THE MAFIA’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

Jasmine’s POV

One single fear that keeps me locked up in this room, with no courage to step out for a second for some fresh air is the thought of crossing paths with my look alike.

I don’t know why I am so scared of seeing her. I don’t know what I am supposed to say to her or how I am supposed to react to seeing a woman whose life I have replaced for four months now.

Aside from that, the fact that Xavier might be in love with her hits me harder in the face. I don’t stand a chance with her. I know this and it makes my heart ache terribly.

I should have known that falling for a man like Xavier was way too dangerous.

It’s been a week since I came back. Since Xavier brought me back here I haven’t gone out of this room. It reminds me of the first few days after he kidnapped me away from Chicago that night.

The only difference is that this time I keep myself busy with reading the books I got from the store and also my phone.

I have managed to open social media accounts too.

The door opens and I look up from the bed to see Xavier come in.

Obviously, he is avoiding me. I haven’t even seen him in days and now that he is here, he is avoiding eye contact with me.

It makes my heart sink deep into my stomach, proving to me that what I feel isn’t mutual.

As he strolls to the closet, I watch his back carefully, thinking of what to say to him. He hasn’t given me a reply to my request yet. I don’t know if Andre is still here or not and he isn’t saying anything about letting me go.

Apparently, he can’t let go. He loves her, not me.

“You love her, don’t you?” The words roll out of my mouth before I can control it. It was meant to be a thought but here I am voicing it out.

Confusion spreads across his expression when he turns to me. “What?”

“You love Andre, don’t you?” I ask again, dropping the book in my hand and sitting upright.

We haven’t had a decent conversation in a week. Isn’t it high time we talked? Reach some form of consensus again so I can know what to do next with my life.

He can’t keep me locked here forever.

“No, I don’t”, he denies, surprising me. “That girl is a bitch. I can never feel a thing for her.”

At that, I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. He called her a bitch and he said he doesn’t love her. Besides, I don’t even know if I should believe him or not.

A smile manages to find its way to my cheek and I try so hard to hide it when I see him staring at me.

“I’m sorry…”

“I let her go already”, we both say simultaneously and my ears peek up in curiosity.

“What? You let Andre go?” I scramble out of bed. He nods. “When?”

“A week ago”, he murmurs and bends his head, avoiding my gaze again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I query but he keeps mute and turns back to the closet.

He doesn’t want us to converse? What the hell is wrong with this man? Is he still keeping me here because he let her go?

So he chose me?

I know I shouldn’t be too elated about this but I can’t help it. I am vulnerable and he knows it. He is making decisions on how I live and I feel ok with it.

I am not supposed to be content here. I have a life elsewhere.

Why the hell am I trading my life for that spoiled brat again?

“What about her mother?” I suddenly remember Mr. Moore requested the release of Mrs. Moore as well.

With a surprise-filled expression, he twirls around and faces me. “How did you know?”

I shrug without a reply.

Silence falls.

This is one problem I have with him. He doesn’t talk when I want him to. He acts like someone whose words are being counted in a day and it’s irking.

We need to talk.

“She is gone as well”, his voice reaches me and I gaze up at him with a smile.

For no reason, I feel glad. He let them go because of me, not because they deserve it. Despite how I feel, I still can’t help but question all of this.

Is he choosing me? Am I to stay here forever now? Is it going to be worth it to get away with this for the second time while I rot away here?

My head keeps spinning with questions that have no answers.

Suddenly, my thoughts drifted to how we met. Xavier and I met in the most unusual way.

First, he saved me from that drunk man. If he wasn’t there, I would have been raped. Then he kidnapped me, claiming I was his run-away bride.

If he hadn’t kidnapped me, I would still be in that local restaurant, mopping my life away while men troop in to ogle or smack my ass while I do nothing.

Was this meant to be?

Did all of this happen so Xavier and I could meet and fall in love?

Mentally, I slap myself at the last thought.

Love is a strong word. I might be heads over heels for him but I can’t vouch for him or what he feels. He is unpredictable. I doubt if he even knows what he feels.

A familiar cologne whizzed past my nostril, jerking me back to life. This is when I see Xavier in front of me and I blink, wondering when he got here.

His jawlines are set straight and I wonder if he is annoyed.

He looks upset.

“I’m sorry”, he apologizes, stretching a hand at me and making me raise a brow.

Sorry? For what exactly?

For my first or second kidnap?

“For everything”, he adds, as if hearing my thoughts. “I promise to make things right henceforth if you will allow me.”

I remain silent.

Not because I didn’t know what to say but because I wanted him to say more. To say a lot. There is a lot to talk about. We should talk to know where this is heading.

I need assurance too but I doubt if I can get that. Perhaps not today and I don’t even know if I should let go of hearing him talk about us while fate takes its course.

I should be strong to accept whatever comes my way.

Living back here or going away from here eventually.

First, I need to know what I want. If I can get it fine and if I can’t, then good. I will take whatever life throws at me but I want to make all of it worth it.

Especially this moment.

The moment when Xavier and I look at each other in the eyes and that tension that usually hangs heavily in the air.

I should enjoy it while it lasts.

I shouldn’t dwell much on the past or what will probably happen in the future. I am forgiving and I already forgave him a long time ago. If I hadn’t, I would never have fallen in love with him.

I expect him to say something sweet so I can take the cue to do something but he isn’t saying a word and it is beginning to annoy me.

“Because I asked you to let Andre go doesn’t mean I am trading my life for her once more. So when will I go?”

He seems genuinely surprised at my question. Well, I am surprised too but I feel that is the right question to ask.

Everything doesn’t feel right even though I enjoy being here and I am already used to life here instead of outside here or back in Chicago.

In fact, being here reminds me less of my life in Chicago and all the things I have been through.

“As soon as Sebastian is found”, he mutters, looking pale.

“Are you okay?” I question, watching him closely. He stares up and nods with a sad smile.

That smile pricks my heart.

Am I hurting him? Why can’t he express how he feels? Why does he keep bottling everything inside of him?

Instinctively, I walk closer and hold his face in between my hands, making our eyes lock. I smile at him and press my forehead against his.

Anytime he does that, it makes me feel imaginary butterflies inside of me and now that I am doing it, I hope it will make him feel better.

If this is meant to be, so be it.

I am not doing anything anymore. I will just let fate take its course.

His eyes fall on my lips, making me conscious of our closeness which gets my heart pounding hard within my ribcage.

His Adams apple pops up and down and he wipes his tongue over his lips. I see a flash of an emotion I can’t place on his expression which disappears as soon as it comes.

I gulp loudly when a wild imagination of us jumps into my head. I want to pull away but I can’t.

There seems to be a force rooting me to this spot. There is a sort of exhilaration and comfort I derive from doing this and I don’t want it to be cut short.

I want to remain this way till eternity. I want to be with him, by his side. I want him to feel me the way I feel him.

But I can’t tell him that. He needs to figure out what he wants for himself first. Then others can follow.

With confidence, I step away eventually but he pulls me back, his hold on my waist very strong.

I think he will crash his lips on mine and kiss me with vigor but he isn’t doing that.

He peers at me intensely before asking. “Can we go out?”

I raise a brow.

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“Jas…”, he stutters, looking flustered and this makes me smile inwardly as he struggles to call my name even though he didn’t struggle this much when he called me Jasmine when he found me in the rain.

“Can we go out on a date?” he demands suddenly, making me stumble backwards in shock.

“A date?” I ask loudly to be sure I didn’t misheard him.

With a cute smile on his sinfully handsome face, he nods gingerly like a little boy who has been promised lots of candies.