Page 24 of A Vow Of Hate


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I snatched my hand away, my other palm slapping against his chest. An act of short rebellion, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. Killian knew too many of my weaknesses. “Yes,” I said.

“I want to see you try.”

Goddamn it. He was a bastard. A heartless bastard. “The man I knew would never force himself on a woman.”

“You don’t know me. You know nothing, Beasty.”

“I know enough,” I snapped. “The man my sister so passionately spoke of was respectful. A decent man who would always do the right thing. That was the man she fell in love with... yet the one standing in front of me is nothing but a monster. A beast. You’re without remorse, Killian Spencer.”

There was a flash of pain in his eyes before he quickly blinked it away. A shadow covered his face and his jaw twitched. “You’re right. I’m not the Killian your sister fell in love with. You killed him that night; the same night you killed your sister. Bravo, Julianna. You single-handedly ruined two lives in one night.

“Three,” I breathed, the crack in my chest growing larger.

That made him pause. “What?”

I swallowed, my eyes burning. This fight had taken all my energy and now… Killian had left me feeling vulnerable. “Three lives. I ruined myself that night,” I said, my voice breaking. “You seem to forget that every time. You. Are. Not. The. Only. One. Who. Is. Suffering. I miss her too. I loved her too. And yes, I hate myself too. More than you can ever hate me. So no, your anger and your hatred does nothing to me.”

“If you want pity–”

“I’m not asking for pity!”

My voice echoed through the walls and his eyes widened. “Watch your tone with me, Julianna.”

“Or what?” I challenged, blinking the tears away.

“You will regret it,” he warned.

I gave him a bitter smile. “You still don’t understand, do you? What else can you do to hurt me when I’m hurting myself every day, every time I breathe.”

“I can do much worse.”

The pressure on my chest intensified. I let out a sigh, rubbing my temple. “We’re going in circles, Killian.”

He stuck a hand into the pocket of his slacks, his eyes piercing mine. “I came here to finish what we started.”

I nodded. “The heir our families desperately need.”

His lips pulled up, but there was no warmth in his smile. “How about we make this easy for ourselves? Just bend the fuck over and submit to me, Beasty. I’m sure you know what it’s like to be on your back and on your knees. You can’t be a virgin,” he paused. “Once the job is done, you’ll be paid bountifully every year. A payment for your services, as per the contract.”

My fists clenched into the fabric of my dress. “I’m not a common whore, Killian.”

He scoffed. “My apologies. I thought that was your job description. Truly.”

“That’s petty, even for you.”

He chuckled, his wide chest shaking.

“I’m not a vessel,” I said, my chin nudged high, and I channelled every ounce of pride I had inside my bones. I was my father’s daughter, after all. The Romanos didn’t let anyone step on them. True, I was paying for my sins. But I wasn’t weak and my husband had to see that.

“I’m not a vessel,” I repeated. “And my womb is not up for discussion, Killian. But I have a few conditions of my own before I give you my consent.”

His gaze fixated on me. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“No, it’s a simple compromise.”

“A compromise, you say,” he said slowly. “I don’t and won’t compromise with you.”

I watched as he spun around, walking away – leaving us mid-conversation. That was his way of saying that I had been dismissed.

But I wasn’t done.

Either Killian accepted my conditions or he’d never get the heir he needed. This time, the ball was in my court. I had all the power in my hands – or should I say my womb.

I took a step forward and called out to his retreating back. “It’s either that or your father doesn’t get the grandchild he desperately wants to see before–”

He came to a sudden halt, his head snapped toward me and his eyes turned to slits. “You’re a fucking bitch.”

Yes, I knew it was a low blow, bringing up his dying father. But it was the only way to get him to listen to me.

“We’ve already established that you hate me and I’m a bitch. Let’s move on, Killian.”

“What do you want?” he snapped, enraged.

“Dinner, every night for thirty nights,” I spilled out quickly before I lost the courage. “And I expect us to converse without throwing insults. Simple as that. After those thirty nights, we can then discuss consummating our marriage.”

I had to practically choke out the last sentence. Killian’s brows pulled up in confusion. His jaw tightened. His lips parted, as if to speak, but I was already talking over him.

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