"Say that again?" Zahira shook off the hand gripping her elbow as she stared hard at the boy in front of her.
Six feet two, athletic build, and about 19-20 years old. Some rich family's young master, Zahira thought as she pulled her disorderly hair into a high ponytail. Who else would come to the slums dressed like that?
But... I'm glad he did, she sighed as she watched the traffic zoom along its uninterrupted course. Why had she tried to kill herself? If she died, who would make those people pay back what they owed Minny?
"You know, you're really good-looking "hubby." Too handsome to stay in this part of the capital for long. I'll pay you back when I'm more capable, but you should get out of here for now. I can't afford the wrath of your family should something happen to you," Zahira tossed over a shoulder as she began making her way toward the orphanage's direction. She had to get back and plot those people's downfall.
"I can help you get your revenge."
Zahira paused midstride as that baritone voice wrapped around her. Words of a devil, she mocked as she faced the boy once again.
He was now standing with his hands inside his tailored suit pants. He looked right at home, a prince amongst filth, in the latest fashion labels. Black obsidian eyes stared back at her as bright as a starlit sky. He meant what he said and had the confidence to pull it off.
Cool as hell, Zahira nodded to herself. "Why?"
"Because you're my wife," came the reply.
Zahira's face darkened a bit, "Who's your wife? Look handsome, what third-world country do you think this is? You can't just pluck innocent young girls off the street and force them into marriage."
She raised her left hand to touch her forehead and her chest, then right and left shoulder. Handsome boys really are the devil—best never to get involved or who knows how one can end up.
Now it was his turn to have a darkened face. Was she warding him off like a sort of evil spirit? He just saved her life, and he hadn't even received a thank you. This little wife of his was different, that's for sure.
"Didn't you just call me "hubby"? If that isn't an acknowledgment, what is? Besides, I've been watching you for a week now. Your half an innocent at best," he smirked. He wanted to see how this girl would react to hearing this admission.
"Devil. Devil. Devil." Zahira muttered the world like a mantra as she immediately whipped around and power walked down the street. What was I thinking? It's the middle of the night, and I just tried to commit suicide. Of course, I attracted a weirdo at a time like this. Minny always said not to be so impulsive. Lord, you saved my life, and I thank you, but why did you put a devil on my back?
Who watches a 15-year-old girl for a week, anyway? Plus, he's only a few years older than me, too. Maybe he's some creeper's apprentice and has to pass a test into creephood, Zahira shuddered. She would be diligent against good-looking men in the future.
"Zahira... Zahira St. Cloud."
This time Zahira stood frozen in place. She didn't even turn to look at him. Ever since she was old enough to say her name, it had been Zero. Be it the other orphans, headmistress, or people from the streets; everyone called her Zero. It wasn't until she was sick and had gone to the hospital for Tonsillitis that she learned her actual name.
"Just who the heck are you? Everything, now."
"Now, wifey. Is that any way to--" the boy stopped mid-sentence when Zahira turned and hit him with a glared so cold he finally felt some apprehension. She's his granddaughter, alright. No one could make me feel a threat, but that man, the boy thought as he looked Zahira over.
"Follow me, and I'll tell you everything. Don't worry about that orphanage. It and the people who hurt your friend will disappear by morning." That's all he said before turning and crossing the street to a silver, two-door coupe. He opened the passenger door and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
Zahira was taken aback for a moment before a small smile filtered across her lips. It looks like you can rest in peace sooner than later, Minny. I don't know who he is yet, but to do this for me must mean he has some redeeming factors.
Zahira slid into the car and strapped on the seatbelt. The moment the driver-side door closed, she riddled the boy with questions. "So who are you? Why have you been stalking me? You do know I'm underage, right? What exactly is going to happen to the orphanage? Will those people suffer?"
The glow in her eyes was so intense he couldn't help but laugh. "Everett Winters is my name. I watched you for a week to be sure that it was worth letting your family know you're alive. The orphanage and those people who pushed your friend to commit suicide will burn together. Since they couldn't bear to let anyone leave that place to find any sort of happiness, they can stay there forever."
Everett watched her face closely as he said the last part. After watching her for a few days, he knew she was no shrinking violet, but he wanted to see how ruthless she could be. What he saw in her eyes as she processed the information was a deep satisfaction. Good, he nodded. That's the attitude my wife should have.
"So then who is my family, and why are they only looking for me now?" Zahira pressed, a cold look seeping into her eyes.
Everett took one look and pulled the car over. "Zahira, I want you to listen to what I'm about to say."
Zahira saw that Everett's eyes had turned so dark it was like looking into a black hole. If it was someone else, she might have been fearful, but since it was him, she only felt foreboding. As if whatever he was about to say was as solemn as a vow on his life.
"It took me a month to learn all that I could about how you've spent your 15 years. In a week, I've come to understand your character. No one will deny your right to anger. If I had to live and survive the way you did, I would be angry too.
"But the man I'm about to take you to meet isn't the cause of your anger. He has spent the past 13 years looking for you. This corner of the slums just so happened to be the last of all the places he could have looked. He has almost jeopardized his health and company in his search for you. If you show him even the slightest bit of disrespect, wife or not, I will deal with you accordingly."
Zahira was in a trance. What a king's aura. Eh?! Phew, Phew. What am I thinking? She mentally shook herself. He just threatened my life. Who cares if his eyes gleam like black diamonds when he's domineering like that. Aaaahh, stop it!! Damn, now my heart's beating fast, too.
He's definitely a pervert's apprentice, Zahira thought gloomily. Bad boys are the weakness of every young girl old enough to understand what liking boys mean.
"Am I meeting your father? So protective, jeez," Zahira countered huffily. She crossed her arms under her surprisingly ample chest and looked like a wronged kitten.
"No. My father wishes he were that important. We're going to see your grandfather," Everett relented. He knew he had come on too strong just then. After looking at where her crossed arms layed, Everett turned his attention back, continuing the drive. I'm definitely getting her bigger tops, he decided.
For the next hour, they rode in comfortable silence. Zahira had never been out of the slums, so all the scenery before her was fascinating. The capital was massive, so an hour's drive only got them to a random lower, middle-class neighborhood.
Everett pulled his car into the driveway of a small, neat-looking two-story house and killed the engine. He then hopped out and opened Zahira's door.
"All the answers you've ever wanted are in that house. I'll be right beside you, so don't be afraid," he reassured Zahira when he noticed she remained sitting.
"If you really were my husband, then you would know not even death can scare me," Zahira boasted.
In truth, she was a little scared. Everything she ever knew was about to be turned on its head. Exhaling the breath she had forgotten she was holding, Zahira took another look at Everett holding open the car door. Darn handsome devil, she mused. How many screws do you have loose in that head of yours?
Zahira couldn't help asking as they walked up to the front door. "Why are you going through so much for me? Don't you think calling poor slum girls you've never met "wife" is a bit off-putting? What if everything you think you know about me is inaccurate?"
And why the heck aren't I feeling creeped out about it? Maybe I'm the one with loose screws, she deadpanned.
Everett just sighed as he knocked firmly on the door. It seemed dealing with her would require a set of skills he hadn't developed yet.
"From now on, you're my wife, okay. Get used to it because you're stuck with me, kid."