The Marriage Swap || ON HOLD TILL SEPTEMBER

3 | 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕

I like my scars. They're fascinating to look at. But sometimes they make me so, so very angry. Sometimes I want to cut down the hands of those puppeteers who make us dance to their tunes and watch them bleed to death. Maybe it's because I've grown up in an environment of violence ever since I was taken from my mother. Or maybe I've always been a little. . .twisted inside.

Kai Park says I need to meet a shaman and get my soul cleansed. I tell him to get lost.

-from the journal entries of Daisy.

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☘︎ Eᴠᴇ Kᴀᴠɪɴsᴋʏ ☘︎

I accidentally married my ex-fiancé's enemy, the irony isn't lost on me.

The one time I met Axel Hernandez, he caught me red-handed eavesdropping on his conversation with Michael.

My ex-fiancé had been oblivious to my act of spying, but the six-foot-something male body of lean muscles and disturbingly attractive features, had excused himself from the conversation to walk out of Michael's study.

While I hid in a hurry behind a pillar in the hallway, Axel had walked around it with a tiger-like grace, looked me straight in the eyes with those freezing grey irises as cold as Antarctic.

I still remember the words he'd spoken, his tone almost mocking even though he showed no emotion on his face, "Next time you want to be a little spy, do it better. Or don't do it at all."

I'd been like an insect trapped in a fly-trap, gaping at him. And all he did was; fix the lapels of his custom-tailored Armani suit as black as his soul, turn around and walk away. He didn't even go back to continue his conversation with Michael. It wasn't like I'd heard anything anyways.

The fury from Axel's words though, had hit me as I stared at his retreating silhouette with narrowed eyes. I didn't like people implying I was stupid, even if I am sometimes. And I sure as hell didn't like to be called a bad spy.

Henceforth, I can confirm it was hate at first sight.

Coming to the present, I'm no longer in the wedding tent. Axel had grabbed my arm the moment he'd pulled back from my albeit forced kiss. Making sure my veil was still down as if he knew I was hiding my face for a reason, he'd dragged me out and towards his conveyance parked on the road alongside the beach. By the time we'd made it to his sleek black, Cadillac limousine, Michael's goons had snooped around and left for good.

Pulling myself out of the reverie, I focus my gaze on the man in question; Axel Hernandez in a white tux, leaning back leisurely against the charcoal leather seat that is possibly more expensive than a kidney. The limo's interior in itself is spacious enough to be a penthouse cabin.

From the seat adjacent to mine, Axel peruses me like a predator would a prey. He has his elbow perched on the seat's plush leather handle, his knuckles grazing his jaw as his sooty lashes frame those onyx eyes, "Miss Eve." The sound of my name being drawled in that sensual French accent, the syllables stretching on the last 'E' almost makes it sound like an endearment, if it weren't for his expressionless face.

I know he figured out after last few minutes of observing me that I'm Michael's bride. But I don't know much about him, except that his name was uttered by Michael often enough and with such venom, that I know they both don't see eye-to-eye. It makes me wonder why. Axel has to be just as bad to be Michael's enemy. People cut from the same cloth and all.

"I can explain." I clear my throat, scratching the back of my neck as my blood heats from embarrassment of what I'd done earlier. I could still feel the warmth of his lips even though it was a very, very fleeting kiss. In the name of nervous system, Eve, stop thinking about that.