Page 88 of Prized Possession

I don’t know why, but I allow her to drag me until we’re both sitting on the couch. She’s so close, I can feel the warmth from her thigh against mine. I have to block out her fucking fantastic smell, and the way she feels against me, as it almost hurts to think about.

“Fine. What do you want to say?”

She rolls her eyes at my tone. “You’re right, I have experienced trauma. I’venever talked about it before, and for a long time, I tried to pretend it never happened, but it did, and I’ve never been the same since.

“Even admitting that to you is hard, but not because I don’t trust you—I trust you more than anyone else. It’s just…talking about it makes it real, and brings it all back.

“I’ve spent so long trying to forget, and I’m worried that telling you about it will put me back in a very dark place that I spent a long time clawing my way out of.”

Well, fuck, now I feel like a right jackass.

I focus on my breathing, trying to control the anger enough that she only sees the concern I have for her, as I don’t want to scare her away.

I tuck the rage away into the back of my mind, saving it for when I need to unleash it on the person most deserving of it.

“I understand that, I do, but when you were in that dark place before, you were all alone. Now you have me to help you,” I say, meaning every single word.

She lets out a shuddered breath, and I can see the tears welling in the corner of her eyes, threatening to break free. This time when she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper, and I have to strain to hear her.

“I’m worried you’ll look at me differently when you know.”

I shake my head vehemently. “No fucking way. There’s nothing you could tell me that will ever change the way I look at you.”

Her eyes widen as she fixes her gaze on mine. “You promise?”

“I promise,” I reply, taking hold of her shaking hand.

She closes her eyes and pulls in a breath, and I let her have as much time as she needs. The silence sits between us, and I rub my thumb along the back of her hand in slow, reassuring strokes, letting her know that I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.

“It was about eighteen months ago. My mother set me up on a date with the son of one of her society friends. His father is aligned with Dad, and he agreed that our date would be a good match.

“I’d never met him before, though I remember Jacob saying that he didn’t really like him, so he must know him in some way,” she starts, finally opening her eyes to look at me.

I give her a small, reassuring smile, encouraging her to continue, and she does.

“Although there was nothing formal in place yet, Mother made it quite clear that the outcome of the date would be a marriage contract if she got her way—which she always fucking does,” she snaps, looking murderous.

“I’d been avoiding any dates that could possibly lead to a marriage offer, asit’s the last thing I wanted, but Mother knew what I was doing. She made it clear I couldn’t put it off forever.

“Marrying someone of their choosing, strengthening the Santoro name was quite literally my only job, and the clock was ticking.”

How I manage to keep the hand holding hers from shaking with rage is a fucking miracle. I have to curl my free hand into a fist just to try and claw back some semblance of control. We’re not even at the worst bit of the story, and already I’m angry.

To know her parents were pushing her to marry is one thing, but to make her feel like that’s the only reason she’s here on Earth is something else.

It’s also starting to look like the guy who hurt her was someone her parents set her up with, and if that’s the case, the peace treaty is going to be on really shaky grounds, as I’m going to want to murder them all.

I focus on slowing my heart rate down as I keep my breathing steady, making sure my face doesn’t display any of what I’m feeling. I keep my eyes locked on Chloe as she continues her story.

“I met him at the restaurant, and the date went fine. He wasn’t bad looking, and we got on well enough, but there weren’t any sparks either.

“Although he didn’t do anything that repulsed me, or anything too bad, there were a few things during the date that raised a red flag for me. I can’t remember specifics, but one of them was the way he treated the staff at the restaurant.

“The hostess was a younger girl, and he openly stared at her tits the whole time he spoke to her. Then the waiter who brought us our wine, he spoke to him like he was shit on the bottom of his shoe, looking down his nose at him the whole time.

“And finally, the waitress who served us for the evening, she was a little older, and he kept checking her out as well, making a few inappropriate comments.

“Nothing was really bad, but it was enough to register as red flags for me. That combined with us having very little in common meant that the conversation felt forced. He rarely asked about me, dominating the conversation the whole time with talk of himself, and his inflated ego.

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