Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Maria gapes in horror. “Is she alright?” she shrieks. “She just destroyed a two hundred-thousand-dollar dress. You will be paying for that.”
“No,” Luce says, her brows pulling down and her hand on her stomach. “You fed your guests bad crab. We shouldn’t have to pay for your mistake. We should talk to the media. This whole wedding has been a fiasco. First, there was the scuffle in the church and now this.”
Fuck, yeah. Go, Luce!
Her mom raises her chin, completely agreeing with her daughter. “Lucy is right. You should be ashamed. What an embarrassment.” She puts her arm around her daughter and starts pulling her away. “Come on, dear. Let’s get you to a doctor. These people have poisoned you.”
I don’t think I have ever experienced such a beautiful takedown of Maria Valentine in my life. That was a moment I plan on cherishing until my dying days.
It sucks that Luce is now gone and that I have Maria trying to play the doting parent in front of her friends, fixing my dress as best she can, but I don’t even care because Luce has left me with the best gift ever; a fighting chance.
Chapter 13
Marcus walks through the door of his ridiculously big mansion. I mean, Maria and Lucien’s place is a fucking joke with its size, but this is three times as big. This place screams ‘I’m an arrogant asshole’ and now the arrogant asshole’s house is mine.
“Hurry up,” Marcus scowls as I dawdle in behind him, so exhausted from the massive day. My whole body aches but I know the excitement has only just begun. He’s going to insist on touching me tonight. After all, he just signed on the dotted line and paid a lot of money for me. He’s going to want to reap the rewards.
It’s going to be fun putting my trusty knife to good use. I wonder if mom and dad would be proud? Hell, I know Blake and Slade would be.
I follow him in through the massive front doors as a driver takes off in his Ferrari, probably to go and park it in the garage which no doubt houses hundreds of expensive cars.
We walk in through a massive foyer and I roll my eyes at the double staircase that wraps around both sides of the foyer. This is insane and while it might be impressive, it smells like desperation, pain, and money.
The house is in pristine order with maids shuffling around, even at three in the morning. There isn’t a dust mite in sight and as we’re noticed, they instantly stop their work, turn and bow their heads.
What kind of weird fuckery is this? Who gets their maids to bow to them?
What have I just gotten myself into?
Marcus walks ahead, not waiting for me to catch up, just expecting that I’m running along like a good little wifey. “Right, starting first thing in the morning, you’ll be meeting your assistant. She will set you up with your schedule and fill you in on your appointments.”
Okay…that one got me.
“Appointments?”
“Yes. There will be events in which you will be attending in my place, you will have your hair done every two weeks, a beauty appointment, trainer, and dietician. I will also be setting you up with my doctor and getting you on suitable birth control. You will also have a meeting with a stylist tomorrow. Those clothes Maria sent over are disastrous. My wife will not be seen in low-quality clothes.”
My brow raises. Low quality? Maria only wears the best of the best. I doubt that she’s ever stepped foot into Target, actually, she probably wouldn’t even know what Target is. I’d hate to think what Marcus’ version of good quality costs, but what does it matter? He won’t be dressing me up like some kind of doll. I’ll be wearing my ripped jeans and tank like I always do. Hell, maybe I’ll even surprise him and throw on a leather jacket.
“Apart from these appointments, which will be chaperoned by your assistant and my bodyguards, you will be reading up on the latest politics and keeping yourself educated on world issues. This will be done within the walls of my home. At no point are you to step outside of the property gates without my approval. You may venture outside with your trainer or use the pool for exercise. However, the indoor lap pool would be better suited. If you would like to use the swimming facilities, it will be done with modesty. No bikinis or scantily clad clothes. I will not tolerate my staff ogling your body. That is mine.”
Well, shit. I was just about to say that the deal wasn’t all that bad until he had to go and throw in that possessive bullshit. I might technically be married to him, but I am certainly not his. Hell, I bet there are some chicks out there who would willingly marry this guy to reap the benefits of his wealth and possessions, but not me. I prefer my freedom.