Chapter 5: An Unlikely Coincidence

My thoughts resembled an unsolved jigsaw puzzle as Dáin Salvatore took the free seat next to Mr. Guardo akin to an old friend meeting his companions at the mall. I can only guess how he could have traced where we were—he must’ve followed our car. My eyes refused to glance at him, focusing only on my drink running out far too quickly for my liking. Keith and Mr. Guardo took in the strange man quite warmly, even going as far as to give him the menu so he could order food. Thankfully, he was across us and not beside me. If he were, I would surely faint. A whiff of his pheromones caused me to stiffen in my seat, recalling his domineering aura back at that warehouse his goons took me to.

Without a doubt, my legs were ready to take off and flee away from here—far, far, away from Salvatore. What kept me grounded was my husband and his need to be a respectably good host to his sudden guest. Keith was always accommodating, perhaps a bit too much sometimes. As his wife, all I could do was sit there and wait for the whole ordeal to finish. The problem is that I can’t without hurling what I just ate back into its plate. With a whisper, I excused myself from the table to retreat to the lady's toilet.

I found myself leaning against the sink the moment I got inside, taking in deep breaths. There was no denying the fact that Dáin Salvatore was here to check if I would tattle his secret. Why can’t he just leave me alone? After seeing what he is capable of, I would never say anything about his illegal deeds. I lowered my head, eyes shut, as I counted to ten. I paid no mind to the stares I received from the women who entered and exited the room. It wasn’t until I stood straight again that I saw a lady throwing her empty packet of cigarettes that I chuckled. A smoke would indeed help the stress coursing through my veins. However, it has been a long time since I turned to it. Father would kill me if he found out I decided to go back to my secret habit.

Keith wouldn’t be happy, either.

Fighting back the temptation to ask the lady for one, I washed my hands before returning to the table. Keith’s laughter drifted into my ears followed by the intruder’s reminiscing statement of his childhood. Smiling at them, I got back to drinking my glass of wine. Dáin Salvatore seemed at home with the two men, hinting that he wasn’t just well-versed with crime, but in business as well. He had the charisma of a young man hoping to make a name for himself in this city. I bet he already is popular in the underground world, but why would he simply stop there, right?

The universe had enough of tormenting me. My husband got up after paying the bill, an act he does to impress. Mr. Guardo definitely likes him, hinting that he wants to have lunch with Keith. I gave the two men my thanks for spending their time with us, excited to go back home. Dáin Salvatore nodded at us, smiling pleasantly that I almost wanted to throw my purse at him and make everyone see how two-faced he was. But of course, I don’t have a death wish.

“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Salvatore.” Keith extended his hand towards the man to which Salvatore shook with a grin. “It’s great that I got to know you better. Perhaps we can do this again sometime. I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

“No, no, thank you for having me. It was a pleasure, Mr. Cartiera and Mr. Guardo.” Dáin’s gaze then shifted to me with a slight bow of his head. I didn’t know whether to reciprocate out of politeness or to ignore it. The latter will just earn me the ire of all the Cartieras. “And to you as well, Mrs. Cartiera. Keith is such a lucky man.”

“I-it was a pleasure as well, Mr. Salvatore.”

I kept my distance from him, practically leaning against Keith who chuckled at my clingy act. Mr. Guardo excused himself first, stating how his car had pulled up front. Just as we were about to leave, unfortunately, my husband’s phone started ringing. I cursed inwardly at Keith’s retreat after he saw it was a call from his mother. Left with Dáin Salvatore, my fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. My hands wanted to reach out to Keith, to pull him back to my side and forbid him ever to leave me with this criminal. However, I stood frozen on my spot, looking everywhere except at the man beside me. Perhaps, if he does not say a word, my sanity will stay intact. But that isn’t Dáin Salvatore’s aim after he intrudes on what should be a normal luncheon.

“Mrs. Cartiera, I have no reason to believe you are not keeping your end of the bargain, correct?”

I closed my eyes, muttering for this boogeyman to disappear into the darkness of where he came from. Yet, this was no fairytale children are accustomed to reading. With a forced smile, I glanced up at him, keeping the appearance of acquaintances out for lunch rather than merely a man blackmailing his victim.

“Of course,” I answered through gritted teeth. My heart was pounding in its cage, aware of the situation we were both in. My pheromones were no doubt leaking, hoping to ward off this dominant alpha with its sour scent. However, he wouldn’t budge. “Why on earth would I give you the satisfaction of killing me?”

His laughter was boisterous, earning a few curious stares. My face fell, wondering if what I said was wrong. As my mouth was about to open, let an apology slip through and beg him not to do anything rash in a public place, he stopped short of laughing to respond quite casually.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Cartiera. I’m not such an animal to result in killing you. Nothing will do me any good in harming a Cartiera, let alone an unmarked one.”

My hand was quick to act, aiming for his cheek. He possibly saw this reaction coming for he caught my wrist, halting me from slapping him in front of everyone in the restaurant. I felt my eyes water at his words, wondering how he was able to see the lack of a mark on my nape. Then again, this was the same man who had figured out my background and other important information he could use to blackmail me into keeping my silence. For him to know that I’m unmated with my husband, however, is irrelevant. He must have brought it up to insult me.

In this day and age, the act of marking one’s mate has not disappeared. Nevertheless, it isn’t quite such a big deal in this modern world. To have a mark meant bonding with that person until death pries them apart. Hopeless romantics, religious people, and those who are lovesick enough to tie their souls to someone are the very people who practice such a custom. Those who can’t be bothered with such a hassle stick to having a ring, signifying a union without a mark. How come? Maybe it is the mindset that their minds might change later as the relationship progresses. There have been cases where marked couples turn out to regret it, saying that they can’t find someone else to date due to the mark.

I thought it was different for me and Keith back then. I had the initial idea that we were supposed to mark one another as a way of bonding this marriage together as well as the ties between our families. That was the ultimate goal of the arranged marriage. So, our feelings were irrelevant from the start. However, there was no denying the fact that I truly do love Keith. And I don’t have to ask him if he feels the same way. Plus, we were already married. Markings are no longer needed. Right?

Intrusive thoughts of him not loving me and purely tolerating my presence were not an uncommon occurrence. During late nights, they grow louder. I always end up hating myself for entertaining them in the end, therefore I have tried to suppress them. But how could one cure themselves of such a thing? The only solution I could find was to talk to Keith and question why we never considered it. His parents had marked one another. I had the idea that we would do the same. After all, this marriage was not a temporary thing. If we are to stay committed to one another like a real married couple, marking each other wouldn’t be an issue. However, I often find myself speechless whenever I find the time to get him all alone. My cowardice getting the better of me than to quell the voices in my head.

“You…” I narrowed my eyes at Salvatore, debating whether to throw him under the bus with me in the process. Nothing could bring me pleasure than to punch the daylights out of this man. What held me back was his challenging glare, begging me to do an outburst so he could have an excuse to paint me as the bad guy. Inhaling sharply through my nose, I put on the sweetest smile I could muster, hurting my cheeks in the process. “Isn’t that none of your business? My unmarked nape has nothing to do with, you know—whatever you criminals do.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. I stood straighter, feeling a chill run down my back at the sound of it. I didn’t have to read his mind to know he did not appreciate what I just called him. But was it so far from the truth? I saw what he was capable of doing, something no ordinary citizen would do. If my father wanted someone to pay their debt, a little house visit or a phone call would do the trick. The most extreme thing he will do is probably humiliate the person in front of a crowd. Why did Salvatore have to let his goons go so far as to kidnap a man’s wife?

“What I am doing, Mrs. Cartiera is, just the beginning of my elaborate plan to rule this city,” Salvatore stated this grand vision like it was a matter of fact and not an evil scheme. I stood there, face blank at what he just told me. Anyone in my position would laugh awkwardly at what he said, pondering if it was a joke or if this man had gone off the deep end. The choice to ignore him was within my grasp when he continued, catching my interest. “Perhaps one day, you will understand. You are married to the man who made it possible.”

I frowned. “Why on earth would Keith be responsible for the man who you are today? You don’t know him and I am pretty sure he hasn’t seen your face until you walked me home.”

“True, he might not know me. For now.” Then, Dáin Salvatore leaned down to whisper into my ear, causing me to make a sour face. “It was fun talkin’ to you, Mrs. Cartiera. Maybe if you weren’t married to that prick, I would’ve shown you what it’s like to be marked.”

That was it. I could no longer subject myself to his foul words, striding out the exit and to where the car was parked. I dared not to look back, afraid that Salvatore might be laughing at my misery and prompt me to go back and kick him. My skin crawled at the idea of those teeth sinking into my flesh. There was no way I would have someone else other than Keith mark me. Foremost, my family will go ballistic at my poor choice. Possibly because my father is an opportunist and he would rather skin himself than let me marry into a family he sees unfit to be his in-laws. Second, Dáin Salvatore is no husband of mine and he is an asshole. To marry a two-faced man would just be the death of me. Lastly, I don’t want a mark to force someone to stay by my side who isn’t Keith. That will just leave me miserable and bitter.

Keith Cartiera is the only person I will acknowledge to be my husband and mate as foretold by fate woven by our families.

Nothing will tear that apart and I will not allow it.

“Baby? What happened?” Keith entered the car with a worried expression, one I wish I could quell immediately if it weren’t for my equally soured disposition. The vehicle slowly sped up as it drove out of the parking space and into the main road. I refused to peek out the window and see if Salvatore was keeping watch. I might just hurl out everything I ate if I do see him or a car that might be following us. When he heard no response, Keith tried again. “I saw you walk away from Mr. Salvatore. You looked like he insulted your outfit or something. Did he do anything that displeased you?”

For the sake of our peace and for the Cartieras, I shook my head with a barely-there smile.

“Nothing. I haven’t been feeling well since we left home. I guess I just need more rest.” Eyes solemnly looking at him, I added, “I hope I wasn’t a hindrance or an annoyance earlier.”

Keith pulled me close to him, pressing a chaste kiss on my head. “Nah, you weren’t. In fact,” he smiled as he nuzzled his chin on my hair. “I got Mr. Salvatore to agree to my invitation. Glad he didn’t turn it down. He didn’t seem like the type of person to hang out at parties or even go to one. I guess that’s one more guy on the list of guests.”

I paled at his statement.

“You… invited him to the garden party?”