Page 77 of Twisted Princess

Once again, I’m hauled out of the car by rough hands.

“I can walk myself,” I snap, wrenching my arm from Mishka’s grasp. I’m tired of being manhandled.

Leon chuckles, and neither says anything as we make our way to the porch. They knock on the front door and enter as soon as we’re invited, Mishka leading and Leon following me inside.

“There she is,” Vincent Kelly says from where he sprawls on an oversized couch. “My fiancée. I’ve missed you, Melody.”

Disregarding the statement that Vinny probably doesn’t mean sincerely, I let my eyes wander around the open-concept floor plan. The spacious living room is finely furnished—aside from the massive empty space where a coffee table would normally be.

Vinny looks perfectly at ease, dressed in joggers and a loose-fitting T-shirt; he’s not dressed up in one of the fine suits I’ve seen him in before. His strawberry-blond curls are in disarray, like he’s just woken up. And if I didn’t know the monster beneath the surface, I might think he looks like a decent man, an ordinary one even.

But I know the truth.

“Is he dead?” Vinny asks, his crooked smile dropping to reveal the malice beneath. And his eyes flick to Leon. He’s asking about Gleb.

Before he can answer, I cut in, taking charge before things get out of hand. “We don’t need to worry about Gleb anymore,” I state, taking a step forward as I force my lips into a smile. “He won’t come between us again.”

Vinny’s eyes scan greedily up and down my body, and his lazy smile returns. “Is that so?”

“Nothing will,” I assure him. “We can get married whenever you want.”

Vinny’s eyebrow lifts in surprise, and he glances between me and the two men he sent to collect me. As if searching for an answer. “I admit I assumed you would have brought your daughter with you,” he states, glancing around again.

The hint of distaste in his tone makes me more grateful than ever that I found a way to leave Gabby in Gleb’s care. And I swallow the bitter resentment that wells up inside me.

“I took care of that, too,” I say, working to keep my voice steady. “I’m ready to be your wife.”

Rising from his seat, Vinny swaggers toward me. “What changed your mind? You seemed so eager to run away before.”

The lie tastes like ash on my tongue—pretending to feel for Vinny when all I want is Gleb. But if I want to ensure Gleb stays alive, I need to make Vinny believe nothing stands between us. “My nerves got the better of me—cold feet because it was so sudden—but I have no more doubts,” I assure him quickly.

Vinny grasps my chin, tipping it up so he can run the pad of his thumb over my lips.

A shudder ripples through me in response, my skin turning clammy with squeamish revulsion.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he says softly in his lilting Irish brogue. “Because I’m ready to get married today.”

I pull my face from his grip, grateful for the space, as I cover the maneuver with a solemn nod. I dread the thought of marrying Vinny, but it’s some small consolation to know that doing so will technically be illegitimate. Because I’m still married to Gleb. But Vinny can never know that.

Heat floods my veins when I think of the brief happiness I found with Gleb.

For a moment, I actually had love. Despite all our challenges, he’s the only man I want. I’m grateful for the time I had with him—fleeting as it was.

“We just need my cousin to bless our union,” Vinny continues. “As the boss, Keoghan gets the final say—not that he’d stop us. Just a stupid Irish tradition.” Vinny shrugs. “Then we can go to the church and make it official.”

The way he says “official” sounds so suggestive, it turns my stomach.

“If you want a big wedding, we can throw a more extravagant party later, renew our vows, the whole nine yards. But tonight, love? We’re consummating our union.” He leans in close, his hands grasping my waist and roaming back to grip my ass. “I’m done waiting to have you,” he assures me, pulling me against him so I can feel his arousal.

I gasp, my hands flying up instinctually to brace against his chest, and I lean as far away from him as I can. Vinny seems completely oblivious to my revulsion, and he holds me firmly against him for several seconds.

His eyes dart down to my lips, and I start to tremble.

God, please don’t kiss me. I swallow hard. If it’s this bad just thinking about his lips on mine, I don’t know how I’m supposed to have sex with him.

“We should wait—until the end of the ceremony,” I suggest, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Then it will feel more special.”

“Hmm.” Vinny releases an amused sound, but thankfully, he lets me go. “Alright. I’ll go get dressed. There’s breakfast on the stove if you want some.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

---