And he deserved it.
“What do you want?” I sat up on the bed and folded my arms beneath my breasts.
His eyes dropped to my cleavage, and he licked his lips. “I haven’t seen you since the party. Just checking on my fiancée.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like you give a shit about me.”
He sat on the bed and grabbed my wrist. “Where’s your engagement ring?”
I glared at the massive diamond on my dresser, and he followed my line of sight with his eyes. The second the party ended, I stripped it off and showered for thirty minutes to get the feel of Rhys off my skin.
I wanted to cry.
Scream.
Run away.
Once again, my grandfather condemned me to a life of misery. Like it wasn’t bad enough that he ruined my childhood and forced me to live in fear. He looked so smug as I said yes to Rhys, soaking up every second of my pain.
“Put it on,” he hissed. “The ring belonged to my great-great-grandmother. It’s a family heirloom. I wouldn’t put that ring on just any woman’s finger.”
“No?” I cocked my head at him. “What makes me so special?”
He slid off the bed, grabbed the ring from the dresser, and shoved it onto my finger so hard my knuckle hurt. “I’ll get more than this ring is worth when the old man gives me the dowry.”
I laughed. “Dowry? This isn’t the Middle Ages.”
“You didn’t know, did you?” He waggled those dark, sexy eyebrows at me, and I hated how much I used to love it when he did that. “Fitzy owes three billion dollars to your husband in exchange for taking you off his hands.”
I held back my shock, staring at the comforter so he couldn’t see my reaction. “My grandfather is worth a lot more than three billion. That’s pennies to him.”
He rolled his broad shoulders like he didn’t have a care in the world. A pretty boy like Rhys never did. He was used to everything being handed to him on a silver platter.
“So you got close to me for the money?”
He nodded. “This was never personal, princess. I have a pretty face and a big dick, which I used to manipulate you. You met my parents. They’re sharks. For me, this has always been about survival.”
“I was just a game to you? Didn’t feel like it that night on the Ferris wheel.” I folded my legs beneath me, biting back the urge to punch him in the face. “You only turned into an asshole after we had sex. Why did you even bother getting to know me? Why did you take me on dates? You could have lied and told my grandfather we had sex to get what you wanted. You didn’t have to use me. Film me. Humiliate me and make me feel like shit.”
“I like you,” he said with his fingers inches from mine on the mattress. “That’s never been the problem. You’re a sexy little thing with a tight pussy and lips that were made to suck my cock.” He leaned closer, and the scent of his cologne filled my nostrils. “But you were always a means to an end for me. This won’t be a traditional marriage. You’ll fuck me, suck me, and do whatever I tell you if you want to stay alive. Because once your grandfather washes his hands of you, no one will save you. Especially not him.”
Rhys took one last look at me before pushing himself up from the bed. Without another word, he left my room, keeping the door ajar.
Cole usually locked my door for protection. But since my monster of a fiancé forgot to close the door, I decided to see if Cole was home. We hadn’t spoken since he left to meet with Drake the night before. He’d been busy with stuff for The Knights, leaving me alone with his mom for most of the day.
Dressed in black booty shorts and a skimpy tank top that barely hid my nipples, I padded downstairs. It was dark and late, so I didn’t expect to run into anyone. And I wanted to catch Cole off guard if he was home.
We hadn’t been together since he took my virginity. I wanted him, even if it was only one more time. I needed to experience everything I would be missing once I married Rhys. Cole had once told me I would find him in one of two places—the library or the game room.
So I opened the door to the game room, which was more like an adult arcade with a bar and couches, and locked it behind me.
Cole was alone on the leather couch with a drink in his hand. His blue eyes traveled up and down my thighs several times before landing on my face. “It’s late, Grace. You should go back to bed.”
He looked slightly drunk, and he must have been because he didn’t seem to realize my door should have been locked.
“I don’t want to sleep.” Inching toward him, I pushed out my breasts, which weren’t big but were falling out of the tight top. “I wanted to see you.”
He turned away from me. “I’m not in the mood to talk. I have a lot on my mind and need to think.” He raised the glass in his hand. “And get drunk.”