Page 45 of Bad Little Bride

A huffed laugh pushes past my lips and I shake my head.

He turns his glare on me, his mouth opening, but I cut him off.

“If you’re about to threaten me against harming her, I would advise you take me right back to my prison and add a second lock; otherwise, I will walk inside this building and make a mockery of this relationship as you are making one of me.”

His eyes narrow, some of the anger fading as he calls out to the driver who has just begun to brake in front of the red-carpet-covered steps for the second time. “Step out with Katana a moment. Keep her hidden.”

“Boss—”

“Now,” he barks, and the man moves quicker than I’d have thought possible, helping Katana from the car and locking us inside. Enzo wastes no time, getting right to it. “Did you not hear a word I said to you tonight?”

“Kind of hard not to when you spoke them directly to my face.”

“Then what possessed you to show hatred of me in front of her?”

I blink at him and then blink again, an incredulous laugh escaping. “Are you serious? You wantherto believe we’re, what?In love? Like she’s not fully aware of what this really is. You expected me to smile and hold your hand and lie about how fun the night was about to be with your ex-fucking-wife?!” The last few words leave me on a scream.

“That isexactlywhat I expect.”

“Oh, get real, Enzo. My god.” I drop against the seat, disgusted in myself for not hating the idea of coming to this thing. I should have known the universe would find a way to remind me of my place in this world.

I don’t fucking have one and I’m not meant for it. That is the only possible answer, and to deny that is to lie to my damn self.

I hate this.

I hate that I was so eager to stand beside him tonight.

After several seconds of silence, I finally look his way, which is exactly what he wanted.

His dark brow lifts instantly. “Are you done?”

Wow.

Okay.

A humorless laugh leaves me, and I shake my head, pinning him with a blank expression. “You want me to play your game? Fine. But humiliate me any more than you already are, and I will wipe the fucking board with you.” I reach for the handle, but pause, looking back at him. “And then I’ll nail her to it for fun. I’ve been agood girl,Enzo Fikile. Do not test me.”

“Do not get out of this car. You have no idea what you’re walking into.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I need to tell you—” he snaps, but I’m already climbing out, stretching out of his reach.

“Don’t worry,fiancé, my father made sure I was an ace in adaptability.” The rest of the excitement I never meant to let bloom is buried as the seconds grow closer to us making our entrance. “I’ll follow your lead like a pro.”

I turn, attention slicing to where the body builder of a driver blocks Katana from the press, strategically hired to make this little fundraiser seem as innocent as it sounds, and not like the money washing pit it really serves as. But the minute my shoe hits the concrete below, all heads swivel this way, cameras rise, and flashes blind the pathway to the door.

Unlike the woman from the magazine, these people are well aware of who I am, my sister guaranteed to have already arrived, Bastian on her arm.

So, it’s expected when Enzo steps up behind me, and the audible gasps from the masses ring in my ears like the bells of St. Paul’s Cathedral, but there are no saints here. Only sharp-dressed demons. My very own, a shadow across my back.

Enzo’s giant palms clasp around my hips and he steps closer, plastering his chest to me, gently shuffling us forward as one.

Questions are shouted and screamed with shocked excitement.

“The rumors are true!”

“Mr. Fikile, is she the one?”

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