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I can’t shake the feeling that this man isn’t being totally honest with us. It feels like he’s hiding something.
Isiah turns to me. “What is it you want to do if you don’t want to marry?”
I gape at him. “Are you suggesting that I couldn’t possibly do anything but be a wife?”
“Oh, here we go!” Maria whines.
Cain just chuckles and Luciana looks amused, but Nina shakes her head. “Can we get through this evening without an argument?”
“It is a woman’s role, isn’t it?”
Rage coils through me as I glare at him. “What exactly do you believe a woman’s role entails?” I ask, anger already spiking through my blood at his blatant sexist remark.
Isiah smirks, undeterred by my hostility. “I believe that a woman’s role is at home, tending to her family and looking after the children. She should obey any commands from her husband or father and remain in their shadow, doing only what is asked of her.” He leans toward me. “And she should willingly open her legs at any given moment to give unfettered access to her sopping wet cunt and her tight little asshole,” he whispers, so only I can hear.
I clench my fists by my sides, trying not to let my traitorous, hormonal body react to his vile words. “That’s an archaic way of thinking! A woman deserves to be an equal partner in a relationship and have a say in decisions that affect her life. She shouldn’t be told what to do by any man just because he’s older or of a wealthier rank than her—it is unjust! A woman has as much right as a man to make decisions.”
Isiah rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Real men, like myself and your father”— he nods at my dad— “don’t need a woman’s input in any matters other than how to look after children. Allowing women control in our world would only bring chaos.”
My dad, like the asshole he is, laughs and nods. “Quite right, Isiah.”
My mom glares at him. “Giovanni!”
My fury boils over and I can no longer contain it. There’s so much wrong with his mindset I hardly know where to begin. “Do you not realize how backward and offensive your views are? Women are as capable of understanding complex topics as well as men, if not better!” I shake my head. “There are women leaders of the cartel and they’re often better than the men. To think that men possess some kind of higher intelligence or penchant for violence is ridiculous. Some women are better at it than men, even if men would never admit it.”
Isiah tilts his head. “Do you believe you are one of those women?”
I give him my most intimidating stare. “Yes.”
It doesn’t seem to faze him though, and the honest truth is, I’m not one of those women. I don’t have a penchant for violence or for running things. All my life, I’ve been trained for the exact fucking role he just described, and that’s what makes it worse.
“Excuse me,” I say, standing. “I need to use the restroom.” I walk away before anyone can respond, because right now, all I need is to be on my own.
I’ve always understood the injustice of my position, but it makes it all the more absolute when I hear that jackass spell it out in black and white.
I go into the bathroom, which is empty, standing over the sink as I try to gather my thoughts. In the silence of this safe space, I can feel all my anger and sadness weighing heavily on me. The unfairness of what my life must become is something I can no longer brush under the carpet.
Suddenly, the door opens and Isiah walks in. He seems to take up all the space in the room with his presence and it makes my stomach flip with nerves. We are alone now, like two combatants ready to enter battle. His eyes search mine as if he can see right to my core and all the vulnerability I harbor behind the walls I so carefully erect.
“You can’t run away from the truth, love,” he says, breaking the palpable, charged silence. “I’m going to be your husband, whether you like it or not.” He turns to the door and pushes the lock across, locking us inside.
“Bullshit,” I say, clenching my hands by my sides as I stand as tall as physically possible. Inside, I’m panicking, as this predator has locked me in here with him and is blocking the exit. “If that’s true, why has my dad invited two other men to the house tomorrow evening?”
It appears that’s news to him as his eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”
“What good would it be for me to lie about that?”
He looms closer, a triumphant glint in his eye. “Let me show you why I’m the man you want to marry.”
Every step brings his magnetic pull closer, as if I’m sucked in by his very presence. I hate how drawn to him I am, despite everything.
“No.” My voice wavers and there’s no hint of strength behind it.
His throaty chuckle sends chills down my spine. “Let me make you wish we were already married.”
I take a quick sidestep in an attempt to break away, and reach the door, but he’s too fast. An iron arm wraps around my waist and pulls me roughly against him. His long fingers slide beneath the hem of my dress, and suddenly I’m engulfed in flames.
I gasp in shock as Isiah boldly pushes the elastic of my panties aside and inserts a finger into my passage.
