Married To The Devil's Son (WN)
chapter-143

Zamiel walked through the dark streets as rain poured over him. He didn't care about getting soaked or the icy wind that whipped his hair into his face. He could just teleport himself back to his house, but he enjoyed the walk. It helped him clear his mind now that his thoughts and even his feelings were complete chaos. 

Heaven. 

Heaven saved him from hell. 

He laughed cynically to himself. If there was a good reason to kill her father, it would be because he named her Heaven. It felt like he was being mocked. Saved by Heaven to live in another hell. And she, Heaven, was his main torturer. 

Why did she affect him so? The way she begged for her family reminded him of his own. But when he had begged, nothing had changed. Nothing could bring his family back. 

He reached for his arm and removed the piece of clothes from the wound. It had healed. He seemed to be hurting only in her presence. What did she do to him?

The way she had hurried to tend to his wound, left something in his heart. Something he wanted to get rid of. He wanted no feeling for that little girl. And the way her eyes became sad when he told her he was going to leave, it made him hesitate even if it was for a brief moment. How could a person be so naïve? He expected hate after what he did to her, but it had to be the mark affecting both him and her. They would hate each other once it faded away. 

Before knowing he had already reached the abandoned house where he stayed at the moment. It was an old broken house, looking like it was invaded by ghosts. 

With a thought, he took himself inside the house. It was pitch dark, but he didn't bother to light the candles. He could see clearly in the darkness. Walking to his room, he threw himself in his bed without changing clothes. Lying in it felt just like lying inside that coffin. What was the difference? He was alone there, and he was alone here too. 

Closing his eyes, he saw her face. 

Heaven. That little naive girl was nothing like his wife. Yet there was something about her that intrigued him, and he hated to admit it because he wanted to give her no place in his heart. 

The only woman who would ever have his heart was his wife. He still remembered clearly the first time he saw her. She was buying fabric in the market, negotiating with the seller about the price. They seemed to have a disagreement, and the seller was being rude. Unable to just stand by, Zamiel interrupted their argument. 

"Is there a problem?" He asked, turning to her. 

She was wearing a green veil that covered most of her black hair, and her amber eyes were adorned with kohl. 

She avoided to meet his gaze. "My lord, this man wants to sell this fabric for one Daric." 

"My lord, this is the latest fabric, worn by royalty. I am trying to explain it to her, but she doesn't believe me." The seller defended himself. 

Zamiel touched the fabric. It was indeed an expensive one. Pure high quality silk. 

"He is telling the truth. This kind of fabric is expensive." He explained. 

"Oh," the woman looked down, embarrassed. 

"What did you need it for?" He asked. 

"My sister is getting married. I wanted to gift it to her." She explained. 

Zamiel reached inside his sleeve and took out a leather pouch filled with gold coins. When she realized what he was about to do, she held her hands out. 

"No, my lord. You don't have to do that." 

"It's your sister's wedding. I am sure she is looking forward to receive a gift." He said taking out two gold coins and handing them to the seller. "I'll take two." He told the seller.

The woman looked at him, surprised. 

"You need to dress well for your sister's wedding as well." He explained. 

The seller packed two fabrics before handing them over. "Thank you, my Lord. My sister is going to be very pleased. How can I repay you?" She asked. 

"There is no need." He said. 

She looked up at him for the first time and their eyes locked. There was a spark in there and he was sure she felt it too because she looked away quickly as a blush crept to her cheeks. 

"Can I have your name?" He asked. 

"Gamila." She replied. 

Her name suited her perfectly. She was indeed a gorgeous woman. 

"I would still like to repay you." She insisted. 

"Do you sew clothes?" He asked since he already knew the answer.

"Yes." 

"I am looking for a tailor. I live right behind the market in the big white mansion." 

There was only one of that sort, so she wouldn't have a hard time finding it. 

Her eyes widened. "You live there?" She asked.

He nodded. "You are free to come by." He said. 

He tried not to seem desperate. 

"I will." She said surprising him. 

The next day she came by with her sister. He didn't expect any less of her. He knew she wouldn't come alone to a stranger's house. Zamiel asked a servant to show her around and give her the fabrics she needed to sew the clothes. 

Every day, he watched her from a distance, knowing very well she wasn't the type of woman to speak casually with men. She was a woman with a good reputation, and he didn't want to taint that reputation of hers. Yet sometimes he couldn't help but have small conversations with her. 

She didn't speak much, but her words had a great impact. There was maturity and a confidence in her voice that intrigued him. For every time he spoke to her, he found out something new about her that made him fall for her even more. 

If she felt the same way about him he didn't know, but he knew he had an affect on her from the way her voice quivered sometimes when they locked eyes and her cheeks flushed when he caught her looking at him. But she always kept a safe distance from him. She never tried to get close to him or flirt with him like other women usually did. 

One day she knocked on his room. "My Lord, I need to have your exact measurements." She said. 

He was surprised. He never thought she would be willing to come near him this much. But while measuring him, she tried her best to not touch him, and he did his best to stand still and endure the torture of her closeness. 

"I have got what I need. Thank you." She said and hurried away. 

The next time she knocked on his door was to tell him she quit her job. 

"Why?" He asked. 

"People are talking. They say I come here every day and… " 

Zamiel cursed. He did ruin her reputation. 

"Now, no one wants to marry me." She said as tears fell down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly with her veil. 

He walked up to her. "Then marry me." 

She blinked a few times in surprise. "My family is middle class. We don't have much to offer you." 

"You are enough for me." 

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