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“Sign our marriage contract.” He held a red ball point pen out to me, knowing I would take it.
“You won’t hurt her?”
“I may not be good for much, but my word is golden. Your sister will be treated like a princess. Think of Rapunzel.” Fucking bastard. My emotions raged inside of me.
“Why me?”
“You’re the only one that can do this, and I promised Michelle I’d look out for her sister. It’s just a year. Abigail or your signature. I don’t have all day for you to decide, Rebel.”
This wasn’t a choice. It was coercion and blackmail at its finest. He wasn’t giving me an option at all. I had no idea what I was about to get myself into, and I knew there was a massive amount of shit he wasn’t telling me.
“Was this you breaking me?”
“No, Rebel. This is me starting to break you.”
“Is it going to hurt worse than this?” I mumbled, more to myself than him.
“More than likely,” he replied callously, holding the pen out to me.
Snatching the pen from his hand, I clicked it open and signed my name.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
He was seriously insane.
I stared at the schedule in front of me with furrowed brows. Every aspect of my life, every daily detail, was on the paper he’d placed before me.
“I’ve signed your ridiculous agreement. Why do I need a schedule?”
“Because I’m giving you one. You’re alone most of the time and you need a way to keep busy.”
Arrogant asshole.
Pierce had been colder than snow ever since I’d signed off on our marriage pact three weeks ago. The agreement was utter bullshit, and now he was trying to control how I spent every waking moment?
No.
Not happening.
The man had even penciled in watering his plants, which I was ninety percent sure were fake. I struggled to remain calm and keep my face blank.
“You know that document I signed isn’t legally binding, right?” I flicked the paper across the table in his general direction.
“It’s binding when it comes to you and me. I’m sure I don’t need to explain why.”
He gave me a pointed stare and slid the schedule back to me. I begrudgingly picked it up again. “Well, you forgot to mention what times I’m allowed to piss and if you’d like me to wipe from front to back or just drip dry,” I smiled. He glared.
“And do you want me to suck your cock Sundays at four? Or do you prefer Wednesdays at six? I’m just trying to make you happy.”
His anger amplified before my eyes. His handsome features darkened, and his stare turned glacial. I smiled a little bigger and leaned back, crossing my arms. With a clenched jaw, he shoved away from the table and stalked off. A minute later the front door slammed so hard the large windows vibrated.
Covering my face with my hands, my smile fell away and I sighed. Was this really what my life was going to be like for a year? I suddenly had an overwhelming desire to drown my sorrows in a bottle of Jack. There wasn’t any way to describe the feeling of being trapped and pretty much helpless.
My entire life had been uprooted and turned upside down in the span of a few weeks.
The old adage ‘be careful what you wish for’ could never ring truer than now.
Pierce Serban was undeniably gorgeous, wealthy, and dangerous. Some girls dreamed of being with men like him, the head of a criminal organization.
I just wanted to go home.
His good looks didn’t make up for his shitty personality, and they damn sure didn’t make this situation any better.
Pierce stayed gone for forty-eight hours.
I wish I could pretend this didn’t bother me, that if he dropped dead, I’d be just fine, but that wasn’t the case at all. I hated the bittersweet feelings inside me that refused to go away.
He was a devious, lying, conniving asshole I couldn’t seem to hate. As shitty as the situation was, it seemed to be the norm for us. He’d disappear for hours or days at a time and then come back, offering no explanation for what he’d been doing or where he’d been.
Under ordinary circumstances—or ordinary for our lifestyle—I would be the first person he told everything to, one of the only people he trusted enough to spill secrets. But this was all so far beyond ordinary, and neither of us trusted the other.
Trying to keep myself occupied, I read every magazine he had twice—even the spreads. I binge watched an entire season of Friends and stuffed my face with anything and everything that looked appealing. The next day was more of the same. I got so irate I wound up watering the plants and dusting the entire house just to stop myself from going completely insane.
That night, when Pierce still hadn’t made an appearance, my mind began coming up with all sorts of disturbing scenarios.
