Page 58 of Bound in Debt
It is.
My document dealer is a damn rat.
“He says you’re looking for a new identity. One that can get you out of the country.” Liam pins me with a smug look, confident that nothing at Thronewood gets past him, especially not if it involves me or his plans to run off with my trust fund. “What would you need to run away for, Vee?”
I scoff and shake my head and work to sell my newest lie. “Ellie was just messing with him.” I glance back down at my notebook and pretend I find my notes captivating. Unfortunately, nothing could distract me from the hamster wheel my brain is running on right now. “If I knew he was that gullible, I would’ve just done it the long way.”
“Done what the long way?” Liam presses, clearly unconvinced. His leg jumps nervously under the table, and I know he’s paranoid about me—and his meal ticket out of here—planning to ditch him before he can marry my money—I mean me.
Liam isn’t an idiot.
He might be a douchebag, but he wouldn’t be at Thronewood University if he didn’t have the brains to get in. No amount of money can buy you an acceptance letter here unless you have the grades to match.
“Getting a passport,” I disclose, writing down whatever words come to mind as I pretend to work. Then I abruptly stop and glance over at him. “You were going to take me on a Paris honeymoon after the wedding, right? Not some road trip to Vegas or some?—”
“Of course, I was going to take you on a honeymoon,” he quickly agrees. He’s a big, fat liar. It’s all in how he refuses to look at me, his gaze flicking to everything but me. “Vegas is for the bachelor party.”
I roll my eyes. Like I care. “Of course, you are, Liam. Make sure your boys don’t post any pictures online or I’m going to get pissed.”
Liam leans back, slinging his arm along the back of my chair as he finally starts to relax. He thinks I’m imagining him living it up at a strip club or fooling around with some other girl. It’s a stroke to his ego to think I’m that possessive, that jealous of him.
I’m not.
I know exactly who he is—a cheating loser who I can’t wait to cut loose. Why he would believe I’d give a shit about what he does after I caught him making out with someone else at the party two weeks ago… Well, guess Liam isn’t all that smart when it comes to women.
“You feeling territorial, babe?” he taunts, trying to rile me up enough that he can spin our fight into a makeup fuck later. “You know I’m not gonna be thinking about anyone else but you.”
Wow.
Does he really think I’m that dumb?
“And where can I go?” It’s time to push back. “What’s that strip club with all the guys?”
Liam narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t think so.”
“If you think I’m stupid enough to believe you’re not planning on doing the same thing?—”
“You’re not going to a strip club, Vee,” he bites out, dropping the teasing tone. “I’m willing to allow you to do a lot of things, babe, but embarrassing me isn’t one of them. We have a reputation to uphold. And my wife is going to be on her best behavior. You can do whatever you want within those limits.”
“And what about you?” I argue. I hit my limit about three seconds into his little fanfiction of what our married life will look like. “I’ve lived that life, Liam. I behaved plenty. But I’m not about to let you make a fool of me by drooling over your flavor of the week?—”
Liam slams his fist on the table, making me jump but I refuse to be cowed.
“This isn’t a one-way street. Think long and hard about everything you want from me, Liam, because mark my words… If you mess with me, I’ll light your whole world on fire.”
He rises, his chair squealing in protest at the sudden movement. The noise draws the attention of every other library patron on the floor and I cringe.
“You prissy ass bitch,” he snarls, his eyes filled with raw hatred. “You’re lucky that I’m marrying you.”
“Says who?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
I glance over my shoulder trying to gauge who might be watching his tantrum before Liam’s thick fingers wrap tightly around my jaw. I can feel his fingertips pressing firmly into my skin—if he isn’t careful, he’ll leave bruises.
Mocha eyes glower down at me with fury and I actually tremble in response to how much angry heat is radiating off him. “Don’t even think about skipping our wedding, Victoria. It’d be an embarrassment I’d never forget. Consider your choices, carefully, because I know exactly what Ellie is telling you to do.”
“She hasn’t?—”
