Page 13 of Blackmailed to the Altar

“What do you think they’ll do to me in there?” she whispered.

My chest hurt at the thought of her leaving. “You will not go to jail,” I growled.

“B-but you s-said…”

“No, you assumed. I would do something far worse than sending you to jail if I wanted to.”

She shivered. “What do you want from me?”

“An heir,” I say simply. I want so much more. However, I would not reveal all my plans, nor would I allow her to hold any of my secrets. Not yet. Maybe never.

“N-no.” She tried to get away from me.

“Take that word out of your vocabulary,” I spat. No one told me no.

“Yes, sir,” she conceded.

I couldn’t help the heat that shot down my spine from her submission. Breaking Mya was going to be a genuine pleasure. I hoped she wouldn’t bore me. I would hate to have to kill her in order to tie up loose ends.

Mya turned on her Dr. Mya Rivers hat, and went to have a session with Eden. Of course, I made sure every room had heavy surveillance. I could never be too careful. I had a lot of enemies.

“How are the nightmares?”

I turned up the volume at Mya’s soft voice.

“They aren’t getting any better,” Eden stated softly.

“Have you tried some methods? Box breathing? Keeping the television on? A white noise machine?”

She shook her head no. “Unfortunately, I have never had a sleeping problem before, so I never did something like that.”

“Oh, well, what can you tell me about today?” As Eden went on and on about her day, I tuned her out and stared at my little firecracker.

She looked like a hot librarian, with her glasses on her nose, as she peered down at her notes. She kept her tone even as she spoke with her patient. I wanted to walk into that room, and fuck her hard against the wall, but that would be a breach in privacy, not that I gave a fuck.

I stayed in Eden’s session until Mya was packing up. I closed up on her expression, seeing that it was drawn and tired. She was good at hiding it; most people wouldn’t notice the strain around her eyes, or the slight tremor in her hands, but I wasn’t most people. I knew how to read her, every micro-expression, every sign of weakness she tried to suppress.

Eden’s therapy sessions always seemed to take a toll on Mya, and I was counting on that. She was exhausted and vulnerable, so it was the perfect moment for what I had planned. Then I went to the bedroom and waited for my fiancée. As soon as she walked through the door, I pounced, hoping to cause the worst blow.

“Rough session?” I asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, with my gloved hands folded across my chest as she approached. I softened my voice, feigning concern, though every word was calculated.

Mya nodded, her guard just a little lower than usual. “She’s making progress, but it’s slow. Eden’s dealing with so much trauma, and it’s hard for her to open up. I wonder if she would do better in America.”

I’d been nodding along sympathetically, as if I truly cared about my sister-in-law’s recovery, until that last part. I was using Eden’s progress as a tool, another way to keep my fiery doctor close, a form of my control. But she pushed me when she spoke of leaving, and that was exactly what she was hinting at.

“Hop in the shower and get dressed,” I snapped, and pointed to the bathroom, irritated with her.

“What? Where are we going?” She blinked owlishly.

“Not really your business, Mouse, but I’ll tell you on the way.”

She shook her head no, trying to back away from me. I took a step closer, blocking her path just enough that she had to acknowledge me, and had to meet my gaze. “I’m not asking. I’minsisting.” I reached out, brushing a thick curl behind her ear, lingering just enough to unsettle her.

She ran into the bathroom like her ass was on fire. I waited while she got herself ready, catching up on work emails, and making sure no one was sending a search party to look for Dr. Rivers while she was on her vacation.

My little mouse stepped out in a deep green bodycon dress, and white stiletto heels. I handed her a white purse that was sitting on the dresser and drank her in. She fidgeted like she was uncomfortable in what she was wearing.

“You look magnificent,” I murmured, walking toward her and grabbing her hand. I cursed the gloves keeping our skin apart, but I also didn’t want to mar her flesh with my own. Her perfection couldn’t be touched by my darkness. I held eye contact as I flipped it over and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the pulse of her wrist. Her breath caught, and her green eyes darkened with fear and arousal.

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