Girl Wife Prisoner Page 10

  “Why won’t you let me go anywhere?”

  “And I don’t appreciate your yelling.”

  I leaned over to him, right in his ear, and screamed, “Why won’t you let me leave this fucking house?”

  Drake launched to his feet, his chair scraping back from him.

  I choked on a breath as he kicked my chair out from under the table. He placed his hands on the arms of my chair, his eyes glittering with anger as he bent down over me. I pressed back into the chair.

  “There are people outside these walls who would wish to hurt me,” he ground out. “They’d use anything against me. Even you. Especially you, wife.”

  “Drake I was just−”

  “Now…you will sit here and you will finish your dinner and I won’t hear another damn word from you about it, are we clear?”

  All I could do was stare at him, his face dominating my view, his nostrils flaring, one of the veins in his temple pulsating, the tendons on his neck straining. There was a kind of madness in his eyes.

  He leaned closer. My head hit the chair back.

  “Are. We. Clear?”

  I nodded quickly.

  He pushed back up off the arms of my chair and straightened up. His eyes were still glossy but his face had relaxed. “You have to understand, Riko,” he said, his voice calmer, soothing yet patronizing. “I’m not trying to keep you in here. I’m trying to keep them away from you. I’m trying to keep you safe. Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand,” I said, my voice hollow.

  “Good.” Drake brushed his shirt front as he sat down again. He picked up his knife and fork and recommenced eating like nothing had happened. I sat stunned in my chair, feeling like I had been pinned to it like one of those poor butterflies in a glass display case.

  He looked over to me as he chewed his next mouthful. “You should eat, darling. Your food will get cold.”

  I stared at him. He was mad. He thought there were people out to get him. But I knew it was just an excuse.

  I do understand, Drake. You’ll never let me go. You’ll never let me leave. I’m a prisoner.

  14

  I was going to get outside of these walls. I just wanted to walk outside for a little while, revel in the freedom I had always taken for granted back home. I would come back. Like a trained pet I had to come back, I thought bitterly. I had nothing for me outside.

  It was only early evening but a thick gray blanket had kept out the sun for most of the day. The air was so thick with moisture I could feel it like cobwebs on my skin.

  I peered out from behind this tree trunk through the dim ghostly light to the front wall of Blackwell Manor, only a few meters away. The security lights were on already, like watery puddles over the dark ivy that clung to the inner walls. Under the ivy, the walls were made of thick blocks of limestone with razor-cut sides, laid down and mortared to create a flush façade. There were no handholds for me there. Not even finger holds.

  The gate loomed tall, at least three meters high, made up of thick slippery bars. It seemed to stare sternly back at me, I’m locked. Go back. You will never get past me.

  I could just make out the small intercom just inside the front gate. I remembered noticing it when I first entered in the limousine. Someone must be on the other end of the intercom with the power to control the gates. There must be a security room somewhere on these grounds. Maybe in the staff quarters. On the day I spent exploring the manor, when I had tried to enter the staff quarters I was promptly ushered out by Loretta.

  I glanced around me again to make sure nobody was watching. I slipped around the trunk and darted towards the wall, keeping close to the bushes that lined it. I slunk along the inside wall until I came to stand at the gate. I curled my fingers around the two closest bars and stared out. The lonely road stretched out along the manor, trees and ferns growing wild along the other side of it. Were those…cars parked farther along? Were those…people?

  “Look. There’s a girl.”

  The people I saw milling around on the edge of the road ran towards me, a blur of dark colors and lights. Something flashed in my eyes causing me to flinch back.

  “Who is she?”

  “Who are you?”

  I stumbled back from the gate as they fell upon the other side of the bars, their faces pressed, hands clutching the bars of the gate. More flashes went off and I winced, unsure of what I was seeing.

  “Mrs. Blackwell?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Are you the new Mrs. Blackwell?”

  A hand grabbed me and yanked me behind a solid back. I smelled a familiar woody aftershave. It was Keir. Everything would be alright now. I was safe.

  “Back off, guys,” Keir said. “This isn’t Mrs. Blackwell. This is Kiko, one of the new maids.”

  Kiko? I peered out from behind him, my hands on his warm, muscular back, at the people reaching through the bars towards us. They looked like crazed animals desperate to be fed and I was food.

  “Kiko, Kiko!”

  “Have you seen the new Mrs. Blackwell?”

  “Why is a maid wearing the latest Collette Dinnigan? She’s the new Mrs. Blackwell, isn’t she?”

  “Mrs. Blackwell! Mrs. Blackwell! Smile for the camera.”

  “How big is Drake?”

  “What’s Drake like in bed?”

  I shrank behind Keir. Who were those people? Were they even people? I had never been asked anything so blatant…so rude…

  “I told you she’s not Mrs. Blackwell,” Keir called out. He pushed me away from the gate, keeping himself between the hungry crowd and me.

  We kept walking along the bushes of the front wall, Keir’s hand on my shoulder directing me, until I couldn’t hear them anymore.

  He stopped and spun me to face him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I didn’t know they were there.”

  “They’ve got pictures of you now.”

  “I just wanted to look outside.”

  He took a deep breath. “It’s done now. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “Who were they?”

  “The paparazzi. Since word leaked out about Drake’s secret new wife, they’ve been camped outside. Sometimes the groups get smaller, sometimes they get bigger.”

  “Why are they here? What do they want with Drake?”

  He frowned. “You don’t know, do you?” he said slowly.

  “Know…what?”

  “Drake Blackwell has been on every Billionaire Bachelor of the Year list since he took over his father’s failing company and made it more successful than ever. They’re always hounding him. Everybody wants to know everything about him: what he eats, who he sees, and now, who he has married.”

  There are people outside these walls who would wish to hurt me. They’d use anything against me. Even you. Especially you, wife.

  Drake wasn’t just being paranoid.

  “Drake is, by last count,” Keir continued, “is one of the ten richest man in America.”

  “He’s…what?” I couldn’t even fathom how rich that must be. “I mean, I knew he was wealthy but… Are you sure?”

  “You really didn’t know?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t he tell you when you met him in Japan? Didn’t you look him up or something when you found out who he was?”

  “I…” What the hell do I say to that? I didn’t know anything about Drake, only that he was to be my husband and that he lived in California.

  “How long had you actually known Drake before you agreed to marry him?” Keir said through gritted teeth.

  “It was…a whirlwind courtship,” I said limply.

  Keir shook his head. I swear I could smell the disappointment emanating from him.

  “I did it for my father,” I snapped. Shit. I didn’t mean to let that slip.

  “You did what for your father?”

  “Nothing. Forget it.”

  His top lip curled up. “What kind of man would force his daughter to
marry someone for money?”

  “Force?” I inhaled. I’ve made it worse. Accusations scribbled across his face.

  Pimp.

  Whore.

  “My father…” my voice broke as the memories of him came flooding in; his kind face, his gentle encouraging brown eyes, his soft, salt and pepper beard that would tickle me when he kissed my cheeks. “My chichi is the greatest man I know. He’s kind, generous, and endlessly patience, especially with me.” Now that I was finally speaking about him I couldn’t seem to hold it back anymore. “He taught English at our local school, but he volunteered his free time, which wasn’t much with a wife and five daughters, to teach or tutor those who couldn’t afford to get an education. So don’t you even for a second dare to think that he could have been a pimp.”

  “Why did you say you ‘did it for him’?”

  I took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. I shouldn’t tell him. I wasn’t allowed. But damn everything I’m not supposed to do. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you,” I said.

  “I won’t.”

  “Swear it.”

  “I swear.”

  “If Drake found out I said anything−”

  “Noriko,” Keir grabbed my hands and squeezed them. “I’ll go to my grave with it.”

  He didn’t let go of my hands. I lowered my gaze because I didn’t want to see the inevitable pity on his face when I admitted the truth. I stared at the tiny kissable freckle that sat at the base of his neck as I spoke. “A few months ago my father was diagnosed with cancer. Bowel cancer. It was aggressive and they had to start him on chemo and to operate or else…” I swallowed. The “or else” was too sticky in my throat. “We didn’t have the money. Even with all our friends and family pitching in and raising money for us, we didn’t have enough money for his treatments. We didn’t know what to do.”

  I pulled my hands out of his and clasped them together in front of me. My face burned, the shame reigniting as I recalled, “There’s an agency, a ‘private buyers’ agency, that specializes in obtaining perfect Japanese wives for rich clients. I applied and was given an opportunity to ‘audition’ for them. I left my home for the first time in my life and spent four weeks at their good wife training facility in Tokyo. My parents thought I was going to Tokyo to meet with charity organizations who may help my father. I hated lying to them. But I had already applied to all the charity organizations and they couldn’t help. We had run out of options.”

  I let out a laugh. “In Tokyo I was able to fool all of my trainers. Soon after I arrived I worked out exactly what they were looking for and I made myself into a perfect little good wife. I was accepted and added to their books. For weeks after I returned home I heard nothing. Then…I received a phone call. I was made an offer. A generous offer. So I accepted.”

  Keir gasped. “Drake made you the offer.”

  I nodded. “He selected me from a few photos and a stat sheet. I didn’t know anything about him except for his name, not even what he looked like. I hadn’t even met him until I arrived here. It was a condition of my ‘sale’ that I sign a confidentiality agreement and tell no one about the deal. I wasn’t even able to tell my family why I was leaving them and where the money to pay for his treatments was coming from, but…I think they have an idea.”

  “Oh my God. I thought…” he trailed off.

  Only then did I look up. His face was a mix of everything I dreaded: shock, horror and pity. “You thought I married him for his money,” I finished for him.

  “At first, I did,” he admitted. “But as I got to know you I realized that couldn’t be the case. I thought that maybe you were forced into it. That you had no choice. I never expected…”

  “Turns out I did actually marry him for his money.” I let out a curt laugh, no humor in it. “But the money wasn’t for me.”

  Keir stared at me mutely, making the roots of my hair grow hot.

  “Well,” I said, “don’t just stand there. Say something.” Anything. Tell me I’m a fool. An idiot. Just stop looking at me like that.

  “But…what if your husband had been hideous?” he asked. “I mean, Drake’s at least good looking, sort of. If you’re into moody billionaire types. What if he had been…ancient or had a skin disease or a fetish for wearing women’s shoes?”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. I couldn’t let my chichi die. I wouldn’t just stand by and watch him waste away until…” I shook my head. “All the money from my ‘sale’ is going to my father. I did it for him, so he could live. I just have to keep Drake happy as part of my contract or he can demand the money back.”

  “I just…I can’t believe it.”

  “You think I’m a liar?”

  “No. That’s not what I can’t believe. I can’t believe everything you sacrificed…everything you risked…”

  “You would have done the same thing if it was someone you loved.”

  He shook his head. “Firstly, I’m not sure I’d go for much on the open market.”

  Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.

  “Secondly…I couldn’t make a sacrifice like that for anyone, I’m too selfish and…” he trailed off, a slightly stunned look on his face as he lowered his lashes. When he looked back up at me there was a fresh tenderness in his eyes that tore at me. “Hime…” his voice was raw, “I stand here utterly in awe. You are…the bravest, most selfless person I have ever met.”

  I could see his resistance fading in this new light. He took a step towards me and the little space between us compressed, filling with heat. I felt us hurtling towards an inevitable future, an impossible future.

  Suddenly I was afraid. We couldn’t go down this path. Keir was right to say that we couldn’t be friends. There was only ruin and destruction for us both if we did.

  “I should go,” I said.

  “Hime…”

  “Thank you for pulling me away from the gate.” I started to back away. “My husband would be so pleased that you offered your assistance to me.”

  I saw in his face the moment when he understood. We’d gone back to pretending that he was just a gardener and I was just the boss’s wife. It was the only game that was safe for us to play.

  It broke my heart to watch the light fading from his eyes. I couldn’t stand to see it disappear. So I turned and walked back to the mansion, the knot inside me that was tied to him pulling tighter and tighter until I almost couldn’t breathe.

  * * *

  The next night I was sitting alone in the dining hall, picking at my dinner − grilled fish with a side of steamed asparagus, a slice of lemon, no damn butter − when the door on the other side of the dining room burst open so hard it slammed off the wall. Drake darkened the doorway.

  I leapt to my feet, my chair scraping back, my knife and fork clattering to the table. “Drake, what’s wrong?”

  He aimed straight for me, his upper lip curled up, his eyes mere slits, and a newspaper clutched in his shaking fist. “I’d like for you to tell me why the fuck I’m looking at this?” He slammed his hand down on the table so hard it made my water glass shake.

  I stared down at the offending broadsheet. My blood turned cold. My startled face in black and white was staring back at me through the front gates of this mansion. The headline, in large black screaming font went right across the page, “Who is Mrs. Blackwell?”

  Oh shit. “Drake, please−”

  “I told you they’re after me,” he roared. “I told you to stay inside. But you deliberately went behind my back, you stupid girl.”

  He advanced towards me as I slid backwards around this massive table. A cat stalking his mouse. “I didn’t know they’d be right at−”

  “I told you. I fucking told you they’d be outside. And now they know who you are. They’ve seen you and now they know. They’ve got somewhere to dig. Oh yes, and dig dig dig they will, those little worms. They’ll dig and they use whatever they find to try to tear me down.” He grabbed my dinner plate and hurled it, a ro
ar ripping from his lungs.

  I screamed as I covered my face with my arms. It missed me and smashed against the wall meters from my head, showering the floor with shards of ceramic and pieces of my gourmet dinner. I stared at Drake through my fingers, his chest heaving as his breath smashed in and out of his lungs. I realized – this is the real man that I married.

  “Master Blackwell?” Celeste was the first one to come running, stumbling as she shoved through the dining room door in her haste. “Is everything alright?”

  Drake swung his finger towards her. She jolted as if she had been electrocuted. “You. Leave us. Tell everyone else to leave us.”

  Her wild eyes swung between Drake and me and the ruins of dinner on the floor, her mouth flapping open like a dying fish.

  Please don’t go, Celeste, please, I silently begged her.

  “Get. OUT!” he roared.

  She let out a shriek, turned and disappeared out the door.

  “As for you…” He turned his glare towards me. I shrank back and back until I banged into the wall behind me, the edge of a portrait frame digging harshly into my spine. He rushed at me, his hands clenched in fists.

  I tried to run but I wasn’t fast enough. A scream tore from me as he grabbed my arm and yanked me to him. His grip was so tight it burned. He was going to snap my arm in two. My teeth were chattering so hard I could barely speak. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I swear.

  He raised his other fist.

  “Don’t!” I shielded my face with my other arm and braced myself for the first hit.

  It never came.

  “Riko,” I heard him say, his voice trembling. His grip loosened from my arm. I snatched it back, cradling my red wrist to my chest. “Look at me.”

  I refused to. Instead I stared down and lightly rubbed the red finger marks around my forearm.

  He wrapped his arms around me, ignoring my attempts to push out of his grasp. He was too strong. I felt his chin on my head. “Riko, my Riko,” he said softly, his voice rumbling through my hair and chilling me down to the bone. “I would never hurt you. You just made me so angry. You know I love you.”

  He what? I stared up at my husband. The anger had left his eyes and now they looked dull. The man who left this angry mark upon my arm was nowhere to be seen. For now. But I sensed that he wasn’t far. A monster had been created inside Drake, a shadow inheritance, a darkness he was trying to keep caged. It was there and it was real and it was waiting, clawing and ramming at its cage. It was only a matter of time before he couldn’t keep it contained anymore.