CHAPTER 5: BEING MRS GRAY

Celine

May came, and so did June, and that title ‘Mrs Gray’ still irked me to the core.

I hated the man behind that name with every fiber of my being. I’ve had my fair share of shitty men in my life, but he topped the list. I hated his guts. I hated everything about him. His entire sight appalled me, and he damn well knew that, because I made sure to show him that I was no coward in the last two months.

Meeting him remains my worst regret–a curse even, one no amount of time could rewrite. Every second in his reach felt like a noose tightening around my neck. It was like living in a horror movie, except it was real.

As if forcing me into a marriage contract wasn't enough, he had insisted we get a private ‘fake’ wedding done to establish my position as his wife. According to him, it was crucial for his business partners and anyone who might question it, so we needed to be convincing enough. Not that I cared, but I wasn't really given much of a choice.

A couple of pictures here and there, and it didn't take long before the news of our marriage spread like wildfire. For a whole week I saw my face plastered on tabloids, the internet. I was the topic on entertainment news channels, everyone dying to meet THE LUCKY WOMAN, the charming, hardcore bachelor finally chose as his life partner after constantly avoiding women like a persistent plague. In their words, they never thought Antonio Gray was capable of love, and boy were they right. If only they knew this union was nothing but an elaborate sham.

Despite his morally gray nature, he was the kind of man people considered insanely handsome. Masculine, broad shoulders, perfectly structured face, sleek brown hair and straight pointy nose; highlighted by a piercing shade of brown Almond-shaped eyes, and lips shaped like a cupid's bow.

He was a willing spawn of the devil, no doubt. But an incredibly beautiful one, basked in an aura of sophistication and control, and a charm that was more lethal than enticing.

He wasn't just dreamy in their eyes, Antonio Gray was a force to be reckoned with in the corporate world. They called him a master strategist and manipulator born into a life where taking was his birthright, and everything he desired fell right into his palms. Wealth, power, fame, respect, and the unwavering loyalty of the Luna Nera brotherhood slash bodyguard, making him further untouchable.

He came from a lineage of old money, even before Gray Corporation was birthed by his late father, the legendary kingpin, Don Hidalgo Gray, rumoured to have done unspeakable evil before his demise. His legacy as the Don of Luna Nera was unmatched, that it was said that even in a lifetime, Antonio wouldn’t be able to cause a fraction of the wreckage his father had left in his wake.

It was only after Don Hidalgo accidentally shot and killed his wife 10 years ago that he decided to take a different path, making his mark in the corporate world through Gray Corporation. But old habits die hard. He ended up dragging a lot more people with him to the grave.

Fast forward to present day, Anthonio has succeeded in making the company his father founded the largest and fastest growing winery in all of Italy, establishing a total of twenty three subsidiaries in different countries across the seven continents. If there was one thing Antonio Gray has ever been capable of loving, it was his company. I had spent enough time in his gray world and in this charade of a marriage to know this much about him. It was just like that phrase, ‘Understanding your enemy’s the first step to defeating them,’ Isn't that what they say?

He was a brilliant businessman, I give him that. Every single wine collection produced by Gray Corporation has been a total success, beating down decades of aged wines, hence the respect to his name.

As stated in the contract, we slept in the same room, but on two separate beds. Security measures according to him. I also couldn't go anywhere without his permission or without one of his bodyguards accompanying me. He practically existed to dictate every aspect of my life. And the worse part? I was now surrounded with luxury I didn’t want, draped in designer clothes I wasn't used to, and attended to by servants who were like silent ghosts. Not to mention the disdainful side glances I receive whenever I step out from some of his thirsty, attention-seeking women who have branded me a gold digger who was only after his money.

It was like I no longer had control over my own life. Everything was new and…different from what I was used to. I could barely even recognize this girl I'd become. If I could, I'd run far away from here and never look back, but the security was as tight as a sealed vault.

“What are you doing sitting out here like a drenched puppy?” Antonio's voice echoed from a distance, diverting my attention from the colourful parrot flying around in its cage hanging by the entrance of the garden. He was Antonio’s and I'd seen him feed him a couple of times from the bedroom window. He seemed really important to him, and that always made me wonder how a man like him could treat a bird so well yet treat people with no value.

I rose from my squatting position, our eyes meeting briefly as he walked down the path that led to the Olive tree where I stood, wearing that semi-hard look that was ever present on his face. Beside him was Matteo, his best friend and consigliere. They practically went everywhere together.

Matteo was an embodiment of loyalty, sticking with him through it all. They also ran the company together. Low-key, I envied their bond because I've never been privileged to have someone like that in my life.

My parents were dirt-poor. My dad was a chronic smoker, and so was my mom. They would argue at the top of their lungs after drinking to stupor, enraging the entire neighborhood. It's no wonder my brother turned out that way. From his minor days, Armando would physically assault and steal from people, shops, even churches. Completing high school was out of the question. He was a menace. One would think that spending some time in juvenile would reform him, but it only got worse over time, with him frequenting prison like a second home. It always left me wondering why and how I ended up in such a messed up family.

Because all the money my parents earned from their menial jobs went into their addiction, I was forced to learn to fend for myself from a young age. When I was in middle school, I would take up odd jobs from people around the neighborhood and they'd give me generous tips which I saved up and used in keeping my education funded when my parents fell short because I was determined not to drop out.

It continued until I got older and was able to get part-time jobs, but high school was just as far as I could go. And so, when my mom passed away from lung cancer, and my dad from cardiac arrest, I was….happy, as cruel as that sounds. For the first time I could breathe. Really breathe. It was like a huge burden had been lifted off my shoulder, but my freedom was short-lived because the only sibling who was supposed to be my safe space, spared no effort in making my life hell.

There wasn't a day that went by without Armando forcefully taking money from me, especially when he was as drunk as a skunk. So I began to hide a huge portion of my earnings from him, while secretly making plans to leave Italy and never return. It didn't end with the stealing. He hit me on several occasions. At the beginning, he would apologize, then he kept crossing the line over and over and over again, so I began to fight back…but here I am at last.

I've always been alone, and I still am. This was an endless circle of torment, and I’ve finally made peace with the fact that my life was no fairytale, and no prince charming was coming to save this pauper like in the movies.

“Celine…Celine!”

I snapped out of my thoughts, looking up at Antonio, but his eyes were fixated on my finger. “What was that?” I asked softly.

“I was asking about your wedding ring,” he remarked. “Where is it?”

“I don't know,” I said, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear as it danced with the wind. “It's probably lying around somewhere.”

“How many times do I have to tell you never to take it off?” he scolded.

“What does it matter?” I blurted, suddenly irritated. “It's a fake wedding anyway.”

“Go get your ring,” he commanded.

“And if I don't?” I challenged. “Don't you ever get tired of telling me what to do?”

“Don't you ever get tired of throwing tantrums like a little girl?” he shot back, and I could swear I saw a hint of amusement on Matteo’s face as he watched us in silence.

“I am not your puppet, Mr Gray,” I retorted. “I know you're used to a system that caters to every of your whim without resistance, but I am not that girl.”

Silence fell over us as he glared at me, sucking his teeth, clearly holding back. “Matteo,” He called out.

“Yes, Antonio,” Matteo responded bubbingly, and Antonio stretched out his right hand to him. He seemed to understand the signal quickly because he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a small red box, handing it over to him.

Antonio plucked out a similar custom-made wedding ring to the one I had from the box and snatched my hand forcefully, slipping it into my middle finger. This was probably the 3rd or 4th ring he had replaced. I was beginning to think he deliberately replicated them just to prove to me that I couldn't win against him.

“Lose it one more time, and I'll have it glued to your finger,” he threatened.

“I hate you,” I blurted as I yanked my hand from his grip, stomping off.

“She's such a tough one to deal with,” Matteo’s voice trailed after me, the amusement in it evident.

“Tell me about it,” Antonio said, a faint sigh escaping his lips.

Once I was in the house, I hurried up the stairs to the master bedroom on the upper floor, quickly grabbing my phone from the dresser. I tapped on my dialer and clicked on Armando's contact, biting my fingers nervously as I placed it against my ear, waiting for it to ring. But the same damn ‘voicemail’ echoed from the speakers.

I tossed the phone on the bed in anger, and it landed on the silky bedspread, a few meters shy of the edge of the bed. I hunched over, screams of agony ripping from my throat. Then tears burst forth, my sobs quiet but intense.

It's been 8 weeks since I last heard from Armando. Since that night he left me here at the Gray villa, I haven't been able to reach him. Whenever I called it went straight to voicemail. All the countless messages I had sent were undelivered. I needed no soothsayer to tell me that I had been blocked.

What hurt more was that I could no longer do any part-time jobs. Now that I couldn't even work under Antonio's roof there were zero chances of me breaking my back if I had to, just so I could buy back my freedom.

Maybe it was time I accepted that there was no escaping this Villa. And him.