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“Trust you?” I gasp. “You want me to trust you?”
“I haven’t lied to you about a thing. Why wouldn’t you?”
“How could I?” I retort.
“Your issue with me isn’t trust. You’re pissed because I’m forcing you into something you don’t want to do. There’s a difference.”
“No, there isn’t,” I grit out.
He holds my gaze, sighing before getting to his feet and moving to stand in front of me.
“I owe Matteo nothing and I’ve made up my mind.”
Tears sting my eyes. “Why are you doing this?” I ask again. “What are you getting out of it?”
He holds my gaze. “You.”
I scoff. “I’m hardly a prize.”
“In this world you are.” He brushes some hair from my face and my eyes fall shut. The moment I realize it’s happened, I snap them open. I can’t react to him this way. I may be desperate for comfort because this situation sucks, but the last person I want comforting me is him. This is his fault. “A beautiful wife is a privilege to anyone, but in my world, it means so much more. A beautiful wife means beautiful children and a beautiful family. The more children, the bigger the family. Family is everything in my world, Jordan. Don’t you get that?”
I shake my head. “No, Enzo. I don’t. If I did, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” I spit out.
He shrugs. That’s his response. Just to shrug? This can’t be it. This conversation isn’t over!
“Please, Enzo. I need to understand. I feel crazy. I feel like I don’t know anything about my life, about who I am. You’ve known me since I was a little girl. You and my father were friends. And even if you hate him now, somewhere deep down, you have to care for me, right? About what I want?”
“Right now, your safety is what I care about.”
What a shitty, half-assed response. I wipe my eyes, staring at the wall for a moment to collect myself.
“This will not be a real marriage, Enzo. It’s fake. All of it’s fake. Just a bunch of legal bullshit. So what’s the point?”
“That’s all marriage is, anyway. Just a bunch of legal bullshit.”
I don’t miss the way he parrots my words instead of chastising me for swearing, like he has every other time.
“So what, then? We’ll just be married and do what? Live separate lives?”
“It’s all up to you.”
“So you can do whatever you want while I’m stuck here? You get to go out and have fun. Leave for days while I’m locked in this house? Get to fuck whoever you want? You get to cheat on me with Rafael whenever you want?”
I don’t know where that comes from and why the thought of him doing it bothers me, but it does. Maybe because I don’t have the freedom to do anything, and he can do whatever he wants.
He’s quiet for a moment, and nothing in his features gives away how he feels. “You just said it was fake. Why would it matter?”
I huff out a laugh, not bothering to hide the tears this time.
“You may have my hand in marriage, Enzo, but you’ll never have my heart—or my body. Ever again,” I growl.
He smirks. Fucking smirks!
“We’ll see about that, angel.”
Unbelievable. This man is unbelievable! Nothing I say matters to him. He has an answer for everything.
“So I’m just supposed to be miserable for the rest of my life?”
