Page 141 of Mine to Ruin

If you send this to anyone else, he’s a dead man.

But I thought our marriage was only on paper? What’s the problem?

I slap my palms against the frame. “Open the door.”

Half an hour later, I drag my sore ass down the hallway and slump into bed. She wants to play, well, she’ll see what it’s like to play with me.

Chapter 52

Ellia

For the first time in weeks. I had fun. The kind of fun that causes belly laughing. I tiptoe outside the bedroom, but there is no trace of him. And here I thought he would attack me by now.

“Kian.” I call out, but there’s no answer. I change into a pair of jeans and a yellow linen shirt and head to my studio. Every time someone peeks their head in, my heart jumps in anticipation of him. Disappointment settles in my chest, hating how in control he is when I want him to break.

Back in the penthouse, I hear a shower. I follow the sounds to the guest room. I ignore the pang of hurt and ruffle his made bed. His head snaps to me and I clench my legs at the visual of water gliding down his carved body. I plant my feet on the floor and flick a strand of hair, pretending to be unaffected. He squirts shower gel in his hands and glides it down his chest and grips his dick and strokes the length leisurely, pumping up and down in hypnotic movements.

“Are you looking for something? You either get in or get out.” I won’t be fooled by that husky voice lowered to silk seduction.

“I think I will remain here.” My heartbeats jump to my throat. His posture changes into one of a hunter. I take a seat at the edge of the bed, raising my chin in defiance. I will not be the one who will lose.

He prowls outside the bathroom, water dripping down. He backs me onto the bed and crawls on top of me. My shirt gets soaked and my nipples pebble behind the lace bra. He lowers his head and his breath caresses my lips.

“Don’t.” My voice shakes with weakness.

“So, you tease me but stop me from fucking you. Is that your plan?”

Our eyes lock in a battle of wills. “I told you, you will never have me again.” I prop myself on my elbows, enjoying the twitch in his muscles. His eyes lose the hooded hue, and they glint with an evil gleam.

“Answer that. Do you think I even want you anymore?”

I bring my face closer to his, our mouths almost touching, and I smile smugly. “Obviously.”

He pushes himself off and disappears inside the walk-in closet, cursing.

It’s as if we follow an unspoken rule, to avoid each other, no more chasing, no more angry cries, or emotional breakdowns. We have never been more civilized, as we greet each other with bowed heads, crack even a good morning, or good evening, depending on when we bump into each other.

Two nights before our wedding, we meet in the closet to get ready. Our friends organized our bachelor and bachelorette parties. I put my fake smile on, and perfect it in the mirror, and he dresses in a pair of jeans, black shirt, and jacket. He looks beautiful, and I wonder if he’ll even come home tonight, and a stab of pain perforates my shattered heart. This is what we do. We stare at each other as we dress. I wear a green sequin dress, and black heels, and my hair flows down my back. I feel beautiful, but empty.

I pat my hands down my dress and he says on a rasp, “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” The doorbell rings and I add, “Have fun.”

They eye us and I wonder if they’ve noticed the tension between us, but then Kian kisses the top of my hair, and I wished it were true. For a second, I wished the reality would be different. I don’t take a glance back, as the girls rush me outside.

My eyes swim in tears as the girls show me a map.

“Every one of these places has a meaning to you, and led you to here and now.”

“And because we think strip clubs are overrated, we planned something else.”

Tara and Aubrey clap their hands, grinning, and their excitement is infectious.

“And it includes a limo.” Tara squeals.

“And a lot of alcohol,” Aubrey says with a bright smile.

The first stop is the college, and memories of my first day flash by. The excitement but also the fear of starting new, the first step of going my way post era of the prodigious child, and the struggles to leave behind my past. We halt at the tree where we met.

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