Page 18 of Bound to a Monster

“Luca!” I hiss at him, turning pink, but all the men find that hilarious.

Daniel squeezes my shoulder on the way out. I think that’s meant to be reassuring, but it only feels possessive, like I’m the object here getting passed on to my new owner. Dad laughs loudly at some joke Oleg makes, and my brothers follow them into the entry hall.

Lev walks casually to the door and closes it very quietly behind them.

Then we’re alone together.

My heart’s racing in my chest. I stand on the opposite side of the room from him and consciously put the coffee table and the couches between us.

“I thought your name was Step,” I say sharply, and I don’t even know why that’s the first thing out of my mouth. There are a dozen better ways to approach this, like maybe acknowledging how fucking crazy this is.

Instead, I’m pissed.

His smile fades and disappears. What’s left is cold, a black void of emotion. He looks at me like a predator.

“It seems we were both lying that night,” he says, and though he doesn’t walk closer, the way his body shifts makes me feel like he’s tensing for something.

“I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know who you were that night.”

“Are you sure about that? Adriano didn’t put you up to it?”

I glare at him, fighting back outrage. “Absolutely not. You think my cousin can order me to freaking sleep with a stranger on top of marrying him?”

He lets out a soft sound of acknowledgment. I’m frightened, terrified actually, but also strangely thrilled. I never thought I’d get anywhere near this man again in my life, and now it turns out I’m marrying him. I’m disturbed by this turn of events, but that night flashes back.

The pleasure. Howgoodit was. His hands all over my body like he was worshipping every inch of my exposed flesh.

Like he couldn’t get enough.

It was intoxicating. And while I don’t see that same man standing in front of me—while he seems colder, more distant, even angry—maybe we can have a taste of that night one day.

“I don’t know what you’re capable of,” he says softly, and the accusation is clear. “Listen to me. That night never happened. We never met before. Do you understand?”

“You think Iwantpeople to know?”

“I have no idea what you want, little fencer.”

I flinch at the nickname. “Don’t call me that.”

He takes a breath and blows it out, obviously fighting to get himself under control. But what’s he struggling with? I’m tempted to walk toward him, to close the distance between us. It doesn’t have to be all pain and anger. It doesn’t need to be a lifetime of hate and acrimony. If we can hold on to that night and let ourselves bethosepeople one more time?—

“From now on, we’re colleagues,” he says, tone completely flat.

And I go very still. “What’s that mean?”

“You and I mean nothing. I have no interest in a wife, and I’m doing this out of obligation to my family. I assume it’s the same for you.”

“No, I actually reallywantedto marry a total stranger. I volunteered for it.”

He doesn’t find my sarcasm amusing. “Then we cut a deal right now. That night never happened. You’ll be my wife in name only. We’ll live our separate lives and do the bare minimum to appease our families. Beyond that, I have no interest in you, andI don’t expect you to ask anything of me. Am I making myself clear?”

Slowly, the tiny speck of hope that was growing in my guts withers away and turns to bile in the back of my throat.

“I hear you.Lev.” I put emphasis on the name, mostly because I’m trying to hurt him now, because I feel like he’s hurting me.

It doesn’t need to be this way.

Except my future husband is a fucking asshole, and that’s how it’s going to be.

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