Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
The words hit me hard, and the tears stream down my face. He killed my father. The reality. The truth, and I let him own my body, let him steal my innocence because I forgot my fucking sense. I push him off me and he rolls onto his back. I ignore the pain of his girth exiting my sore body and rush into the bathroom.
I vomit, kneeling over the toilet, crying. I feel him come into the room before I hear him. “You cry over nothing. Those are wasted tears, my little one. It changes nothing. Tomorrow you will still be my wife, and he will still be dead.”
“You are a monster.” I turn to see him already half dressed in a pair of pants like what happened was nothing while I sit naked on the floor, feeling broken.
“I believe you said that already. I assure you that I’m not the monster, but if you don’t want to marry me, I can show you the monster I can be.”
“I don’t need to marry you to be your whore. I don’t need to be tied to an animal.” For a minute I felt as though what we had was more than just a fuck. Then reality struck. He’s the devil and I’m a fool.
“Enough. Get some rest, my beauty. You need your sleep, and I have matters that need my attention.”
“Please don’t hurt my brother,” I plead. It’s the only thing I care about, honestly. My life wasn’t going anywhere before my father died and I was trapped in the house with people wanting to snatch me before Konstantin did.
“I told you I would not. I am a man of my word. You will one day see that is true, Daniella. Goodnight.” He closes the door with a look of indignation as if I insulted him. I’m the one who was used. What’s most depressing is that I hate myself for still wanting the asshole to want me. It’s so freaking sick.
Chapter Five
Konstantin
After dressing quickly, I leave the bedroom before she has a chance to come out of the bathroom because the anger at her insult burns deep. She’d rather be my whore than my wife. What the fuck kind of bullshit is that? Did she know of her father’s deal to sell her? Was she in agreement for a cut? No. I can’t believe that beauty, the one fleeing from danger when we arrived, was out to sell herself, but still. I offer her a life with everything as my queen, but she’d rather be a piece of fucking meat for me just so I can get my rocks off.
I run down to my gym because I need to work off this energy before I lose my cool. Several of my guards are concerned, and I’m sure Grigor will be down here to see if everything is alright. I get two punches in when he appears, adjusting his shirt.
“You didn’t have to get up. I’m okay.”
“You’re down here punching a bag when you should be in bed with your soon-to-be wife. I doubt you are well.”
“It’s nothing that I shouldn’t have expected. I am the enemy, after all.”
“So that stone-cold heart of yours has thawed a bit.”
“Only for her, so if I were you, I’d be careful.”
He tosses his hands up and takes a step back. “Remember to take it easy and be gentle. She’s been through a lot and has reason to be upset.” It’s already too fucking late for all of that because I’d gone in rough and brutal, finishing with a smile as I informed her that I killed her father.
I beat the bags until I’m too bone tired to stand and then I hit the shower. I creep back into my bedroom to find her asleep on the chair by the window with her knees into her chest. “I’m sorry, Daniella.” She sleeps soundly as I tuck her into bed. I press my lips to her head, and for a moment I feel like something has opened in my heart. Walking out the door, a new resentment builds in my body for her father and the divide his worthlessness has created.
****
It’s been two days since she made that offer to me and I’ve been stewing, leaving her to her own devices around the house while I handle my own business, but I can’t get past her offer. We should have been celebrating her birthday with a lot of fucking and a wedding, but she had to be difficult. It almost makes me feel terrible, but then I remember how sick I make her.
I’ve stopped all plans for the wedding and haven’t put my hands on her since. Things have gotten messy outside of the house as well.
She’s been upstairs with the stylist all morning, and it’s been killing me that I haven’t seen her. I quickly walked in before she woke up and gathered my things to dress for the day.