide her expression when she takes in the property with awe.

I do the same, unable to stop myself from looking at her but trying to keep my usual stoic look.

I’m not one to give everything about me away, but it’s hard not to smile with my wife’s beauty out on display before me, the sun shining a golden amber light around her.

With the slight part of her lips and the sound of her breath hitching—reminding me of the lovely sounds she made when she was under me—I realize I want to show her everything she owns, now that she’s mine. The mansion, the vineyard behind it, the cliffside view over the water. Everything .

I must be looking for way longer than I planned for. I’m not trying to be obvious with how much she’s affecting me, but she subtly looks down, adjusting her dress.

“Hey, can I get out of this dress?”

“That eager to get naked in front of me again?”

She rolls those dazzling eyes of hers, then glares at me, which only makes me smile. “You sure are charming,” she mutters under her breath, but I hear it loud and clear.

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint my wife.” I wrap my arm around her waist, guiding her toward the opened double doors. As we approach the entrance, I pause and turn to her, my expression turning serious.

She fidgets with the charm on her bracelet as she looks up at me expectantly.

There’s a shine in her eyes that I’m not good at placing.

It feels like she wants to give me an earful again—that she hates we’re in this position, that she feels cornered and hurt by our families, and then I dared call her wife while the wound is still fresh.

“Listen.” My voice carries a mix of urgency and tenderness. My other hand reaches up to trace her cheekbone with my thumb. “I know this isn’t how you wanted this day to go.”

She looks into my eyes, understanding that we’ve both been forced into this arranged marriage, but I’m well aware that I also dragged her into it and didn’t let her escape when she asked.

“But…” Seeing the unspoken turmoil in her eyes, I still say, “I need you to put on a happy face for the next few hours. Laugh, mingle, smile, pretend like you’re the happiest wife in the world.”

Her jaw clenches. My unwavering gaze dares her to say no.

Go ahead, little bird, make this fox work for his dinner. You’ll taste better that way.