Page 87 of Sinful Bride

He fists his good hand in his hair and yanks. Clumps of the stuff come out, stuck between his fingers. “I didn’t even want to marry her! But she wouldn’t shut the fuck up and let me think for two goddamn minutes! And now, look! My life is shit!”

A part of me is genuinely worried about him. The more he rants and raves, the wilder the look in his eyes gets. Lev was right—there’s no telling what a person this unhinged will do.

Another part of me is feeling vindicated. Lie with the dogs and get fleas, asshole.

But I’m watching his every movement. Wary of his next step, his next flinch, his next darting of eyes around like he can’t focus on one thing for longer than a millisecond.

The last time he was like this, he tried to rape me in Hazel’s hallway.

I ball my fists to stop my fingers from trembling. “I’m serious. You need to leave.”

“Leaving you was the worst mistake I ever made.”

“I promise that leaving right now will be your best decision.”

The buzzing of my phone back on the kitchen counter underlines my point. I hear it vibrate a few times, stop when it goes to voicemail, and then start up again.

Pasha must be trying to call me.

This is not going to go well for Conrad. I know what will happen once Pasha and his men get here.

The question is… am I okay with that?

“Daphne, please.” His voice cracks with desperation. He grabs me by my arms and pulls me close to him. I can smell the alcohol and something rancid on his breath. “Please, baby. We can make this work! We can start over!”

I shove hard against his chest. “Get off of me.”

“You’re mine, Daph! You were always mine!”

“I’m married, you asshole!” This time, I’m able to at least pry myself away enough to breathe. His horrible smell has me gasping for air. “Take the hint and get the hell out of my house!”

“He’s brainwashed you!” Conrad waves his arms around. “I don’t know what it is or how he did it, but this guy brainwashed you against me! He’s a criminal, for fuck’s sake!”

“So are you!”

“No. No. No, no, no…” He shakes his head back and forth. The more he does, the more it looks like he’s trying to shake it off.

This man is seriously unhinged.

“No. It’s a mistake. It’s all a mistake. I made a mistake.”

“Conrad, I need you to calm down. Take a few deep breaths?—”

He grabs my arm again. “I’m sorry, Daphne. I’m so fucking sorry. This is all a huge fucking mistake. I swear, I’m gonna do right by you. I’ll—I’ll—I’ll raise your baby, too! I’ll love her like she’s my own?—”

Oh, fuck no. Absolutely not.

But as much as I want to go absolutely ballistic on this creep for even mentioning my daughter, the tightness of his clamp on my forearm is a sickening reminder that, creep or not, he’s still a hell of a lot stronger than me.

I try to keep my panicked breath steady even as my pulse races. I need to appear calm; I need to keep him focused on me.

I need to keep him away from my daughter.

“Let’s talk about us,” I suggest.

“Yes! Yes.” Conrad smiles with relief and pulls me into his arms. God, even his sweat reeks of something sour. When he cups my face in his hands, it feels so hot and clammy and gross. “Us. Let’s talk about us.”

Lev is downstairs. The others are right outside the building, along with the feds.

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