Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: THE BLACK WIDOW

Heaven’s POV

Today's my wedding day, and I am walking down the aisle in an elaborate black dress.

A cathedral-length lace black veil trailed behind me, a sickly smile pasted on my face as I held my black bouquet. The dress was dramatic, made of silk and lace, midnight-dark, the exact opposite of the white dress Raze had forced on me yesterday.

I had agreed to the wedding on the condition that I would choose my dress this time. It was an act of rebellion, I wanted Raze to know, two can play a game.

People gasped. I heard them.

The crowd was full of powerful men who moved armies, women who were married into crime the way most women got married into love. Their eyes widened as if I was a bad omen walking, though I heard it's really a bad omen but I'm not here hoping for a happy marriage, I'm heading to the altar with a mission.

Nico, Raze’s underboss, walked me down the aisle.

Surprisingly he didn't lecture me. He smirked when he saw me and applauded loudly.

“You really woke up and chose chaos today, Black Widow,” Nico murmured under his breath, voice amused.

“It’s my wedding,” I whispered back.

He laughed once. “No, Heaven. Everyone here thinks it’s Raze Montalto’s wedding. You just happen to be the one breathing beside him in the photos.”

He slowed his steps slightly.

“He will be furious, you know.”

Good.

I forced my chin higher, refusing to let fear swallow me.

The orchestra played. For once life around me felt gentle, no church choir. Just violins, cellos, and piano. All eyes, every single pair in this massive grand cathedral were pinned to me.

I guess Nico was wrong. This is my wedding as much as Raze's. I refuse to be his shadow.

I could feel Raze before I saw him.

When I lifted my eyes to the altar, Raze stood there in a black tailored suit, dark tie, his emerald green eyes were cold and were pinned on me. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t neutral either. Fury wrapped neatly in a wedding suit was what he looked like.

His jaw tightened when he fully took in my dress.

As much as my brain begged me to turn back and run, I stayed rooted to the ground. It was too late, I was in front of him already.

Nico released my arm.

Raze took a step toward me, his eyes meeting mine through the veil. Even with the glare, he offered his arm, and I linked mine with his.

“It's our wedding day,” he murmured, voice low enough that only I heard.

“And I chose my own dress like we agreed,” I shot back quietly.

His eyes flicked up to mine.

“You chose war,” he corrected.

Together we walked to the altar, standing in front of each other with the priest in between us.

His eyes were still trained on me, dragging down my body dangerously slow. Ok, he hates the dress.

The priest began speaking formal vows. Such sweet and ordinary words for an unholy marriage. These men here were pretending this was a normal celebration of love.

I barely heard half the priest’s words. I could only hear my heartbeat. My blood is running.

“Raze Montalto,” the priest said, “do you take Heaven Cortez as your lawfully wedded wife?”

Raze never took his eyes off me.

“I do.”

Zero hesitation I see.

Then the priest turned to me.

“Heaven Cortez...”

“Just Heaven” Raze cut in.

My breath shook.

"Heaven Cortez!"

A ripple moved through the guests. His jaw ticked, and just as he was about to speak the priest cut in.

“Heaven Montalto,” the priest corrected hurriedly. “Do you take Raze Montalto as your lawfully wedded husband?”

I stared at him for a minute.

Running out of this hall will have my blood spilt and my soul joining Ivan's in hell. As much as I'd love that, I have a mission to accomplish.

“I do,” I finally whispered and Raze smirked at me.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

The entire cathedral went silent.

Raze stepped closer, he lifted my veil slowly His eyes eating up my face. His hand slid to my jaw, lifting my face.

"Finally" he whispered. And lowered his face to mine, our noses touching but not our lips. He maintained eye contact with me.

"As much as I would love to kiss you till you're out of breath, I won't. I'll wait till you voluntarily hand your whole self to me then I'll ruin you the way I like."

And with that, he stuck out his tongue and gave my lips a slow, deliberate lick before pulling away.

My pulse thundered.

People clapped.

“You will regret the dress though.”

He released my jaw. Turned to face the crowd, gave a little bow and a smile.

And they applauded again.

I watched him wave to the crowd. I was married to my husband’s killer.

Not because I wanted to.

But because he didn't deserve the life he was living. Because I was going to take everything he holds dear, including his life and mine.

*

The orchestra stopped and the music shifted into something slower.

It was time for our first dance.

Raze turned to me, extending his hand.

“Mrs Montalto,” he said with a mocking elegance, “may I have this dance?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but placed my hand in his anyway.

He wasted no time pulling me onto the dance floor.

His fingers laced through mine, his other hand sliding around my waist pulling me tightly to his chest, as we swayed to the music.

“Nice dress,” he murmured.

“Knew you’d like it,” I replied.

His eyes sharpened instantly. A flicker of annoyance and amusement in them.

“I’ll forgive you today,” he said. “Because you're incredibly sexy.”

My brows knit. “Thought you’d keep the drugs at bay since it’s your wedding day.”

He gave a dark chuckle. “I don’t do drugs, baby doll.”

He twirled me out, then pulled me back against his chest.

“As irritating as your defiance is…” His smirk deepened. “It’s hot. I’m intrigued.”

“Oh, good,” I said sweetly.

And for a response, I drove the heel of my shoe straight into his leg. "Oops"

He inhaled sharply, jaw tightening for just a second.

His hand tightened at my waist.

The music ended.

*

The reception was colder than my husband's funeral.

Or was it ex-husband?

Raze stood beside me the entire night, he didn't speak to me. He barely touched me, but his presence took my ability to breathe, and even worse, drink. He didn't let me have any Champagne.

People congratulated him.

No one congratulated me.

Nico walked past us, he leaned close to whisper with a grin

“The dress was iconic, by the way.”

Raze’s eyes flicked sharply towards him and Nico lifted his hands in fake innocence, disappearing instantly into the crowd.

It was almost midnight when Raze finally spoke to me, he leaned close enough to my ear that the fine hair at the back of my neck rose.

“It’s time to go home, Heaven.”

Home. To the Montalto estate.

I swallowed, with the way he stared at me, I was almost sure he had been scheming on various punishments.

He took my hand and led me out the grand doors and into the black presidential car. No one spoke during the drive. I just stared outside the tinted window as city lights blurred past.

When the gates opened, fear hit me. Everything in me wanted to back out, to pick the gun from his left pocket and shoot myself in my head.

Still, I sit, composed.

The car moved inside and parked right in front of the Mansion. Raze stepped out of the car, not bothering to help me out. The driver helped me out of the car.

The cold night air hit my bare arms as soon as I stepped out of the car. I shivered slightly while staring at the fortress in front of me.

Guards in black littered around. Heavily armed.

Raze walked ahead of me without turning to see if I followed. Of course, he knew I would. There was nowhere else I could go.

He led me to a bedroom upstairs.

His bedroom.

It was massive, dark and cold. Just like him.

“This is ours,” he said simply.

He loosened his tie slowly… eyes never leaving me.

Raze rolled the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows, revealing the inked forearms that flexed every time he moved. He didn’t speak. He just watched me.

I lifted my chin. “If you’re waiting for me to apologise, you’ll die of old age first.”

A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth. “I’m waiting for you to take that dress off, wife.”

My heart kicked against my ribs, but I refused to let him see it and like the crazy bitch I was

I reached behind me, fingers finding the hidden zipper at the small of my back. I pulled on it and let my dress fall and pool on the floor.

Underneath, I wore black lace lingerie so delicate that you could tear it by pulling your fingers through it. A corset bra that pushed everything up, garter belts and the tiniest scrap of lace between my thighs that barely qualify as panties.

His pupils blew wide.

I stepped out of the dress, kicked off the heels, and walked toward him barefoot across the cold marble until we were a breath apart.

“Something wrong, husband?”