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“I was just thinking, you seem rather interested in our marriage. Yours not doing it for you?” So much for not provoking him. He’s a dick who needs to be put in his place, and if I’m the only one who’ll do that, then so be it.
“Tara.” Marnix brings his hand up to mine and gives it a warning squeeze, reminding me that we both need to play a part, no matter how pissed off I am.
Randall narrows his eyes at me.“My marriage is fine. Thank you.” His tone is angry, but the evil in his glare is what hitches my breath for a second. “You got her knocked up yet? I know how important it is to you Taylors to keep your legacy going.”
Excuse me? We’ve been married for a whole week. For one, there’s no way that would even be possible to know if I were and two, I’d never tell him if I were.
“That’s none of your business.” The audacity of this man to think he has a right to know that or even ask it in the first place.
“Hopefully you had a good prenup drafted. Wouldn’t want a low class whore to run off with all your money.”
I might be going to prison tonight. There’s no way I can just stand around and let this guy say shit like that.
“What the fuck did you just call me?” I’m trying to get out of Marnix’s hold so I can throw a swing at Randall. All I want to do is put my hands on him and show him how this low class whore can beat his ass.
He just smirks at Marnix. “You really should put a muzzle on this one. Such a beautiful thing—pity she ruins it all by opening her trap.”
Red. It’s all I can fucking see right now. Marnix is just standing here beside me, not doing a fucking thing to stop Randall from running his mouth.
He’s not defending me.
Not like I expected anything different. He won’t put Randall in his place, because he’s too worried about him digging for proof that this marriage is fake. The only person I’ve ever been able to count on is myself—I don’t know why I expected having a husband to change that.
