Page 90 of Ruthless God

“Don’t worry about that class. You will pass.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t want to go, Revi. Take me home.”

“You’re going with me. Whether you like it or not.” He steps out of the car, then walks to my side, opening the door and holding out his palm.

He’s insane—just insane.

I place my hands under my butt. “You can’t make me get on a plane.”

“Do you want to test that theory?”

“Snow… please. Let me go home. Why are we going to Costa Rica?”

“We’re getting married.”

I stare at him like he has three heads. There is no way I’m going to say “I do” to him this soon. Not without my parents and friends present. It’s my mother’s dream to watch me walk down the aisle and I’d be stealing that from her.

Where does he come up with these crazy-ass ideas?

“Why, all of a sudden, do you want to elope so fast?”

I can’t wrap my head around it, he’s lost all of his marbles if he thinks he can kidnap me and take me to a foreign country to marry him. But all he does is kiss my lips.

“Because I want the world to know you’re officially mine. That I own every part of you, and you own me.”

“They already know I’m yours. They have a hate group dedicated to me just because I’m with you!”

I love Snow, but what’s up with him acting paranoid and wanting to get married out of the blue?

“It’s not enough. I don’t want to marry you because of the stupid-ass arrangement our families made. So, I will force you to be my wife because I want you to. You can go willingly, or you can go by force.”

“You don’t own me, Snow.”

“Yes, I do. I own every inch of you. Being owned by me means I get to be there for your emotions, and nurturing your every need in life. Like I always have.”

The truth is, I have always been in love with Snow and dreamed of being his wife, but not like this. I want my father to walk me down the aisle. So I pout, turning my head to the side.

“Suit yourself, Blue.”

He yanks me out of the car, and I scream for him to let me go while he carries me bridal style.

“Help! I’m being kidnapped!”

No one stops what they are doing, not even the flight attendant. She has on a blue outfit and a big-ass grin across her face.

“Watch your step, sir,” is all she says.

I feel as if I have to puke, and my face is all of a sudden hot.

“He’s kidnapping me to marry him,” I whine.

My eyes are pleading with her to help me, but she just shakes her head, following up the steps.

“You’re complaining about it?” she asks sarcastically. “I wish a man would marry me. A rich, powerful man, at that.”

Once we make it inside, he continues to carry me to a small room and throws me onto the bed.

“Get some rest, we have a long flight and I want you fully rested by the time we get to the beach.”

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