Chapter 143: Who the hell does that?!

He wraps his fingers around the ring and fr a moment, he simply stares at it, his jaw tightening as he closes his fist.

Then he reaches for my arm.

"Come on. Let’s go somewhere."

I blink at him. "What? Why? But we just got here."

"Yeah, and we need to leave. I’ll bring you back some other time."

Before I can ask what the hell he means by that, he is already pulling me towards the door.

"Lysander, wait..."

He ignores me, practically dragging me out of his office. He locks the door behind us, slips the key into his pocket, and starts down the stairs.

I glance at him, trying to make sense of what is happening. We make our way through the club, past the bar and the people enjoying their evening. A few men greet him as we pass, but Lysander barely acknowledges them. His hand remains firmly around mine until we reach the exit.

Outside, he opens the passenger door of his car and waits for me to get in.

I hesitate.

"Are you going to tell me where we’re going?"

"Get in, Nerissa."

I roll my eyes and climb inside. He shuts the door, walks around the car and gets behind the wheel. A moment later, the engine starts, and we pull away from the club.

I watch him from the corner of my eye.

His expression is unreadable. Both hands rest on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The ring I had placed in his palm is nowhere to be seen now.

I swallow.

"Lysander?"

Nothing.

"Where are we going to?"

When he doesn’t answer, I shift in my seat, suddenly feeling a little less brave than I did in his office.

Okay. Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe handing him my wedding ring and repeatedly telling him our marriage wasn’t real wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

But did he really have to look like he was about to murder someone?

"I’m sorry, okay?" I mutter

Still nothing.

"Can you just take me back to the house?"

His silence makes my anxiety worse.

I glance at the door, then at him. When he doesn’t respond, I reach for the handle and try to pull it open....the car suddenly swerves slightly as Lysander reaches across and hits the lock button.

"What the hell, Nerissa!"

He turns towards me, his expression thunderous.

"Did you really just try to move out of a moving vehicle? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Well, I don’t know where the hell you’re taking me!" I snap back. "You’re sitting there looking all pissed and shit, refusing to answer me. What am I supposed to do?"

His hand moves through his hair, and he gives it a frustrated tug.

"Fuck. You’re going to be the death of me."

I fold my arms, deciding to ignore the remark.

"Well? Where are you taking me?"

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he keeps driving until we eventually pull up in front of a shop.

I look through the windscreen, then turn my attention to the sign above the entrance.

It’s a tattoo shop.

I stare at it then I turn slowly towards him.

"WWhat are we doing at a tattoo shop?"

He parks, gets out and walks around to my side. When he opens the door, I look up at him suspiciously.

He holds out his hand but I don’t take it.

"Why are we here?"

"Come on. Let’s go in. The tattoo artist is an old friend of mine."

"Still doesn’t explain what we’re doing here."

"What do you think?"

He takes my hand and pulls me out before I can come up with another argument. I stumble slightly, trying to catch up with his long strides while mentally attempting to understand what the hell is going on.

A tattoo shop.....He brought me to a tattoo shop.

What exactly does this man have planned?

When we step inside, I immediately look around.

The place is mostly empty, save for a young man working on an older woman whose face is contoured in pain. She’s laying down with her legs spread in front of him while he concentrates on tattooing her.

My eyes follow the movement of his hand.... I look at the woman, then back at the young man.

Is that.....is that her pussy?

My eyes bulge.

Oh my God.

Who in the freaking hell tattoos their pussy?

I quickly look away, pretending I haven’t just witnessed something that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life.

Luckily a voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Well, if it isn’t Don Sanchez."

I turn towards the sound to see a bald man covered in tattoos approaching us. His tattoos run from his arms all the way up his neck, with several markings covering his completely bald head.

Who tattoos their bald head?

I blink, momentarily distracted by the amount of ink on this man’s body.

"What’s up, man?" Lysander greets him.

The two exchange a handshake that turns into one of those manly hug combinations.

I stand beside Lysander, watching them.

"Didn’t know you were still alive," the bald man jokes. "You don’t come around anymore."

"Been busy."

"Clearly."

Lysander places a hand on my lower back pushing me forward a bit.

"Wanted to stop in and officially introduce my wife then see if you had a minute for a couple of small ones."

My head turns sharply towards him.

A couple? A couple of what? Tattoos?

I suddenly become very alert.

"Congratulations, man. Didn’t know you got married." The man looks at me and grins. "My name’s Nico."

I offer him a cautious smile.

"Nerissa."

"It’s a pleasure, Nerissa."

He turns back to Lysander.

"I’ve definitely got time. You going first?"

"Wait. What’s happening here?"

I blurt it out before either of them can continue.

Lysander doesn’t even look at me.

"Yeah," he answers Nico, completely glossing over my obvious distress.

"That’ll give her a few minutes to decide where she wants hers."

If my eyes go any wider, I risk having one pop right out of its socket.

"Excuse me?"

Both men finally look at me.

"You can’t just roll up here and try to get me a freaking tattoo!"

"Why not?" Lysander asks.

I stare at him.

Why not? Was he seriously asking me why not?

"Because... Because..."

Well, shit.

Why couldn’t I get a tattoo? I mean, it wasn’t as though there was some law forbidding me from getting one. I had never really thought about it, but I wasn’t particularly against tattoos either.

Papa would probably frown if he saw me walking around with ink on my skin. He had always been particular about certain things...But Papa wasn’t here anymore.

And if I ever decided to get a tattoo, I would do it because I wanted one. Not because my husband had dragged me into a tattoo shop after an argument demanding I get one.

I look between the two men.

"What are you even getting?"

Lysander finally turns his attention fully towards me.

"I’m putting your name on my ring finger."

I blink.

"My name?"

He steps closer, his eyes anchoring me to the spot.

"And we aren’t leaving here until my name is on you."

My mouth parts slightly.

"Preferably on your ring finger," he continues, his voice dropping. "So next time, even when you remove my ring, a make shift of my ring is still there on your finger."

He pauses, looking directly into my eyes.

"That way, you know this is real. This marriage is real."