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“You’re lying now!” I punched him across the face, my hand instantly ached. While he touched his own jaw and rubbed it with his thumb. “Why did you do it!”
“Because it felt fucking good to have the power for once in my life,” he rasped. “And he was weak, already beaten, bloody, broken, I finished what someone else couldn’t. He was weak, and a long time ago he trained me to be strong even if it meant turning my back on blood, yes your precious brother-in-law taught me to fight dirty and I was given the perfect opportunity to take what was owed to me in my Family’s blood. I took back our honor, I took back our lives, and I’m taking back the Family—to its rightful spot under a true De Lange willing to sacrifice everything.” He leaned down and gripped me by the chin like he always did when he wanted to get close to me and didn’t want me biting him or running away. “Now either get it all out now or kneel.”
“Kneel?” I snapped. “Why the hell would I kneel?”
He grinned. “I just like seeing you on your knees, it’s quite poetic for me.”
“You hate poetry and you’re a psychopath.”
He was quiet, his eyes smiled in a way his mouth didn’t. “Thank you.”
I kicked him in the ribs then threw another punch across his face, or tried to, he caught my right fist and spun me around, then shoved me against the wall, pinning my arms against myself. “Didn’t Daddy teach you better?”
“Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “He did.” Without thinking, I threw my head back and felt a crack—his, not mine.
He released me instantly, holding his nose. I grabbed the nearest chair and slammed it over his body, sending him into the ground, then stood over him. “I see what you mean, you prefer me on my knees, I prefer you on your back looking up at me knowing that I’ll make every day of your life a living hell, for better or for worse, yeah?”
He laughed as blood spewed down his chin. “For better or for worse, and now you feel better, right?”
I refused to admit it.
Instead, I just ignored him and started walking toward the door.
When I got there, he was already behind me; he reached around and grabbed my left hand. “I almost forgot your parting gift…” He slid a blood-red ruby ring onto my left ring finger. It was absolutely hideous, large, gaudy, nothing like I had dreamed of.
Nothing.
It was like the crown, heavy for those who bore it.
I trained to protect myself and my Family.
And now, the only way to do that was to marry the one who had taken everything away from me.
“Beautiful,” Ivan whispered in my ear. “I’ll see you at the altar in twenty-four hours. Oh, and do make sure you make the rounds this evening, everyone loves a blushing bride.”
“I’ll never have sex with you,” I yelled like a complete idiot.
He laughed, actually laughed out loud. “You think I would ever touch you or be attracted to you? I mean really… think of yourself as a nice little trophy wife, I would never debase you. Besides, I promised your dad I wouldn’t touch you and though you might hate me, I do keep my promises. He’s the type to kill if you don’t.”
“Then I guess Plan B is to tempt you so much you can’t control yourself, then Dad can do the dirty work.”
“You could try, but what would ever possibly make you think that I could be attracted to someone like you?” He left, slamming the door behind him.
“He’s wrong,” I whispered to myself. “He’s wrong.”
But the hot tears still slid down my cheeks.
In what universe would I ever want to tempt the killer to find me attractive?
What a desperate, lonely thought.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Life’s brightest moments are almost always followed by darkness, but I always believe the darkness manifests so when the light comes again—we let it shine on our face and appreciate it more.” —King Campisi
Ivan
It was protocol.
