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Something inside her finally snaps, sending a thrill through me. She stalks up to me and leans in close, having no idea the danger she’s put herself in. How easily I could pull her onto my lap and make her pliable to my touch. Her delicate fingers pull the cigar from my mouth, and she puts it out in the ashtray. “You asked me to do this. Why are you being so difficult?”
“Because you haven’t named anyone I want. I told you, I need someone who can stand beside me in this family, who will lead with grace and confidence. There’s only one woman who can do that, and she’s not on your ridiculous list.”
She stands tall, hands on her hips, like an adorable, pissed-off pixie, and lets out a sharp breath. “If you already have someone, why didn’t you just say that?” Her voice drops lower, almost strained, and my heart twitches in my chest. “Who is she so I can book some public dates for you.”
“You,” I say and marvel at the way her eyes go wide.
“W-What?” She shakes her head. “We don’t have time for these games. Just tell me who she is so I can do my job.”
I lean forward, practically looming over her, even in my seated position. “There’s no joke, Miss Hart. It will be you.”
“And if I say no?” she scoffs, some of her spirit shining through.
“You won’t.”
“So confident. Well, I’m saying no. I wouldn’t marry you in a million freaking years. Remember, I think you’re a heartless asshole, or do you go through so many girls you’ve already forgotten?”
I ignore her words, knowing I’ve already won. That there is no other option for her before this conversation even started. “There are rules that come along with this. I need to be married for at least a year, we will live together, and you will sleep in my bed.”
Her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’ll sign your visa papers.”
The breath wooshes out of her, and she stumbles back, the reality of the situation hitting her. I smirk, knowing it’s an offer she can’t afford to turn down.
“I…I…have to go.” She turns abruptly and scurries from my office. I let her go, knowing she’ll come back to me. Knowing that I’ll get exactly what I want.
I light another cigar. Misty Hart will be my wife. Whether she wants to or not.
Chapter 15
Misty
Nicholas is smart enough to not speak to me during the short ride to my apartment. I hop out of the car the second we roll to a stop, not bothering to let him open my door. There’s a man dressed in all black standing in the doorway. I freeze until I see the security badge on his vest. Since when did my crappy apartment have a doorman? My mind is swirling too fast for me to process the fact that he calls me by my name as he opens the door for me. All I can think about is Damon’s audacity to ask me to marry him. No…to blackmailing me. How dare he take the one thing I need the most and hold it over my head. And why? Why me? What could I possibly give him that the countless more suitable women on his mother’s list can’t? My back tingles the entire way to my place, a heavy sense of being watched branding the back of my neck, but when I turn, there’s no one there.
Get it together.
I stomp directly to the kitchen, heels clicking loudly on the vinyl floor. I need a drink, and I need it now. I don’t bother with a glass, instead taking a swig of tequila straight from the bottle. I cough at the burn in my throat, but it doesn’t stop me from taking another.
He thinks he can do whatever he wants. Well, screw him, screw his proposal, screw his blackmail. Images of him pushing me against the glass at his club, hand buried between my legs, flash through my mind, and I have to rub my thighs together. I ignore it. This isn’t about attraction. It’s about control, and I’m going to take it back.
I pull out my phone and search through my contacts and text Carter before I can talk myself out of it.
Me: Come over tonight?
Carter: Fuck yes. What time?
Me: Now.
I need to do this before my courage runs out. I just have to prove to myself that I choose what comes next. I punch in my address.
Carter: I’ll be there in fifteen. Can’t wait to see you.
I throw my phone down on the counter and brace my elbows on the cool surface, supporting my head in my palms. I ignore the voice screaming at me in the back of my head that this isn’t what I want at all. That a twisted, broken part of me is thrilled at the idea of marrying Damon. That’s why I have to do this. I need to stamp it out so I never give in. Not to someone who will ruin me. Because that’s exactly what he plans. He doesn’t want a wife. He wants a doll to stand perfectly on his arm. I learned that I don’t belong in his world years ago, and it’s not a mistake I’ll repeat again. No matter the fact that my breath catches with a single look or my panties grow wet the longer he watches me.
I’ve learned to survive. And something tells me I won’t survive Damon.
Chapter 16
