Pure Vengeance

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Natasha

An Ashland does not flinch.

Not ever.

Not even when she’s being forced to marry a man she’s never met.

I didn’t have anything old or borrowed, but I had plenty of blue. Well, black and blue anyway. There was even a little purple under my right eye to make things festive. The makeup artist was careful, but it still hurt when she tried to cover the bruises on my face with concealer.

The thick paste wasn’t even really concealer. It was theatrical paint that I would probably need a sandblaster to remove. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about smudging it. The artist was incredibly talented too. Aside from the rose-pink lip stain and skillfully applied smoky eyeshadow that lightened my brown eyes into golden amber, I looked like I wasn’t wearing makeup at all.

My curly brown hair even looked good. Somehow, she’d managed to tame my usual frizz and create glossy waves trailing to the center of my back.

“Ten minutes, Tasha!” my father shouted as he pounded on the door with a meaty fist. “Get your fat ass moving.”

Considering he’d have found something derogatory to say regardless of my weight, the jab didn’t bother me, but I bit my tongue before I reminded him that my name wasn’t Tasha. It was just another of his power plays—as if by shortening my name he could make me feel small.

Too bad it usually worked.

Hell, he’d barely given me time to throw a few outfits into a small suitcase before hustling me to the church.

The stylist flinched, then tugged me to my feet and led me to where my wedding dress waited. The gaudy mass of embroidered lace, tulle, and satin would have looked better on a taller, slimmer bride, but I wasn’t given a choice in the matter. It was the first dress I tried on that didn’t need alterations.

I sent my best wishes to the curvaceous bride who had managed to escape my fate.

Sometimes I wished my mother hadn’t died when I was a baby, but mostly not. She might have been able to stop my father from treating me like dog shit, but it was more likely she’d have been abused too. Of course, knowing my father, I was pretty sure her death hadn’t been an accident.

I was little more than a financial asset—something to trade in exchange for money or power—and I wondered what my future husband had promised him.

At least I knew his name, but aside from that, I was clueless about who Lachlan O’Donnell was or what he did. I hadn’t even seen a picture of him, which meant he was either old enough to be my grandfather, or too unpleasant to get a wife without buying one.

Not that it mattered.

He was probably at least as bad or worse than my father, but maybe he wasn’t. Instead of bitching and grousing, maybe I should thank my lucky stars I was getting out from under my father’s thumb, but it was getting damned hard to keep a positive attitude.

Heck, if I was entertaining pipe dreams anyway, maybe Lachlan would let me go to college. I swallowed a laugh. Women in my father’s world didn’t go to college. They learned how to do lunch, plan parties, and direct housekeeping staff.

Most importantly, they learned to keep their mouths shut and stay out of their husband’s way.

And if Lachlan had made a deal with dear old Dad, he was probably the same. I’d be thankful enough if he didn’t hit me, and doubly blessed if he got himself a mistress and left me alone after I gave him his heir and spare.

I didn’t look at the stylist or the makeup artist as they zipped me into my dress. There wasn’t any point in it, and I hadn’t bothered learning their names. Lucky for them, they weren’t my friends, and I’d forget what they looked like before I cut my wedding cake.

And no way would I ever let them know how much it hurt when they squeezed my bruised ribs into the tight satin bodice. I felt like a fucking sausage.

“You look so pretty, Ms. Ashland,” the stylist murmured as she draped my veil over my face. “Mr. O’Donnell won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

Yeah. He’s going to wonder whose curtains got used to make this horror of a wedding dress.

“Thanks.” I slipped my feet into the crystal-encrusted heels and straightened my spine. “I guess it’s showtime.”

I picked up the end of the chapel-length train before I tripped on it and opened the door leading from the small dressing room. To my surprise, a woman waited outside. She wore a pale-pink bridesmaid dress with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves. A silky shawl in a slightly darker pink covered her shoulders and arms, and her blonde hair was pinned into a neat chignon.

“Natasha, hi!” She carried a bouquet of white roses and nearly dropped them when she hugged me. “You look so beautiful! I hope you like the flowers. Lachlan is such a man and didn’t ask for your preferences, so I had to guess.”

I had no idea who she was, but nobody had greeted me like they were happy to see me in years. Giving her a tentative smile, I said, “Hi. I… um?—”

“I’m so sorry! Gosh, I swear, my brain sometimes. I forgot to introduce myself.” She held out the bouquet. “I’m Lachlan’s sister, Saoirse, and I’ll be your bridesmaid.”

“Wow, okay. Thank you. The flowers are perfect.”

“Yay!” She hooked her arm through mine. “We’re going to be great friends. I just know it.”

Maybe things were looking up. I’d been issued a groom and a stupid ugly dress, but once I was out of my father’s reach, I could make friends. My future husband’s sister seemed like a good place to start.

As if to remind me I didn’t get to hope for nice things, my father stormed toward us.

“Beat it, stupid bitch,” he rasped, pushing Saoirse out of the way.

She planted her feet and shook her head, her cheerful smile fading. “I’m afraid that doesn’t work for me, Stevie. Consider yourself lucky you’re being allowed to escort Natasha down the aisle as it is.”

I gasped and tried to find an escape route, knowing Saoirse would suffer for daring to call him anything but sir, but I was determined to get help before he hurt her too badly.

My father might have been handsome once upon a time, but the years of cruelty had left their mark on him. Deep lines scored his face, surrounding soulless brown eyes.

His cheeks reddened and he clenched his fists as he glared at her. “Someone needs to teach you some manners. Maybe it should be me.”

Sighing, Saoirse rolled her eyes and reached down toward her hip. To my shock, she pulled a slim steel dagger from a slit in her dress, then flipped it expertly. She caught the hilt and positioned the sharp tip under my father’s chin. “I recommend against it, but you’re welcome to try.”

“You little bitch.”

“So good of you to notice.” She gave him a delighted grin and curtsied before the smile and the dagger disappeared like they’d never been. “Now, move before you get blood on my dress.”

I kept my face clear of all emotion and didn’t even ask why Saoirse was carrying a knife to a wedding. Not a single giggle, chortle, guffaw, or the slightest hint of a smile would mar my features, even though I was dancing a fucking jig inside. When I heard organ music from the sanctuary, I said, “I think that’s our cue.”

After giving Saoirse one last poisonous glare, my father stomped off.

Unable to help myself, I snorted, then clapped a hand over my mouth before a giggle escaped. “Wow. I think I have a girl crush now. You’re my new best friend.”

“Oh, cool!” She grinned, revealing a dimple in her cheek. “I’ve never been anyone’s girl crush before. We’re definitely going to be besties, and I’m thrilled to have a new sister.”

“Me too.”

Arm in arm, we walked to the end of the yellow carpet stretching to the altar in the sanctuary. Ignoring my father, Saoirse gave me a tight hug and kissed my cheek. “I’ll go first, and you follow when the wedding march starts, okay?”

“Got it.”

I ignored my father’s tight grip on my arm, knowing he was taking one last shot at hurting me, but nearly stumbled when I saw my future husband.

Although I didn’t know Lachlan’s age, he definitely wasn’t old enough to be my grandfather. He was tall and fit, and while there was a definite family resemblance between him and Saoirse, his features were harder, with sharper edges. Blond scruff decorated his jaw as if he’d forgotten to shave. I liked it though. It made him look…

Maybe more approachable, like he wasn’t a hundred percent perfect.

He smiled and my heart fluttered as I walked toward him. After one look into his sparkling blue eyes, I was head over heels in lust for my new husband.

Lachlan

“I can’t believe you’re marrying that inane little bitch,” my sister whispered in Gaelic. To her credit, the sneer in her words didn’t appear on her perfect face.

I’d spent twelve years waiting for the right moment to strike back.

Four thousand, three hundred and eighty days of unclaimed vengeance eating me from the inside. Maybe it was old school to visit the sins of the father upon his child, but Natasha Ashland would pay for every single one of them.

“We’ve been through this already, Saoirse. Drop it.”

“Fine,” she grunted sourly, then added, “The thought of being tied to the Ashland family makes me sick. I can’t even imagine what Darragh?—”

“I said, that’s enough.” I refused to have our brother’s name mentioned while the physical manifestation of over a decade of planning and work walked toward me. “As long as you did your job and convinced her to come to me willingly, your part is almost done.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this, but I’m finished after tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, just as I promised.”

“Good.” She huffed and seemed to glare at me while smiling at my bride. “I told the little brat I couldn’t wait to have a new sister. She swallowed the lie whole.”

In her white dress and veil, Natasha looked deceptively innocent, but I knew what lurked inside. She was Steve Ashland’s daughter, after all. Despite her beauty and heart-stopping curves, her soul was as black as his was.

Even now, Steve seemed reluctant to let her go as he led her up the few stairs to the altar. He didn’t release her until I leveled him with a hard stare. I hadn’t left him with a choice. I’d bought up all his debts, and he was well aware of what I’d do if he didn’t give me his beloved little brat.

Her days of being her father’s pampered princess were over, and Steve would watch while I knocked her off the lofty perch he’d put under her delicate feet. She’d crawl for me and beg for even the tiniest scrap of kindness.

If Steve was very lucky, I’d send her back to him in one piece after I got my fill of vengeance. Well, her body would be more or less intact. I didn’t plan to leave her mind that way.

At first, I’d considered getting an heir from her before I broke her, but Saoirse had a point. I didn’t want my bloodline contaminated.

Steve swore she was a virgin, but there was no telling how many men had come before me. Thankfully, the blood test I’d demanded had come back clean. She’d also gone off the script and gotten a birth control shot.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Part of me was glad I wouldn’t have to worry about getting her pregnant, and another was furious that she’d taken the choice from me. Knowing I was being ridiculous didn’t soothe my irritation.

“Lachlan, do you take Natasha to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Realizing I’d spaced out on most of the ceremony, I focused my attention on the minister. “I do.”

“Natasha, do you take Lachlan to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey until death do you part?”

Her lips twisted at the old-fashioned wedding vow I’d instructed the minister to use. She lifted her chin, then said, “I do.”

I wasn’t at all pleased at the sudden surge of arousal in my gut at the sound of her soft, husky voice. Maybe I’d keep her gagged. I didn’t want to hear anything that came out of her duplicitous mouth anyway.

Finn, my second, and best man for this farce of a wedding, handed me the plain gold wedding band I’d had him pick up at a discount store, and I slid it over her left ring finger as the minister droned on.

The minister smiled and closed his bible. “By the power vested in me by God and the State of California, I now pronounce you man and wife. Lachlan, you may kiss your bride.”

Gritting my teeth, I lifted her veil to perform the distasteful act, then pulled her into my arms. Her big brown eyes widened, and I almost laughed when she blushed. I hated that she smelled delectably like citrus and vanilla, but the perfume hid putrescence.

It didn’t matter. Her scent would soon match what lived inside her.

She stiffened and a tiny gasp escaped her rosebud lips. Despising myself, I lowered my head to kiss her. Heated electricity shot through my body at the first touch of her lips against mine, and against my better judgement, I deepened our kiss, tasting lemon candy and something spicy I desperately wanted to consume.

Strangely, she didn’t seem to know what to do with her tongue when I coaxed her to open her mouth. She kept it tucked firmly against her bottom teeth until I tipped her head to the side and traced the edges of her straight, white teeth with the tip of my tongue. Whimpering softly, she finally relaxed and let me kiss her like I wanted.

Saoirse cleared her throat, reminding me of my purpose. Reluctantly, I eased away from Natasha, but the feral beast inside me reveled in the sight of her glazed eyes and swollen lips.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to present Natasha and Lachlan O’Donnell.”

The few guests rose and clapped politely. They all knew this wedding wasn’t a joyous occasion.

When the applause faded, the minister said, “If you’ll follow me, we’ll get the marriage certificate dealt with.”

“All right.”

I took Natasha’s elbow and scowled when she jerked out of my reach to pick up the back of her dress.

“Sorry. I don’t want to trip over this thing.” Carrying the mass of lacy fabric over one arm, she followed the minister into a small office.

The minister handed her a pen and laid the certificate on the desk in front of her. Watching her hand tremble as she signed her name soothed my irritation at having to marry her in the first place, but it flared anew when she smiled as she handed me the pen.

Once the marriage certificate was signed by both of us and witnessed by Finn and Saoirse, she gave me a tentative smile. “I… Sorry I’m so weird. Are we having a reception?”

This shy, awkward young woman wasn’t the bride I’d expected. According to rumors, she was arrogant and rude, with a streak of entitlement a mile wide. Considering the gossip came from her father’s guards, who had known her from birth, I was inclined to believe it, except it didn’t explain what I was seeing.

I hid a frown and nodded, then offered her my arm. “Of course. Only the best for my beautiful bride.”

Surprisingly, Natasha clenched my arm tighter as we approached her father, and moved out of reach when he lifted a hand to get her attention. I almost stumbled when she pressed herself against me as if she wanted my protection.

When she tried to increase her pace, I wrapped my arm around her, forcing her to slow down as we walked past her father to my town car waiting at the curb. He gave me an evil scowl before turning away.

As we left the church, her shoulders slumped. “We’re legally married now, right?”

I had no idea why she’d ask such an odd question. She had to know our marriage wouldn’t end well for her, given the animosity between her father and me.

“As soon as the minister files the marriage certificate, yes.”

To my shock, she said, “Thank god.”