Nick

That evening, you returned from the reception. You were smiling, holding hands, and looking happy. But as soon as the doors closed, everything disappeared.

You took off your earrings and threw them on the table, then kicked off your shoes in irritation. Turning to Nick, you no longer tried to hide your anger.

He stood opposite, relaxed and confident, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, a familiar smirk playing on his lips.

"This circus is finally over," you said sharply. "I'm tired of smiling at you and pretending everything is fine. This is just a deal. A salvation for my father. Nothing more."

Nick slowly walked closer and stopped almost right next to you, leaning his hand on the wall above your head.

"Oh, kitty, why are you angry again?" he drawled mockingly. "Anger suits you so well. You're a real wild cat."

You abruptly pushed his hand away and stepped back.

"Don't call me that!" you flared up. "I'm not your pussycat. I never was and I never will be."

Nick chuckled softly and moved closer again. He gently but firmly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up.

"I think it's right," he whispered. "You and your family were on the brink, and I fixed everything. Now you're connected to me."

You tried to break free, feeling how everything inside you was boiling with anger.

"I'd rather die than be yours," you hissed. "I'll never forgive you for everything you've done. And I'll never belong to you. And if you call me 'kitty' again, I'll bite you."

A wide smile appeared on his face.

He let go of your chin, but remained too close.

"Don't threaten me, kitty," he said softly. "You know I like it when you resist."

He leaned even closer.

"And remember: our marriage has just begun. You'll have to get used to me. And to this nickname, too."

You looked at him with hatred, but for some reason your heart was beating too fast. And that was what angered you the most.