Page 166 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
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Sin
"Surprised?" I thrust out my chest. I’ve done it. I’ve told her the one thing I had confessed to no one else.
Not the Seven, not M. Definitely not my parents in the time that they’d taken me home and tried to understand what had happened to my mind.
She stares at me, a furrow between her eyebrows. "I… don’t understand."
I widen my stance. "It’s a coping mechanism."
"So Max… isn’t… he’s not—"
"Real."
"Oh."
"After I was rescued from the kidnappers, I spent a month at the hospital recuperating. When I was released, my parents struggled to cope with my changed behavior. Not that I had been the easiest child before," which was putting it mildly; I grimace, "but I became more withdrawn. I was pissed off with the world, with them, with myself for being in a situation where I’d had no control."
"It wasn't your fault." Her tone is soft.
Wasn't it? I drag my fingers through my hair.
"My parents were busy trying to make ends meet, as it were. They didn't know how to deal with me. My mother tried, I suppose," A pulse throbs at my temple. "She tried to get me to see a therapist, but—"
"You refused."
"Yeah," I glower. "I can be a stubborn twat."
"I hadn't noticed." Her lips curve.
Say something more.Say what a freak I am. Off my nutter… Yeah, that would be a more accurate description. Why the fuck would she want to stay with me after everything I've told her?
I bare my teeth, "You think I’m crazy, huh?"
"No." She shakes her head. "Not more than usual."
Turn around. Fly away, little Bird. The cage door is open. The world awaits you. Sail forth. Conquer. Find new friends… A lover. Another husband. My thighs spasm. My shoulder muscles bunch.
If she glances at anyone else, takes someone else in my place… I’d kill the asshole…Fuck that, I won’t allow it. I can’t.
I’d brought her here, thinking I’d coerce her to stay; bribe her with more money, a job that fulfills her dreams, a hint of what she’s missing. I’d hoped she’d feel the loss of what could have been between us. I’d been sure that she’d take one look at me, and what? Throw herself at me, ask me to take her back? Fuck. I roll my shoulders.
That had been exactly my line of thinking. Then she’d walked in, and I’d known, it wouldn’t work. All of my arrogance had been stunted and forced to take a back seat. I had done the unthinkable.
I’d ripped open the one thing that would unravel my entire persona, my existence, the face I show the world.
I’d exposed myself to her. I was bare. Nothing to hide. Almost. "You should leave now," I growl.
"Okay."
She turns, heads to the door.
The fuck? She’s going? Sure, I'd told her to… But when had she ever obeyed me before? Without question.
This time. The one time I’d wanted her to disobey me, fight me, hold her own, she’d… flummoxed me again. She is perfect. She is mine. And I’ve lost her again. I squeeze my eyes shut. The blood thuds at my temples. My ribcage tightens. I draw in a breath. My lungs burn. Images from the past overwhelm my mind. Darkness envelops me.
Voices reach me in the damp musty space. Muffles, thuds, scrapes. I hear the moans of the boys in that enclosed room—six of them—I know them by their grunts, stifled by the rags in their mouths.
