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He smells like forbidden temptation and impending disaster.
“If you are actually my husband, then look at me when you give me my fucking wedding ring.”
“And yet you ended up marrying the person you hate the most. The irony.” “The horror.” “The reality, Mrs. King.” “Stop calling me that.” “But you are.
A burst of laughter rips from his cruel lips and fills the car with a dreadful undertone before it comes to a sharp halt. “There will be no divorce, Mrs. King.” “Well, I demand it.” “Demand declined.”
“I’m high maintenance.” “Just the way I like it.”
“I have extremely expensive tastes.” “Good thing I come from old money and I’m rich enough to outshine a few countries’ GDP.” “I’ll drive you crazy.” “Nothing new there.” “I don’t like you.” “That’s because you love me.” “In your damn dreams. I’m way out of your league.” “I can rope you back in if I choose to.”
I knew things didn’t add up, but I hadn’t thought I’d make a deal with the devil to put a stop to the ticking bomb in my head.
I jerk away. “It was an accident.” “One of many.” “Stop it.” “Stop what?” “Being a dick, for starters.” “And now we’re talking about my dick. That desperate, huh?” “Hell will freeze over before I let you touch me, Eli.”
“I already touched you. If I want to fuck you, you’ll bend over and take it.” “Lie.” My whisper is barely audible as my chin trembles. “Want to bet?”
“You’re messing with me because I lost my memory. I’d never sleep with you.” “There was no sleeping involved. I must say I wasn’t impressed, but I can give you a chance for a redo.” “Fuck you.”
I clearly remember making a promise to myself that I’d never cry because of Eli again. Never, ever again.
Because I realize with crushing clarity that I’m mourning a part of me that I thought meant something. Something I wanted to only give up for love and yet I handed it over to the devil on a silver platter. What the hell have I done?
Uncle Aiden told me in gloating detail how he won a one-million-dollar bet against Papa and also how he’s my and Eli’s number one supporter for no other reason than to piss Papa off.
“You leave my sight for one minute and you’re already wreaking havoc, Mrs. King.”
Or else I wouldn’t be so terrifyingly excited at the promise of danger in his eyes.
“I’m warning you, Eli. You can’t control me. The more you force me, the harder I’ll rebel.” “The harder you rebel, the more insufferable I become.” “You’re always insufferable.” Can’t argue with that. I steal a glance at her
“You, prick. And here I thought I was the one with the memory loss.” “In sickness and in health, Mrs. King.” “I hate you.” “By all means.” “If I wasn’t struggling and didn’t feel guilty about implicating my parents, I’d never stay with you.” “Lucky me.” “If I had a redo, I’d marry any man but you.”
Don’t believe anything my cousin Landon tells you. He’s not my competitor or my counterpart.
“You and I both know I’ve brought the most profit to the company since I became CFO, and my numbers are only exceeded by you and Uncle Levi. So how about you be proud of me and consider stepping down sometime soon with Uncle so I can do things my way?” “If your way is alienating possible partners by keeping their children on
a leash and threatening to expose, imprison, or have them killed, then I’ll have to pass.”
“If you have a choice between being loved and hated, it’s better to be hated.”
“I don’t trust your destructive methods.”
“If you don’t focus and step up your game, Landon will come after your position.”
“He’s studying for an MBA at Harvard. We both know he’ll speed through it like lightning and roll back in here for your throne, even if it’ll be purely out of spite and to prove himself to Levi and my father.”
“The moment you think you’re in a competition with your wife, you’ve already lost, son.”
It’s not the stranger. It’s my fucking wife.
So yes, I might not fight with words, but I’m still as vengeful as a ghost.
“He’s my cousin, but he’s an emotionless prick who collects little girls' broken hearts in a jar and then sacrifices them to his demons. Don’t be a heart in a jar, Ava.”
“That’s what happens when you touch what you shouldn’t, Ava. You get hurt.”
And then he’s walking away, leaving me with a shattered dream, a broken heart, and a deep, crushing hatred for love. And him
Apparently, I offended the mighty Eli King by confessing my naive feelings, so he set out to ruin my life.
The more I act out, the harder he squashes me. The stronger my reaction, the more brutal his consequences.
but there’s a deadlier part of him that survives on psychotic viciousness.
But I have no regrets. I needed a psycho to battle a psycho.
Eli doesn’t get to mess with me and obtain an easy life in return. My parents taught me to hit back twice as hard and never back down.
Partly because I don’t understand the cryptic look in his eyes.
“Is that sarcasm?” “I didn’t peg you as someone who can’t handle compliments. You seem to ask for them any occasion possible.” “I didn’t peg you as someone who compliments people.” “Not people. You.”
“Making yourself rich and the world population poorer is the only thing that turns you on. Is there a paraphilia for money fetishization?”
Talk about fiery chemistry. The type I’ll never have.
“Get a room.” I pout. “Some of us live a life that’s as dry as the desert, you know.”
My husband is a scheming, manipulative sociopath. If he feels I’m snooping where I shouldn’t, he might shut down any available routes to find out the truth.
I’m stuck several years back, in a muddy swamp of lethal emotions, numb awareness, and sudden breakdowns.
It’s tragically unfair that the devil looks mouthwateringly tempting. No wonder people sell their souls. I’m dangerously close to offering mine up for pennies.
Who cares about Eli’s opinion of me? He doesn’t like me, never did and never will, as he so blatantly put it. Our marriage is merely a business transaction that plays in both our favors.
The show from earlier is the last time you let another man touch what’s fucking mine. Are we clear?”
Eli stands behind me, looming, like a God of War right in the middle of battle. His fingers tangle in my hair, gripping tightly as his dark, commanding eyes bore into mine.
“You will look at your face when you come on my fucking fingers. The ring you wear isn’t a decorative item, Mrs. King. You’re my wife. My property. Fucking mine. It’s time you properly start acting the part.” “Not yours…”
But the reminder of bleeding lips and a broken heart makes me say, “I’m not yours, husband.” And then I fall.
Only good girls get rewarded.”
The part that’s made it my mission to steal her, cage her, and allow her no way out.
