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The man before me doesn’t deserve any emotions from me, not even disgust. And I suddenly realize that even most of my reactions to his abusive behavior were tied to my lingering emotions, that lingering hope.
So I carry on as he orders—I watch him. Watch him fuck the woman’s brains out. Watch as he grins at me. How she moans her pleasure… or her fake one. I watch it all because he’s making every decision I will have to make from this moment on so much easier. Every thrust, every sound as their skin slaps together, every grunt, every way in which he squeezes her flesh, kills another part of the person I am around him.
So I smile. He’s just decided his own fate, and he doesn’t even know he did.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
MORRIGAN
Maybe I’m already dead, because this definitely feels like some sort of hell.
“It’s so exciting, isn’t it, Morrigan?” My mother’s friend sits on the other side of the dining table, trying to smile, but failing miserably. Whoever the fuck injected that Botox into her face should have their license revoked. It looks revolting.
I open my mouth to respond, but my mother cuts me off.
“Oh yes, so very exciting! Organizing the wedding is a dream.”
The woman blinks once at me before turning to my mother, but I can’t be bothered to be affected in any way, so I just stick my fork in another tomato and shove it into my mouth, chewing through her next question.
“So have you made any arrangements? Did you set a date?”
I chew the rest of that tomato, and again, I’m just about to speak when Ryan’s voice booms next to me.
“We’ve made plenty of arrangements, and we did actually set a date as well. We are very excited.” They’re really scared I’ll open my mouth and out them, aren’t they? He grabs my thigh under the table, squeezing hard enough that my back straightens and my body twitches. I slap my hand over his, pulling at one of his fingers to try to get him off.
“But then again, there is no…” I begin.
“Point in waiting.” The motherfucker interrupts me again! “We want to do it as soon as we can. We’re just waiting for me to settle into the business.”
I can feel his threatening gaze on me, but it doesn’t have the effect he hoped for. A heavy indifference has made a home in me since last night, and I’m basking in its chill. When his bruising grip tightens farther, I turn my gaze to him, and without hesitation, I dig my fingernails with as much force as I can muster at this moment, until he scrunches his nose and snaps his hand away.
“I agree,” my mother continues. “There is no reason for a couple in love to wait too long to get married. Not when you know there’s a perfect union already.”
I turn my gaze to the woman, an incredulous smile creeping on my lips. She’s trying too hard with her deception. Does she think the people around us are blind?
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to excuse myself.” Ryan peeks at his phone screen, his brows furrowing slightly, before putting it back on the table, screen down. “I’m putting off fires everywhere nowadays.” He laughs at the guests, his gaze fixing longer on my parents.
“It’s to be expected. Picking up a new business, it takes a while to adjust and work out all its kinks.” My father takes a sip of his red wine as he places his knife and fork on his plate, next to the half-eaten steak. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Thank you, Liam, but that won’t be necessary. Morrigan will walk me out. Sheila, this was delicious. So sorry I couldn’t stay any longer. Everyone”—he turns to the rest of the guests—“it was a pleasure.”
His politeness just about turns my stomach over, but everyone else at the table swallows the bullshit, smiling and extending their well wishes. Goddamn idiots, all of them… with two exceptions—The Serpent and Maddox, sitting on the far right next to the head of the table. They merely nod at Ryan, in such a slight way you could blink and miss it.
“Morrigan.” He’s already pulling my chair back with me in it, forcing me to suddenly drop my cutlery onto the plate with a loud rattle. I would very much like to make a scene right now. Only, after last night, I have little energy, and I would prefer planning my move.
I walk out of the room, the rest of the guests continuing their meal and chatter as we go to the foyer. He grabs his coat, and before he closes the buttons, he pulls a large brown envelope out of it and hands it to me.
“I would advise you don’t open it around your parents, or anyone, for that matter.” He hands it to me, and I reluctantly reach over for it.
“What is this?” It’s on the heavier side, but I can tell there’s paper inside.
“I figured that threatening your family’s or friend’s life might not be enough motivation for you to stop your refusal to marry me. So I’m threatening yours as well.”
What the hell?!
I don’t have time to react, too consumed by his words, when he grabs the back of my head and pulls me to him, his slimy lips pressing onto mine as I attempt to push him away.
There was a time when kissing him was pleasurable. It feels as if eons have passed… I can’t pinpoint anymore the exact moment it all shifted. The memories don’t feel like they belong to me anymore.
