Honeythorn (Honeythorn, #1)

by Marina Vivancos

Perhaps, Milan conceded in his mind, the fury is easier to

feel than fear, loneliness, and sadness. Anger blinds, but it does not cure.

“You can invade my household, poison the minds of my staff, insert your unwelcome nose in my business—but you will never, never, infect my heart, or my soul. This…bond,” he said with revulsion, making a vague gesture, “is nothing. I am your husband on paper, but not in spirit. I will not be yours. I will make sure of it until my dying breath. Do you understand?”