“Because you’re running.” I spoke like a smartass because I wanted her to know exactly who I was. I was a fucking asshole—all the way through.
“Don’t be a dick.”
“I’m not being a dick. I am a dick.”
She stepped closer to me, like she had a knife hidden somewhere in that skintight dress and she was looking for the perfect place to cut me. “Why did you agree to marry me? If you’re as powerful as my father says, then no one can force you to do anything.”
Only one man could. “It’s my father’s wish.” When she was this close to me, I could smell her perfume, her hair spray, and the scent of the dusty curtains of the opera house all at the same time. I could even smell her confidence because it had a scent…of fresh flowers.
“It’s my father’s wish too, but you don’t see me bending the knee like a pussy.”
My eyes widened because I couldn’t believe something so harsh came from such a pretty mouth. “You’ll be bending the knee with your ass in the air every night if your father’s enemies find you. They’ll fuck you bloody then stab you in the gut until you bleed out and die, scared and alone. Then they’ll hang you in the countryside until the police find your corpse, your eyes plucked out by the crows. I’m your only chance of survival.”
She kept up her fearless stare, but her eyes showed a hint of doubt, like my vivid picture scared her on some level—as it should.
“You’re too stupid to understand how dire your situation is. You literally have two options—life or death.”
She continued to hold my gaze, not backing down or intimidated like most people. She was alone with me, her screams too far away to reach someone who could help her. But she didn’t seem to care about the danger she was in. She didn’t seem to understand the magnitude of her defeat. “Then I choose death.” She gave me a final look of dismissal before she turned around and walked off, her heels echoing against the concrete as she made her way further into the dark night.
5
Arwen
What was I going to do?
I couldn’t marry him.
I wasn’t naïve about my current position. Everything Maverick said was true. I had no options right now. I could either marry him or subject myself to the cruel torture of the men who wanted to punish my father.
I wasn’t stupid.
I was just stubborn.
My life had been perfect before this happened. I loved my job, I loved the man in my bed, and I loved my independent existence in this luxurious apartment. But all of that disappeared with the snap of a finger.
Now I had to give it all up.
Maverick warned me about the men who would hurt me.
But what about him? Who was he?
Would he hurt me just the same?
I grabbed another bottle of wine from the cabinet and uncorked it, the room filling with the sound of the audible pop. I drank directly from the bottle once again, not wanting to hand-wash all the glasses sitting in the bottom of my sink.
A knock sounded on the door—but I wasn’t expecting company.
Then it opened, even though it’d been locked just a moment ago. Maverick emerged into the entryway, wearing dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Last time I saw him, his frame had been hidden underneath a suit, but now his clothing showed muscular arms, thick veins, and narrow hips. When he spoke about his bachelor life, it didn’t surprise me at all. He picked up ass on the town and fucked pussy until he wanted a different flavor. Why be with one woman when he could have them all?
But that didn’t impress me. I’d been with men just like him before. Nothing special about him at all.
A knife was sitting on my table, so I grabbed it and gripped it in my hand, the blade pointed in his direction. “Didn’t your mother teach you to knock?”
“Yes. But I was a terrible child.” He walked farther into the room, making himself welcome when my hostility was unmistakable. He came right up to me and took the bottle from my hand. “Barsetti vineyards… You have good taste in wine.” He helped himself to a drink then sat in one of the dark wooden chairs, resting the bottom of the bottle on his thigh while his fingers still grasped the neck.
I kept my grip on the knife even though he didn’t seem hostile.
He took another drink and eyed the weapon in my hand. “Are you going to smear some butter across my abs?”
My fingers loosened at the mockery. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, or I’ll stab this in your neck.”
“Geez…you are not a lady at all.”
“Did I say I was?”
He set the bottle on the table. “Your father made it seem that way. But I guess he was just trying to make a sale.”