Chapter3 Matrimony

The ride to the Castellan residence had been an uncomfortably silent one, filled with an awkward tension that hung heavily in the air. Much of the discomfort, Aurelia had to admit, was her own doing. She steadfastly refused to even cast a glance in Dante’s direction, determined to keep her emotions and words in check. After all, who knew what might escape her lips if she engaged in conversation with this maddening force of a man? Beneath the surface of her high-strung emotions, fatigue gnawed at her, the day's disastrous events weighing heavily on her. “We have arrived,” Mr. Klint announced after an hour of travel. Aurelia wasted no time and exited the car before Dante, standing to the side with her arms tightly crossed over her chest, waiting for him and the butler to join her. As Mr. Klint departed to send the car away, Aurelia found herself alone with Dante. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, a scrutiny so piercing it almost felt like he was stripping her, skinning her alive, and forcing her soul to bare itself to him. “Maximus, you’re going to burn a hole through me with that stare,” she quipped in bemusement. Dante finally tore his gaze away from her and offered a curt assessment, his words carrying a touch of brutal honesty. “You look horrendous.” Aurelia couldn’t help but snicker at his comment. “Well, you see, that’s what happens when you’re a defenseless bride who pathetically fainted in a pool of murder victims’ blood,” she retorted, her laughter tinged with bitterness. “But I suppose a man of your caliber wouldn’t relate.” Dante’s response was unexpectedly casual. “You didn’t exactly look defenseless,” he observed, his tone offhanded. “In fact, you appeared quite comfortable killing a man.” Aurelia chuckled at his observation. “You think so?” she replied, her tone light and almost playful. “It was my first time, after all. Do you think I did well?” Dante fell silent, caught off guard by her response. Her humor, her candor – it was all so different from the Aurelia he remembered. “You used to hate all this,” he finally remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of what suspiciously sounded like nostalgia. Aurelia’s expression grew wistful as she gazed at him. “Well,” she mused, “if I was going to be married to you, I figured I might as well grow up. Don’t you think so?” Silence settled between them, the weight of their shared history and its complexities lingering in the air. In truth, it was startling for Dante to engage in such a conversation with her, especially one that sounded so casual. Suddenly, Aurelia felt the touch of soft fabric cascading over her cold shoulders. She turned her head to the side and realized it was Dante, offering her his white tuxedo jacket. “There’s no need,” she began to protest, but Dante’s determined tone left no room for complaint or negotiation. “I insist,” he stated firmly. “My family will be there. It would be highly inappropriate for them to see you like this.” Aurelia fell silent once more, her thoughts a swirling tempest as she followed Dante towards the mansion. She didn’t feel the need to thank him for the jacket, considering it the least he could do given the circumstances. Instead, she simply adjusted the tuxedo jacket around her shoulders and continued walking beside him. As they entered the mansion, a reverent hush seemed to settle over the rows of maids and servants. They all bowed respectfully, offering greetings in unison. “Second Master Castellan, Madam Di Angelis-Castellan,” they intoned, their voices synchronized and their postures deferential. Aurelia straightened her back and offered a faint but polite smile. Meanwhile, Dante nodded at them in acknowledgment as he waved his hand for them to be at ease. “Son! You’re finally back! What took you so long?!” From the grand staircase, Evangeline Lovesworth-Castellan's voice echoed, announcing her arrival. She descended the stairs with a grace that belied her age and approached Dante and Aurelia with quick steps. With an air of concern, she tiptoed to cradle Dante’s face, pressing a motherly kiss to his cheek as her eyes scanned him for any injuries. Then, with the same maternal care, her attention shifted to her young daughter-in-law. “Aurelia,” she said gently as she took Aurelia’s hands into her own. “I am so sorry about all this. On behalf of the Castellan clan, we extend our deepest apologies. We are doing our best to catch the perpetrators and deliver them to justice.” At that moment, Aurelia was reminded of the immense power held by this woman, who was not just the mother of her husband but also the current matriarch of the formidable Castellan clan. While Dante wielded his own influence over a portion of the family's underworld empire, Aurelia could scarcely fathom the extent of his mother's authority, especially given the Lovesworths’ own significant sphere of influence. At that moment, Aurelia remembered that this woman was actually the current matriarch of the powerful Castellan clan. Dante himself was already formidable with his own control over a portion of the Castellan underworld empire. Aurelia cannot fathom the amount of power his mother had, especially because the Lovesworths had their own influence. “It’s okay, Matriarch,” Aurelia politely said. Evangeline’s eyes softened as she corrected her daughter-in-law. “Ah, please don’t bother with such formalities. Just call me ‘Mother’ if it’s just among us. Now that you are my daughter-in-law, we are family.” With that, Evangeline continued fussing over Dante and Aurelia, her concern and maternal instincts taking the forefront. Aurelia couldn’t help but feel a sense of entrapment settling in. It appeared that there was no easy escape for her tonight. Considering how Evangeline would definitely take offense with why she refused to be with her son, Aurelia decided not to entertain such an idea. She would be stuck in the company of Dante until tomorrow, under the watchful eyes of his family. “Mother, I believe my wife is tired from today’s events,” Dante said, grasping for an excuse to finally retire for the day. Aurelia felt him naturally swing an arm over her shoulders, but she could feel how gingerly he handled her. “She would appreciate it if she could now prepare for bed.” “Oh of course, of course!” Evangeline giggled as she clapped her hands. “Mr. Klint, please take a couple of maids with you to help Dante and Aurelia prepare for bed. Please take them to the matrimonial bedroom you prepared for them.” Aurelia felt exasperated, the urge to demand her own bed so strong with her aversion to staying with Dante, but she had no choice. She could only keep her mouth shut as she was led away. When they reached the room, Aurelia finally couldn't help it and complained, “I don't need help. I can do things myself.” “Of course, of course!” Evangeline smiled. “You have Dante, he can help you.” Aurelia wanted to die again in embarrassment. Once Evangeline and the others left the room, Dante closed the door behind them. Aurelia, finally feeling a bit of respite, let out a sigh of relief. She trudged towards the closet to rummage through decent clothes she could wear for the night. “The nightgowns are to the left,” Dante pointed out out of nowhere Aurelia slowly turned to him, feeling a sense of novelty that he could actually be this nosy. “Mind your own business,” she said, yanking an oversized shirt and a pair of pajamas from the closet along with some fresh underwear. Ignoring Dante looming in the room, she hastily moved towards the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her, locking it securely. Stripping down, she discarded her stained and bloody bridal gown, leaving herself bare. Tonight, she had no intention of taking a bath. Instead, she opted for a long, satisfying shower. The soothing, mildly hot water cascaded over her skin, relieving the fatigue that had settled into her bones. For those brief moments, it almost felt like things would be okay for her. But as she stepped out of the bathroom, the serene afterglow of the shower quickly vanished as her eyes fell upon her husband, Dante, who she had momentarily forgotten would be her unwelcome companion for the night. Dante had apparently taken a bath as well, his skin still slightly damp, and his hair falling gracefully over his forehead. He looked almost disconcertingly warm and approachable, dressed only in his pajamas, his bare torso exposed, and the shirt he was meant to wear sprawled out on the bed. He seemed engrossed in something on his tablet, scrolling and typing away. Perched on the bridge of his nose were a pair of golden-rimmed glasses, connected to a golden chain around his neck. Aurelia couldn’t hide her discomfort at the sight of him. She couldn’t imagine sleeping with this man on the same bed. Just looking at him made her blood boil in discomfort. She finally broke the silence with a question. “Is there any room outside I can use?” She couldn’t bear the thought of spending the night sharing a bed with him. Dante’s eyes remained fixed on the tablet, and he responded without looking up. “None. Everything is either occupied or needs cleaning.” Aurelia groaned in frustration. “Then where am I going to sleep? You don’t even have a couch in here.” Dante smirked, finally setting aside his tablet. “Well, it’s either you sleep under the bed or on it.” “You’re absolutely infuriating,” Aurelia grumbled as she stalked towards the bed and threw her weight onto the mattress. Dante’s expression grew serious as he turned towards her. “Aurelia, I believe it’s high time we had a talk.”