"Why is he mad I won't spend his money? Shouldn't he be grateful I am saving his money?" I asked confusedly, gently touching the costly dresses in our chosen shop. Waverly stood at the door, watching outside diligently, and ignored us.
"No, if he does not have you looking well cared for, then people will judge him. They know he's a billionaire, and what billionaire does not clothe his wife well? Everyone already thinks you are a mail-order bride. The last thing he wants is for them to confirm that rumor. You married him without a public dating phase, which is very rare in his realm, especially when he normally dates daughters of his business partners." She explained kindly, pulling out a dress that was much too long for me. All of these dresses were clearly for tall women like her.
"Billionaire?" I asked, sure I had misheard or mistranslated that word in my head.
"Surely you didn't think he was broke, right?" She said with a laugh. I was just frozen, shocked, and light-headed at that revelation's enormity.
I had not even possessed one hundred dollars before and taken that responsibility. How was I to be given access to such a vast wealth?
"Why me? He could've married anyone." I asked quietly as she pulled no less than twenty dresses out, handing them to a worker who appeared out of nowhere just to hold them. Esme didn't respond at first but, after a moment, sighed.
"I think after Amanda and how high maintenance she was, how fake and self-centered he was...he just wanted something real. Someone who could see past the dollar signs and just see him. Since you had no idea who he was, you could do that. You probably still can. I don't see you interested in the money like she was." I nodded and let her shove me into a dressing room to try things on.
I couldn't imagine going through life feeling like everyone only wanted me because of my money. It would be so lonely to be in a crowded room yet still feel alone. I often felt like that, but because my family hated me. I knew nothing of his friend who arranged the marriage, but I was sure he had to have met me before to realize that we had something so deep and so hard in common.
I looked in the mirror when I finally found a dress that was good for my height, and I didn't recognize myself. The dress was beautiful, and I looked like I could be on the cover of a magazine. There was no trace of the village girl left in the reflection. The dress was pure white and had a black ribbon on the back, bringing the dress against my shape perfectly; it fit like a glove and yet was long enough to be classy. I loved how the sleeves ran all the way to my wrists and didn't feel constricting. Esme came in and gasped, surprised and excited.
"You look so much nicer now. I doubt the paparazzi will have anything bad to say now." She said surely. I glanced out of the dressing room to see that; indeed, there were awkward old men standing around with massive cameras waiting outside the store for me like creeps.
"Great," I mumbled, annoyed at my interrupted shopping trip. I grabbed a few cute outfits, and Esme threw a few more in herself and went to check out, but the worker just smiled pleasantly.
"Oh, don't worry, we will put everything on Mr. Bramer's tab." The beautiful, tall woman said kindly. It was the first time I had ever seen anyone look at me with envy. Usually, they looked down at me with contempt and disgust since they didn't want people like me in their business.
"Why does he have a tab in a women's store?" I asked, shocked. She just shrugged, smiling like a robot.
"Don't be jealous. Lots of women want him, but you're the one who got him. He's never cheated on anyone." She told me, seeing my expression change, realizing his ex would have shopped here. He didn't even live here. Why was he having dates here with other women? It was shady at the very least and made me wonder what circumstances led him to agree to the marriage. Could he have been blackmailed by one of the girls and used marriage to me to cover some misdeed? It was all too convenient.
"I'm not sure how we're getting back to the car. Where did Waverly go anyways?" I asked, looking for the man who had been guarding the front door.
"No idea. Let's just wing it and hurry. You look beautiful. Let them take their pictures." She said confident we could make it.
As soon as we made for the door, the flashing light started, blinding me and making it hard to see where I would go through the crowd. The swarm of people seemed to enclose me, and I was getting pushed and pulled by the crowd. I realized too late wasn't just paparazzi, but also random girls who were James's fan club, it seemed, angry at me for stealing him.
I was separated from Esme, and I started to panic and scream at the chaos, but even though I was quite literally surrounded by people obsessed with me, no one seemed to actually see me. At last, I was pulled from the chaos by a strong arm and dragged harshly through the crowd and into a mall hallway that was empty.
The crowd continued its motion without me passing by the hallway, with the people who had seen me get pulled at and abruptly pushed past by people who were focused on finding me on the other side of the mass.
"Hello, sister." I gasped, finally realizing it wasn't James who had pulled me out. I felt my heart start to race, and I fought my captor, but he was far stronger than me and had me pinned against the wall.
"Leave me alone! You already sold me. What more could you want." I snapped, trying to sound angry to hide my fear. My cousin smirked, looking down at me like I was an idiot.
"Your husband tricked me into thinking he only had a small fortune. We deserve at least another 100 thousand, and you're going to get it for me." He explained dangerously. I shook my head desperately.
"I'm not telling him to give you anything. You don't deserve another dime." I snapped, trying to push against him, but he held both my hands in one of his without effort and didn't budge.
"Then I guess I don't need you alive anymore, dear sister." He said, slapping me so hard I saw stars and felt the entire right side of my face light up with a fiery pain.
"Ready to rethink things? What is he to you anyway? He has more money than he knows what to do with. Where is your loyalty to your family?" He yelled with more force this time.
"No," I whispered defiantly. My eyes locked on him, daring him to do his worst. He was silent as he pressed his hand into my throat, cutting off my air supply with almost no effort. I tried to scream but couldn't, and he smiled sadistically, seeing me struggle against him.
I had always thought such violence was normal in the home. Now that I knew it wasn't, it started a fury in me that I couldn't quite understand. Who was he to steal my voice? My power? I tried to kick him defiantly, but the lack of oxygen affected me. My muscles were quicker than normal since I hadn't eaten that morning, and I barely managed to touch him with my feet, which were dangling well off the ground.
I didn't want to give in and let him have the joy of killing me, but I floated out of consciousness, the black warmth calling to me in a blissful and calm way.
"Let go of her!" James's sharp words cut through the blackness, and all at once, I felt my chest finally inhale with air, and I collapsed into a puddle on the marble floors. I gasped and grabbed my throat, which was seared with pain that was only possible with oxygen flow, and tried to get my bearings.
James had grabbed my cousin and was punching him repeatedly in the face without holding back. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell he was furious and was going to kill him.
"James, please..." I gasped, barely able to talk still. He stopped, his arm pulled back, and I could see he was fighting internally with himself.
"He was going to kill you. He deserves to die." He spat, getting ready to punch him again.
"James, he's not worth it. You will go to jail. I'm not asking you to stop because I care for him." I said in a painful whisper. He growled, debating if he should ignore my pleas or not, but after a long moment, he got up and spat on my cousin. Like a switch went off, his murderous rage left, and his expression softened as he looked down on me and helped me up.
"Why are you alone anyways? I told both Esme and Waverly to stay with you at all times. I had a feeling your family would be following us. It's why I said they are never welcome at our home. I know people like them, and they will stop at nothing for money. Money is their king and God." He said, running his hand gently over my cheek, which had my cousin's handprint on it.
"We can't have you walking past the crowd like this. They will immediately label me as a wife beater." He said, frowning, trying to find a way to sneak out without the hordes of people seeing us.
Without warning, he swept me off my feet and started to carry me without effort, leaving my groaning cousin on the floor.
"When we get close, pretend to sleep and put your face against my shoulder so no one can see the marks, got it?" He explained quietly. I nodded, and we rounded a corner and immediately ran into the back of the crowd, so I obediently snuggled into his chest and closed my eyes, pretending to sleep.
His shirt looked causal, but it was far softer than a normal shirt would be and smelled divine. I was sure he used some sort of cologne, but it smelled fresh and yet had a deep note that was warm and relaxing.
Even with all the camera clicks and people shouting questions, I found myself relaxing and starting to fall asleep against him, the soft steps he took soothing and comforting to me.