Married to my suspect

Jonathan turned sharply to me at my gasp, and I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I remembered something."

He nodded and turned his attention back to the auction that was about to start, and I sighed in relief. When I'd turned the placeholder, for some reason, something I'd forgotten rushed back into my memory. I'd seen that man before. The man in the picture that was in my husband's room as well as the one in his parents' house was his brother. The brother that the media had speculated on so many reasons for his sudden death, but what I could remember was the fact that rather than it being an accident, his death had been an intentional murder. By his brother, who was now my husband. At least that was the report that had made the rounds at that time.

I stared at Jonathan's side profile as his attention was solely in front. Was Jonathan capable of doing something like that? So far, he hadn't told me anything about himself to the point where he would have mentioned his brother, but he had no reason to do that. I hadn't told him anything about me, either. It was now clear to me the fact that we were both deceiving ourselves, and the fact that one mistake from either of us would be our ruin. The images in his room were now making sense. It was either that he was just like me and was seeking answers, or he was trying to hide answers. For now, I couldn't tell which option I was leaning towards more.

A sound like that of a trumped sounded after everything had been set up and the rules had been explained and the auction started. I smiled when the first item was rolled out on a giant stroller. It was what most people would call an ugly couch. I couldn't tell what it needed more, for it to never see the light of the day again, or a complete revamp. From the covers of the chair to the joke that had been put as a leg. It was a wonder the couch was able to stand with that tiny excuse of a stick. My jaws dropped open as the host stated the beginning price. A hundred thousand dollars. Was he for real? I turned to, but he wasn't paying me any attention. Now, I was curious. Would people pay that ridiculous amount for something that could be found in a thrift store for less than eighty percent of that price?

Yes they did. As well as the other countless and valueless products that were brought out. I had to ask myself where they could have gotten things like that. Was that what rich people referred to vintage, or was it the type of product that people not in this class of wealth couldn't see the value? A perfect example, me. At least it was for charity, otherwise, I would spend countless nights laying awake and imagining what I could have done with the money that was being thrown away.

Jonathan raised his placeholder for the first time since the auction started for a painting that looked valuable that everything they had been bidding on since the auction started. Unlike the other things that had come out, I could see the painting not feeling out of place in a home. Thankfully, Jonathan seemed to share my principle on wasting money on irrelevant and useless things. Something else we had in common, in addition to the large secrets that lay hidden within us. I laughed a little loudly at my joke, and the people seated in front of me turned to frown at me. I smiled apologetically, and they turned back to mind their business. The painting had more interested participants as opposed to the earlier items, I could only shake my head as the host hit the gavel when nobody would make a counteroffer to the five billion dollars a man that had seemingly appeared from nowhere raised.

I glanced at the man only to see him staring at me as well. When he saw he had my attention, he smiled and winked at me, and I couldn't stop the scoff. I turned back and glanced at Jonathan since I didn't have anything to do, and saw he was glaring at the man. I retraced my memory and checked the direction the man had been looking and realized that he had, in fact, not winked at me, but at my husband. I shook my head. Yet another person that hated Jonathan. It seemed they were always at every party we go to. But was I that self-confident to have assumed so easily? Geez, at least I was alone in my embarrassment.

I zoned out as the auction continued, and was jarred back to the present when I noticed the host had been staring in our direction as he spoke. I turned to Jonathan.

"What did he say?" I whispered.

"Pay attention, will you? This next section is specially for family, which means that family will have the priority over whatever item is brought out next." He hissed.

"So what does that have to do with me?" I asked, confused.

"You're also family, and they're probably protesting the fact that we haven't been overly involved. Whatever comes out next, place a bid. The people are curious to know what you sound like." He didn't sound like he was happy about that.

I furrowed my brows, now thoroughly confused. "What if I have no interest in any of the items? What happens next?"

He sighed. "Then you'll probably be called, and an item will be announced as yours. People will rally round to bid along with you, but it is to make sure you will then have to pay the highest price possible. Call it a rite of initiation, plus it's for charity." He said the last line like a rehearsed line.

I rolled my eyes. "Then why didn't you tell me all these? I'm not as wealthy as you are, and I'm not going to bid on anything that will not be useful to me in the next future. I wasn't brought up to waste money like this."

He narrowed his eyes as he glared at me. Thankfully, the host had been distracted by Richard, and they were having a rather intense conversation, from what I could see and no one could tell we wee currently having an argument. "We're married. I don't expect you to spend your own money on things like this. All these are to help me, and so I'm the one paying for them."

I resettled in my seat, feeling as if I was sitting on a stack of pins. "I signed a prenup. I thought that was enough to counter your offer to take care of me."

He breathed out. "This is different from what the conditions in the prenup were. Didn't you read it? He shook his head then proceeded to explain slowly as if he was talking to a nine-year-old or, to put it bluntly, an idiot. "This scenario is more for my own benefit than ours or yours so of course, I have to take care of it. Plus, I don't expect you to throw away money like that. It's going to charity."

I huffed. Way to make me the bad guy. I didn't understand why he was so insistent on making me spend his money. Aside from this situation, which had been more of a miscommunication, if you ask me. I wasn't trying to be stubborn, not at all, but after our wedding, he had insisted that I drive a car from the fleet that was in his garage, he was also the one that was taking care of all my appointments for the parties we'd been going to as well as everything I got from the shops, new clothes, shoes, accessories. So far, the four thousand dollars and eighty-five cents that had been in my account on the day I got married was still there. I hadn't had any reason to spend it, and it was chaffing my pride. It wasn't that I wanted to spend my money on things that obviously didn't look like my duty, I just hated the fact that I was slowly becoming the trophy wife of a wealthy man, a title I'd always disdained, even in books. I was fully capable of taking care of myself, damn it.

"Alright. Thank you."

He shook his head as if I'd just said something stupid. "No need for that, and we'll continue on the topic of the card after the party."

I rolled my eyes. Did I also add the fact that he was insisting on me taking one of his cards to use for my personal needs? If that wasn't a control freak's mentality, I didn't know what it was. Even if I had to drop everything in this marriage; my common sense, caution and sense of fear, for example, I wasn't going to drop my pride. It was the only thing that had kept me almost all through my life, for me to just throw it away to make a man feel better about himself.

*********************************************************************

A woman I didn't know grabbed my hand. "You got married to Jonathan? How did you do it?" I sighed. So far, this was the fifth time this same question was being asked. The auction had ended. I had eventually had to bid on a table I had liked. The dance floor had also been opened, and I'd had to share over five minutes trying not to be awkward as we danced together. Drinks had flowed, and now the night was coming to an end, thankfully. After celebrating the celebrant and saying their well-wishes and a few words, for those that were still sober enough to do so, I had been the next in line, as I'd had so many people coming to ask me questions about Jonathan.

"I don't know. Maybe you could ask him yourself."

The woman blinked, obviously drunk, and she staggered, almost falling down. I held her tighter and searched around for Jonathan. Where had he gone now?

She leaned closer to my ears and I resisted the urge to close my nose. "Want to know a secret?" She yelled into my ears and I winced. She probably had meant to whisper.

I shook my head. "Not particularly." Thankfully, one of the security men there noticed me and took the woman, leading her to the front of the house where rides had been hired for those that didn't have sober partners.

She looked back at me and yelled. "I'll tell you later. Call me." She made to make the sign of the phone with her fingers but got confused and instead waved at me.

I waved back and sighed as I finally saw Jonathan taking his sweet time coming towards me. He was looking around as if he was looking for someone and when he finally saw me, he sped up towards me, his phone on his ears.

"Are you still busy? I need to discuss something with you." He said in a rush and I shook my head.

"No. What's the problem?" I asked, trying to remember if I had done something wrong. I didn't think so. What was the emergency because he was definitely acting like he had an emergency and my relaxing techniques, long perfected through experience, weren't helping. I was sure he could feel how stiff I'd become in his hands as he led me towards our ride.

The man that Jonathan had been glaring at during the auction stopped us as he stood in front of us.

"What's going on?" He asked. "Can I help?"

Jonathan shook his head. "Not now Scott." He said harshly.

Scott moved aside and followed us outside. "I'll call you later. I can do that, right?"

Jonathan glanced at him and without a word, opened my door. He closed it when I had gotten in and went to his side, saying something to Scott that I couldn't catch. Scott nodded and went back inside, and Jonathan entered the car, closing his door. He pressed the button to start the car and we drove out.

"What's going on?" I asked when I couldn't take the suspense anymore.

He glanced at me. "I just received a call from Greece. Eleni was in an accident."