Page 48 of His Forced Bride
His voice is calm, matter-of-fact.
"But where would you go? Your company needs my backing to survive. Kozlov is still looking for Dominic's replacement in the arms deal. Your mother?—"
He stops himself, shaking his head.
"There are threats everywhere. Here, at least, you're protected."
"Protected." I laugh, and the sound comes out sharp and bitter.
"By the man who forced me to marry him at gunpoint."
"By the man who will kill anyone who tries to hurt you."
The words should terrify me.
Instead, they send a confusing rush of heat through my veins.
I push the feeling away, focusing on the rage that's easier to understand.
"Get out," I tell him.
"This is my house."
"And this is my room, apparently. So get out of it."
He doesn't move.
"We need to discuss?—"
"No."
The word explodes from me, carrying all the fury and grief and terror I've been holding back.
"We don't need to discuss anything. You've taken everything from me—my freedom, my choice, my name. You've made me into your property, your trophy wife, your convenient solution to a business problem. But I will never accept it."
I grab the champagne flute and hurl it at the wall.
Crystal explodes against the plaster, sending shards across the floor.
The sound is satisfying, cathartic.
I reach for the second glass, one he sipped from and set down next to mine.
"Inessa, stop," he growls.
I throw it anyway, watching it shatter near the first.
Then I move to the bar cart, sweeping bottles and glasses to the floor in a cascade of breaking glass and spilled liquor.
"Stop."
Yuri crosses the room in three strides, catching my wrists before I can grab the decanter.
"You'll hurt yourself."
I struggle against his grip, trying to break free. "Let go of me."
"Not until you calm down."
