Page 25 of Tangled In Lies

She stops several feet away and puts her hands on her hips. “Do you really want to be stuck in an arranged marriage for the rest of your life? I know you hate how your parents treat their marriage like a business transaction.”

“You want me to call off the engagement?”

She throws her hands up. “Oh my God, yes. Of course I do.”

“Beg me.”

Her eyebrows pinch together. “What?”

“I said, beg me.” I pronounce each word slowly. “Get onyour knees right now and beg me to call off the engagement.”

She snorts. “Don’t be an ass. That’s ridiculous.”

I push out of the chair and stalk toward her with unhurried steps. At some point, she takes a step back for each one I advance.

Am I getting too close, my little traitor?

“I said, get on your knees.”

She lifts her chin. “No.”

An image of her on her knees doing other things fills my head, and I grind my teeth. This old attraction to her only fuels the anger inside me. It bubbles hotter and hotter until my vision turns red. “It’s the least you could do after what you did. You shouldwantto get on your knees and beg me for forgiveness.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Damn it. So much for keeping my secret for a while longer.

Don’t let her get under your skin.

Easier said than done.

Her gaze darts around, glancing everywhere but at me. “What?”

“Come on. Stupid doesn’t suit you.” I stop a few feet in front of her when she bumps into the wall. I bend down, trying to catch her gaze, but she’s staring at her feet. “I know what you did.”

She swallows loudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The blood in my veins boils, and I close the distance between us, grab her chin, and tilt it up. Forcing her to look at me.

My body hums in triumph when her gaze is back on me.

All the fight has left her eyes, the flash of fear not leaving room for anything else.

For over three years, the question of why she stabbed me in the back has been plaguing my every thought. Day in and day out. Distracting me during the day. Keeping me up at night. I want to know how she could betray me like this. Ideserveto know. She’s going to tell me why, and then she’s going to beg me for forgiveness.

Yet, she remains quiet, simply staring at me, and part of my control slips.

I slam my other hand on the wall next to her and half-growl. “Tell me why you did it.”

Our fronts touch, and that dark hole inside me takes sick pleasure in feeling her rapid chest movements against mine.

Still, nothing. I want to shake the words out of her. I want to turn her inside out and let every last depraved thought of hers leak out.

I needsomethingfrom her.

Something that will make me feel less out of control.

I need to know why she did it.

Make her.

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