Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“And what you wanted was ramen?”
I smile for the first time in … I don’t know when, actually. “They had the packages at the little convenience store in the bottom of my dorm. It looked easy.”
“Your mom didn’t want you to learn to cook, either?” He comes out of the pantry with some bottles with what looks like Chinese writing on them.
“It wasn’t important to her, I guess. She was more interested in keeping me thin and stupid so she could marry me off.”
“But I heard you went to college? That’s something.” He glances toward the hall. “Mateo might’ve benefited from some schooling, though education isn’t really his forte.”
“I did.” I push my plate away and stand. “But that’s over now.” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice. The yawning void of disappointment inside me is still there, will probably be there forever. I could’ve had a life, been someone besides just another mafia boss’s wife. But here I am. Trapped.
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be.” He pours a few spoonfuls from the bottles into a pan and flips on the burner. “You never know.”
He’s trying to be kind, but we both know I’m not here to be anything other than a brood mare. Once I give Mateo his children, he’ll likely spend his nights with mistresses. That should comfort me—the idea of being rid of him—but it makes me feel … worse somehow.
“I’ll whip up some different ramen recipes, and you can tell me which ones you favor tomorrow. Sound good?” he asks over his shoulder. “I can get the noodles, but the sauce is what makes ‘em sing.”
I don’t have anything to lose. This house is my prison, but maybe making friends with Carter will be a step toward some sort of freedom. I don’t know.
“Sure.” I ease toward the door.
“If I can’t make better ramen than the instant noodle people, then I may as well hang up my apron.” He starts humming as the smell of soy sauce flavors the air.
I back out of the kitchen, feeling better than when I entered.
Then I bump into the wall.
I turn and find Mateo, his face and chest streaked with blood. Shirtless and feral, he stares me down like I’m his next piece of prey.
A scream rises in my throat, but I don’t let it fly. I choke it down.
He doesn’t say anything, his eyes holding me captive. There’s so much in them I don’t understand. I see violence and anger, but underneath those things there’s more. I’m afraid of the depth of him, because I know if I delve too deeply, I’ll drown. I’m not cut out for a man like Mateo. A man like him will rip me to shreds and leave me bleeding if I let him. That’s why Ferdinand was dead set on getting me out my parents’ house—he knew I couldn’t survive in a marriage like this. He tried to free me, but now I’m caught up even more, trapped in the glare of a man who horrifies me.
I swallow hard.
His gaze drops to my throat, then rises to my eyes again.
I’m afraid to look down at his muscled body, to see the gore that coats him. Even if I wanted to, I can’t break the hold he has on me. His eyes are captivating, terrifying in their beauty.
He reaches out and takes a lock of my hair, rubbing it between his blood-stained fingers. “Soft, princess.”
He’s toying with me.
“You don’t have to do this.” My voice shakes, and I’m certain my knees are trying to give way, but I don’t let them.
“Do what?” The ghost of a smirk crosses his lips.
“Hurt me.” I hate how weak I sound, the fear coating my words.
He steps closer, and I have to lean back to maintain eye contact. I don’t know how I know, but if I make one wrong move, he’s going to pounce.
“I only do things I want to do, princess.” His eyes swallow me up. All I can see is him, looming huge like the moon when it’s on the horizon. “And there are several things I want to do to you.”
“Please don’t.” My words come out breathy, shaky, and goosebumps break out all over my skin.
He releases my hair and runs his finger along my cheek and then down to my throat. “I could snap your neck with one hand.”
A shiver races down my spine, and I gasp as he tightens his grip around my throat.
“D-don’t.”
“Your pulse is racing. Blood pumping.” He presses his nose into my hair and inhales. “You smell like flowers and sugar, and I already know how sweet your cunt will taste.” He shoves me backwards, pinning me to the wall with his body, his heat lighting me up in ways I despise. “But you aren’t sweet, princess. You’re rotten. Just like your entire family.”