Page 28 of Ruthless Lord
“Mediocre sex at best, but that doesn’t mean we could spend our lives together.” Panic threatens to overwhelm me as I start to spiral and envision what it might be like as this guy’s wife. “We’ve got nothing in common. No goals, no values, nothing.”
“Except for fantastic sex.”
“Decent, maybe.” I glare at him, frustration filling me as he takes a shirt out and pulls it on. I almost wish he’d take that back off again. “Why would you want anything to do with me? You don’t know me at all. I could be terrible.”
“You could be,” he agrees as he packs the rest of his stuff. “But I’ve been missing something for a while now. These fights are my way of trying to find it again. I feel like myself when I’m in that ring, whatever that says about me. And I also felt it the night we spent together.” He stands with a groan, knees creaking. I don’t think I’ve heard him say this much all at once, except for when he was talking filthy to me in bed. He stares at me, expression dark and face beautiful. “I was ordered to make you my bride. I figured it might be worth trying out.”
“I don’t know what kind of midlife crisis you’re going through right now, but I don’t want anything to do with it.”
He stops and looks at me, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Midlife crisis?” he murmurs, lips pressed flat. “How old do you think I am?”
“Forties at least.”
“Well, shit.” He lets out a long sigh. “And feeling every fucking year of it. But that’s not what this is.”
“Sure as hell seems like it. This is your chance to bag the young rich girl, right? But I am not going to roll over and let you have me, Stefano. I’ve worked too hard to just give up and become some mafia guy’s wife.” I’m breathing hard, struggling against my anger. All of this is so damn unfair I could scream. Now here he is, acting like he actually wants this nonsense, but I’m not going to make it easy for him. No way in hell.
His expression darkens as he slings his bag over his shoulder. “Whether you like it or not, this is happening. You want that blackmail to go away? You’ll walk down the aisle, say the vows, wear my ring, and let me shove my fucking tongue in your mouth while all your pretty little friends clap and cheer.”
“Screw you, asshole.” I seethe, hands curled into fists. “God, you don’t know a thing about me, you total bastard.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Charlotte. It’s pretty clear you’re some spoiled rich girl who doesn’t know how to follow orders.” He takes a step closer and my heart skips a beat. “But when you’re my wife, you’ll learn.”
My eyes go wide with shock. He stares at me hard. That first night together, I never got the sense he was in any way dangerous to me. Violent and terrifying, sure, but not the kind of man who would hurt me. He made it clear I could go whenever I wanted.
This is different. Stefano’s glare seems to promise something dark and vicious. Like he doesn’t give a damn what I want anymore. There’s no more getting on his knees and begging for my taste.
No, there’s only obedience.
“If you won’t get me out of it, I’ll figure this out myself.” I shoulder past him, although it’s like slamming my arm into a brick wall. It hurts and I have to bite my lip to keep from yelping at the pain.
“Good luck, princess,” he calls after me. “I look forward to seeing you in all white.”
Chapter 8
Charlie
Iwait for my grandfather’s breakfast routine to finish. It’s a little embarrassing, but I know better than to storm into his room twice in one week. Instead, I lurk outside his door, glowering at the floor and brooding on my shit luck, while the staff pretends like I’m not there.
None of this makes sense. Stefano should’ve been excited to find a way out of our marriage.
Instead, it was like he got pissed at the suggestion. Like he really does want to marry me.
But that big bastard only wants to own me. I’m betting now that he knows who I am and how much money my family has, he’s all about becoming just another Westbrook stooge.
And his precious Don ordered him to lock me down, like some old-school mafioso shit.
Bastard. My father’s probably cackling in his office right now. His little blackmail plan is going perfectly, or at least he probably thinks so.
There’s no way my family will ever let me fully inherit the Westbrook business empire while married to a man like Stefano.
Which is obviously my father’s plan.
Only my grandfather is somehow twisting this situation to his own ends.
I don’t know what’s worse. My father trying to ruin me with revenge porn, or my grandfather using it to get what he wants instead.
“You can go in now,” Emily whispers, holding the door open sheepishly for me. I thank her and stride inside, holding my head high. Grandfather doesn’t respect softness or meekness, and I know better than to go into this conversation holding back. I need all my armor shining and in place, and all my weapons fully sharpened and prepared.
