Page 43 of Bad Little Bride

It takes a conscious effort not to clench my muscles and I try not to wonder what he’s thinking.

Too round. Too soft to be arealdancer.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard that over the years, but the way Enzo swipes a finger over his lower lip when no one’s watching tells me he doesn’t hate it. That or he can’t decide. Who knows.

“It’s the opposite if you only focus on how the others are open around the shoulder and this one isn’t.” He comes around to stand in front of me, blocking the old man waiting to open the door from my view. “But they do the same job.”

I consider his words, realizing he’s not entirely wrong. The dress, a soft pink in color, is full coverage with long sleeves and a neckline that reaches halfway up my throat, the material soft and stretchy, forming to my body like a second skin. Somehow, it reveals even more than the shoulderless options. It literally fits like the tightest of gloves. So no, there’s not much left to the imagination in this thing, especially with the slit at the bottom running all the way up, stopping but an inch from where my thigh meets my panty line.

A sudden self-consciousness falls over me and I flex my muscles, breaking his stare. “And what job is that, just so we’re clear?”

Enzo tips his head, recapturing my gaze, his jaw set in determination. When he speaks, it’s with arrogance, but there’s a hint of something else in there too, I just can’t place it.

“I want every man whose eyes fall on you to wish it were them you were going home with at the end of the night. I want every woman who witnesses the look in their man’s eyes to burn with jealousy.” His chin lowers, as does his tone. “I want every person with a heartbeat to see you at my side and know, without a doubt, that you are mine and mine alone. That you chose me and I you, and nothing and no one could ever rival what we have. I want them to see murder in my eyes when they look at me and the possessiveness in yours, because like it or not, you are possessive over me, so show them. Let them see.”

Silence stretches between us, and I swallow, his words wielding their way far deeper than they should and leaving a pathetic thought in their wake, because there is no way a reality exists where Enzo actually respects the ring he slid onto my finger. Right?

“That’s—”Ridiculous. The complete opposite of how people are going to react to seeing the man who threatened the Revenaw empire with a Revenaw on his arm.“Oddly specific, and quite presumptuous of you.”

Enzo stands perfectly still for a moment before a slow smirk curves his lips. “Tonight will be the first night the rumors are confirmed. There will be no you or I, only us.” His attention shifts to my hair, and he reaches out, pulling the long Hollywood waves forward. “Tonight.” He takes in the deep part to the right, focusing on the left side that’s slicked down and tucked behind my ear, held in place with three diamond-tipped pins he runs the pad of his thumb over. “The burning curiosity will be fed, and trust me when I say, they’re famished, Little Bride.”

His wrist, so close to my lips, forces his scent down my throat, and I can’t deny the way the spicy sweetness warms my skin. I swear the man isn’t wearing cologne. There is no lab on this planet that could produce the masculinity encompassing him. It’s simply…him.

I can’t believe we’re about to do this.

I shouldn’t be so excited, but I can’t deny I am.

Months in the making, I’m finally at Enzo’s side.

This is what I’ve been waiting for, our first official outing in front of the masses, and we look damn good together, if I do say so myself.

We’re about to blow people’s minds and call me crazy, but I think he might be as eager for this as I am.

Enzo’s gaze snaps to the left then, and my eyes lock onto my mark on his skin. The ink is healing beautifully, though it looks like he could use a little balm to soften it out.

I almost tell him so, but then his attention moves over my shoulder, and he smiles.

It’s a smile I haven’t seen, and curiosity wins out. I glance back, every nerve in my body jolting at once as shock snaps through me.

Katana stands there with a tiara on her head, absolutely glowing in a glittery, golden gown.

Chapter

Eleven

Boston

One of thefirst things I learned in my training for survival in this world was masking my emotions. Welcome the feeling, mold it into something else and package it up, but don’t forget to throw away the fucking key.

The key must have been thrust into my spine, and with each roll of the tires, the seat digs the jagged metal farther into my flesh until it’s grinding against bone. That’s how bad my back is aching right now, my muscles seemingly frozen fucking stiff.

Anger, frustration, and raw humiliation burn through me at a dangerous rate. It boils low in my stomach and high in my throat, rendering me speechless. A fact that’s confirmed when my secret husband’s ex-wife naively decides it’s safe to speak to me.

“I’m nervous.” She smiles, looking out the window as we wait in the red carpet line, her hands clenched tight in her lap proving her words right.

She wouldn’t last a day in the private rooms at The Enterprise. They would chew her up and spit her out so fast shewouldn’t know what hit her until she felt the blood trickle down her temple.

Her mystic green eyes are wide and happy as she swings them to me, and I have the sudden urge to take the pins from my hair and drive them through her pupils, dirty them up a bit and hide the fact that her bright eyes make mine look like the knockoff version of hers. They’re duller in every sense of the word.

---