Page 7 of We're Not Strangers Anymore

As we drive through the night, I can’t help but think about breaking her, bending her to my will, it's a heady rush. She may hate me now, but in time she’ll come around. She’ll have no choice. She’s already agreed to go on a date with me so getting her to comply with the situation shouldn’t take too long. Getting her to want me the way I want her shouldn’t take long either.

“This is just our beginning, Rowan. You’re mine.” I say, a dark smile playing on my lips.

She glares at me defiantly.

“I’ll never be yours and nothing isours.”

“Oh on the contrary Mrs. Santoro. According to the state of Illinois, you and I are married.” I lean my head back on my seat, waiting for her to find her words.

She blinks, her expression shifting from fear to confusion.

“Did you say Santoro? And that’s impossible, I’d need to agree to being married.”

I can’t help but smirk at her innocence. “I figured you’d be familiar with the name. With the right connections and enough money, it’s possible to have a marriage license issued without the other party’s knowledge.”

Her jaw drops, and she stares at me in disbelief.

“Are you fucking insane? There’s no way that’s even legal.”

“Legal enough,” I reply casually, “I have friends who owe me favors. Your signature and identification– it was all taken care of.”

She shakes her head violently, as if trying to wake herself from a nightmare. “This can’t be real. There’s no way you could have done that.”

“Believe me, Rowan,” I say, turning my full attention to her. “It’sveryreal. As of yesterday, we are legally husband and wife.”

We talked all night last night and she had no idea the entire time I was her husband. Admittedly, it gave me satisfaction knowing that last night.

Her breathing quickens. “Why would you do that? What the hell do you gain from making me your wife?”

I pause, trying to choose my words carefully again. “Control, for one. It gives me leverage over you, and by extension, your father. It also binds you to me in a way that’s hard to break. You’ve saved yourself for marriage, right?” A sly smile curls my lips.

She glares at me, fury burning her eyes. “I’ll fight this. I’ll get it annulled. And nope, I gave up waiting a long time ago so don’t even try.”

“You can try, assuming you’ll be able to escape.” I say, my tone hardening. It’s cute she’s trying to lie about not being a virgin, just like her father tried lying about stealing my money.

Rowan turns her face away, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I reach over, gripping her chin and forcing her to look atme. “This is your reality now. The sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for you.”

She wrenches her head free, hatred blazing in her eyes. “I’ll never accept this. Oryou.”

My smile is cold, calculated. “We’ll see. In time you might find our arrangement isn’t as unbearable as you think.”

I have all the time in the world to snuff out her defiance. To break her. As the miles roll by I can’t help but take it as a challenge. A dark thrill. She’s mine now, in every way that matters. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her see that.

Rowan

I wake up in the car slumped over on the window as we pull into a long, asphalt winding driveway. My eyes widen when we pull up to a carved gray stone mansion, with wrought iron balconies and arched windows draped in heavy burgundy curtains. It’s dark and luxurious, like something you would see in a movie, but also what I imagine a vampire would live in. Is this supposed to be my prison? A luxury mansion that’s a thousand times bigger than my shitty Detroit apartment?Wow I’m shaking in my boots.This guy isn't going to scare me. I won’t let him. I willneverlet a man scare me again. I don’t care if he’s a fucking Santoro. That stopped meaning anything to me years ago. I know of his family, granted notmuch– but enough to know what they do. They won’t kill me over their issue with Frank.

Grayson opens my door and guides me up the white marble steps to the tall black double doors into his house, his grip is firm but not unkind. I hate how his touch makes my skin tingle, I should be repulsed by him. My hands are still bound but my feet are free now. He insisted on keeping my hands tied “for safety,” as if I’m the dangerous one.

“I’ll show you to our room, get cleaned up. The designer will be here in an hour.”

Ourroom?

“Yourroom.” I snip, as he leads me up the staircase and into a large master bedroom decorated in all black and gold with tinted floor to ceiling windows on the back wall.

“You’ll get used to it,” he replies smoothly.

I stare in awe at the beautiful master bedroom as he removes his suit jacket. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything Grayson has told me. Married. My father’s debt. Everything feels surreal.

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