Selah's POV
I woke up with a throbbing headache.
My body was a little sore.
I recalled what happened—everything: the breakfast, my father, the ring, and… marriage.
My eyes widened at the thought of it. I looked at my finger.
Surely, there was a ring—silver, with a little diamond. It looked real, and I knew it was.
This cannot be happening.
I hope my father didn't agree to it.
I would flip out.
It's bad enough that he doesn't love me, and now he's pushing me into an arranged marriage.
I can't believe this.
I got down from the bed, pacing back and forth, trying to understand what and why this was happening. Why me? Why marriage? Or is it arranged?
"God, what do you have up your sleeve this time?
A mafia boss, of all people.
I thought you said don't roll with bad people because they corrupt good minds.
He's going to corrupt my mind!
This can't be happening!"
I was screaming, looking up as if God was there and I was having a conversation with Him.
He wasn't there, but I knew He was listening.
"This can't happen, Lord. If you're training me for something, this can't be the starting point.
I'm going to die here!
This is a mistake—
But God doesn't make mistakes.
Maybe my guardian angel made a mistake.
But wait, I've never heard of a guardian angel making mistakes.
Does that mean I'm the first human to experience their guardian angel making a mistake?
Is my whole life a mistake?
Ahhh!
Did He drop me in the wrong family?
Or worse, the wrong place?
I'm going to starve to death!"
As I said that, I collapsed on the bed in the most dramatic way.
I'm very sure God would be wondering if I needed more spiritual teachings.
"Is everything okay, miss?"
I turned in the direction of the voice. Madam Claret.
"Oh, Madam Claret," I sat up. "How are you doing?" I asked gently.
"Very well, ma. I was coming to check on you, and it seemed you're already up. Is everything okay?"
I wanted to shout, but what was the point? She might not be trustworthy—or worse, tell that snooze ball everything.
"Everything is fine, but wait… your master—"
"Master Jayson?"
"Yes, Jayson. Has he ever married anyone before? And how old is he?"
She had a light smile.
What was making her happy? Did she know?
"Well, Master Jayson hasn't gotten married, but some say he's in a relationship with his best friend, Miss Amber. But I doubt it. They only shared a bed once or twice, and since then they haven't. And Master Jayson is thirty-two."
I froze in shock.
Forget the bed—but hold on. Thirty-two?!
He's even older than my cousin.
I began counting on my fingers and toes, trying to confirm thirty-two.
She laughed a little.
"Miss, don't bother. Age doesn't matter."
I gave her an annoyed look, and her smile disappeared almost immediately.
"Oh no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just got annoyed about the age."
"No, miss, it's my fault for going too far. May I bring you dinner and a change of clothes?" she asked.
I felt bad. "Okay, thanks."
I smiled, and she left with a nod.
Great. Now she thinks I'm mean.
She came back with a tray of food and a nightwear gown. I thanked her, and she left. I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself up, and wore the new nightwear.
I really wanted to go home and get my things.
I came out and sat on the bed with my Bible beside me and began to have my dinner while reading it.
It felt relaxing. Having a strong bond with Jesus wasn't an easy thing, but it was worth it.
After I finished eating, Madam Claret came to collect the tray and left. I kept reading, fully engrossed, not caring about anything else.
Time passed quickly, but I didn't care. I had already fainted earlier in the afternoon due to the shock.
I heard a soft click. Distracted, I looked up.
There he was—standing tall and elegant.
I tilted my head, and my eyes met a tiger.
"Ahhhhhhh!"
I jumped onto the bed immediately, clutching my Bible.
"What is that thing doing here?!"
He looked at me, not surprised, though I could tell he was holding back laughter.
"This is Raphael, my pet."
My eyes widened. "Your pet? You have a pet tiger?!"
The tiger looked at me like it was tired of people reacting the way I did.
"Don't worry," Jayson said. "He wouldn't dare hurt you."
Wouldn't dare? That beast doesn't need permission to kill.
I saw blood in his mouth.
"He… he k-k-killed someone. Blood!"
Jayson turned casually, like it was nothing new.
"Just a sheep. That's all."
I looked at the tiger, then back at Jayson. "You're psycho, you know that?"
He chuckled.
"That's new. I've never been called that before. More of Crazy."
"Still the same thing!
Look, what do you want from me? Do you want to harvest my organs, or worse, feed me to your tiger?"
A slight smirk appeared on his face, and I was already annoyed. It wasn't his fault—if God hadn't told me to enter the bush where he burned three people, I wouldn't be here.
"I want to marry you."
I looked at him, confused. "Why?"
There had to be a reason. He couldn't just look at me and decide he wanted to marry me.
"For some reason."
"What reason?"
"A reason that concerns me and your dad."
"So both of you bargained with my life?"
"No."
"Is this an arranged marriage?"
"Yes."
"Is there something in it for you? Because
I've heard a lot about arranged marriages, and there's always something in it for one person."
"Yes, there is something in it for me."
"But what's in it for me?"
"I'm not sure."
"So you and my dad made an arrangement without giving me a say?"
"No… something like th—"
"So I'm now your slave?"
"You ask too many questions."
"No, I don't. I just want to know what I'm getting myself into."
"Well, you're getting yourself into a marriage with me, so deal with it."
He sounded frustrated.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to be sure."
His face softened a little, but I knew it was fake. He had no remorse.
"Look, you're going to be fine. And no, I'm not killing you or harvesting your organs."
I sighed in relief.
I was about to get down when a sharp pain hit my belly. My face twisted in pain.
Menstrual cramps.
I felt myself falling, but his tiger rushed forward, and I landed against its side.
Jayson hurried to me.
"Are you okay?"
"C-cramps."
He came to me and gently lifted me onto the bed.
I curled into a ball at the other side. I hated having my periods—just stupid, stupid pain. Like, whyyyyyyyyyyy?
He pushed my hair back from my face, and our eyes met. Those eyes held so many emotions I couldn't tell, and I wished I knew what they were.
I saw nothing but emptiness.
I didn't know what came over me, but my hand touched his face.
He looked shocked—and so was I.
I could tell he was resisting. He removed my hand roughly and stood up, facing the other side.
Felt hurt for some reason, but okay
"Do you need anything?" he asked in a cold voice, and I could tell he didn't want to be soft.
"No… oh wait. Yes. Leave," I said with annoyance.
I heard his chuckle. Shameless brat.
"Miss Claret!"
His voice echoed through my room, and within seconds she was there. How does she even hear him?
"You called for me, sir?"
"She's having one of those girly pains of the month—"
"Girly pain? You child of God, I'll—ouch!" I couldn't finish my sentence because of the pain.
"You know what's wrong with her. Fix it. Come on, Raphael, let's go."
Miss Claret came to my side and covered me with the duvet.
"Selah—"
I turned to him with an annoyed look.
"Don't ever call me that again. Ever."