Page 32 of Venomous Vows

“Justify it all you want,” I ground out. “You didn’t need to be so mean to me.”

“And all these years later, you still hover it over my head.”

I shove at his hand and Adrian releases me. “Because you’re an asshole. And Idon’twant to marry you.”

Adrian’s jaw ticks once before a blankness washes over his features. It’s a guard. A tool he uses to school his emotions. And I dare not think that I may have hurt his feelings. “Then I’ll do you a favor and give you one last out. Your call, Elena.”

I swallow down the thickness in my throat because I know that if I don’t, he’s going to rip away his rescue mission of saving my sister.

“What’ll it be?” he presses impatiently and it doesn’t matter what I want or feel. Marcella needs to come home.

And I’d serve a million life sentences just to make sure she’s alive and safe.

“I’ll be your wife, Adrian,” I say slowly and surely. “But you’re never going to own me.”

9

ADRIAN

She pissesme off and I don’t believe Elena comprehends how much.

That woman was born to make my life a living hell, sent to throw curveballs and unwanted thoughts and needs in the mix.

It’s a test.

I know it is.

However, I can’t help but fall for the shit every single time she looks up at me with those lucid blue eyes that literally suck the life out of me. Elena is nothing but tempting, annoying, and fucking fuckable.

The latter is what was on my mind last night. I wanted nothing more than to see how far and much I could bend Elena to my will. I had no problem explaining myself and why I did the things I did.

I don’t regret them either.

Though it’s hard to keep that thought in mind when she’s made it very clear that I’m the last man on Earth she wants to marry.

The absolute last.

Yet, I am a man of my word. And I will lock Elena down with me still, regardless of how pissed off she gets about it. I might be able to make her do anything once I have Marcella in my grasp.

Which will be in approximately two minutes when the young fucker standing in front of me stops gaping at me like a damn idiot.

“You’re Adrian Bernardi.”

I inwardly sigh because I have better things to do than be here, but arrangements and all that shit. “Yes.”

“Oh, man.” He looks over at the guy next to him. Some unshaven asshole who has about an extra seventy pounds on him and looks like he hasn’t showered in about a month. “Dude, this is the King of Bellbrooke. My dad used to talk about him.”

Dudedoesn’t look impressed, giving me a once-over like he can’t be bothered with my presence as much as I can his.

“Is that so?” he states detachedly and I know a dumbass when I see one.

He’s thinking about what he has to do to take me down. I’m more powerful than him, been around longer, andIrun the fucking streets around here. No matter what sort of bullshit The Disciples have running.

“Where’s the girl?” I press evenly, ready to send my message and get home.

The kid, who was highly impressed with me seconds ago, turns solemn. “Where’s the money?”

“You’re not going to see it until I see that she’s alive.”

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