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He's still sitting in the back seat with me. That's something.
Now if only I can get him to look at me.
“The wedding dress should be ready tomorrow,” I tell him. He gives a quiet hum of acknowledgment. In the review mirror, I see Anton's eyes flick back to us, concern lining the edges. I don't understand. He's the one forcing me into this marriage in the first place, I feel like he should at least show some interest.
“Were you able to get the information I needed?” Adrian lifts his head to ask his second in command.
“Yes.”
“Good,” he says. “If I can figure out how they play a part in all this, maybe I can start putting some pieces together.”
“Who?” I ask my soon-to-be husband. If he's even lucky to be called that, at this point.
“Doesn't matter.” he shrugs it off. “Not important for you to know.”
I frown. Where is all of this coming from? “But important enough that you had to drag it up now?” Why is he acting weird? Anton gives a small cough from the driver's seat. Is it a warning to me or to his boss?
“My business is just that, Vanya.” He finally puts down his cell phone. I have his attention, but now I don't know if I want it. The look on his face melts away any hopes that surfaced last night after he made me orgasm. The man who tenderly held me in my family's crypt is gone. Maybe he was never there at all. Was it all a ruse or maybe it was my imagination projecting onto him who I wanted him to be?
“I'm going to be your wife,” I hiss, but the sadness in my voice dulls the sharp edge of it.
“And as my wife you will be safe and provided for,” he tells me with a straight face. “Nothing has changed, Vanya. You will do as you're told. Follow the rules and we won't have any problems.”
Rules?
Rules!
“Are you kidding me right now?” I want to scream at him, but Anton is in the car.
“Vanya,” Adrian warns me but at this point, I’m not listening to anything he has to say.
“What about last night?” Pretty sure my soul is withering in my body. “And today? Comforting me at the crypt. What was what? Providing for me?”
“You take care of my needs and I take care of yours.”
No. He. Did. Not.
“That's what last night was all about, huh?” Tears are pushing at the back of my eyes, the pressure building. “Fulfilling your needs?”
“That is your job as my wife.”
I snort in disbelief. “I’m not your wife yet, Adrian,” I remind him, holding up the empty ring finger. “And I honestly don’t think I plan to be if this is what you are offering.”
A growl rips through him and a moment later his seatbelt is off and he’s crowding my space, his body pressing up against mine.
“There are two choices here, Vanya,” he sneers, all traces of the man who comforted me last night after the fire, gone. “Become my wife or go back on the auction block. You choose.”
Hear that? That is the sound of my heart shattering.
This isn’t the boy I fell in love with. He isn’t the one who wrote those poetic words to me expressing his love, frustrations, and dreams. Those letters kept me going when all I wanted to do was give up. I think back to the fire, his strong arms wrapped around me, and his voice whispering words of reassurance in my ear. His gentle touch in the bath and the careful way he made love to me.
Was that all a mask? A façade to lure me into a false sense of security so he could tear down my walls? Is he still punishing me for being a Castellanos? Something I have no control over? Svetlana was wrong when she told me I was a queen. She was wrong when she’d said that Adrian would treat me with the respect a wife deserved.
A wife deserves love and safety, and he can’t give me either of those. How can a king love a pawn he pushes around the board, waiting for the right moment to sacrifice it for his own good? And safety? He might be able to keep me safe from a bullet—but I would never feel safe giving him the one thing that matters the most.
My heart.
“Okay.” I take a long, defeated breath. That seems to please him because he straightens back into his seat, re-buckling his seatbelt. I chuckle sadly, my eyes burning into his.
