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In one swift move, my brother had my arms in his grip, prying the gun from my hold and handing it to Radley.
“What the hell were you thinking, Mia?” My brother muttered as he led me to my bedroom.
“I don’t want to die.”
My brother would never understand the fear, and pain I felt for those three years. I became a shell of myself. My husband wanted me to be a reflection of him in every way possible. Whatever he liked, I had to. What he didn’t like, I didn’t. I couldn’t be my own person and when I resisted, I was beaten for hours.
He didn’t hide how he treated me, instead, he boasted about it. In front of his goons, peers, and whoever he wanted to impress.
At least I could thank him for his possessiveness. He allowed no one to touch me but him. A trait of his I appreciated because it was clear his men were itching for their chance with me. It was hard not to read their intentions- the way their eyes lit up each time Ilya showed how much power he had over me.
I couldn’t live like that again; waiting for my husband to kill me. And if Galdur was anything like the rumors said, it would be no quick death. He would have no mercy to lend me.
I heard the click of my door followed by Michael ordering Radley not to unlock my door until tomorrow when I would finally meet my future husband.
The one they said only appeared when it was time to collect your soul, ready to condemn it to hell.
Chapter Four
ELIAS
My driver, Elijah, opened my door as I step out of the tinted SUV and fastened the button on my black suit.
The sign of L’deour shining down at me. It was my favorite place to dine now and again. The food wasn’t bad plus I loved the exclusivity of the restaurant.
I walked up to the entrance, my hands in my pockets and Silas in tow. He wanted to meet the woman who was brave enough to kill Ilya Banrov.
Ilya was no small-time gangster; he was well known in my circle, even though I hated the man, but it had to be a blow to the family’s ego to know a woman killed their head after many had tried and failed.
My men surrounded the building, some joining us inside as the elegant décor welcomed us. The few people who occupied the floor knew to keep their heads to their plates and those at their table, afraid to catch my attention.
My chest hummed, feasting upon their fear. It was well-known my position in this country. I wasn’t known for my generosity or my looks, but for my brutality and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It kept people in line.
The owner personally came and escorted me to the back room where I would be hosting this evening’s dinner.
Once I entered the room, Michael stood nodding his head toward me. I did the same, granting him permission to sit.
I turned to the girl who had her head down, but her hair acted as a curtain, blocking me from laying my eyes on her face. I waited until she acknowledged me but either she was clueless or chose not to.
I found out it was the latter as Michael nudged the girl, anger seething between his teeth as he leaned over and whispered in her ear.
She was stubborn.
I found it amusing. My guess was she didn’t want this marriage no more than I did but she was placed in a peculiar situation that landed her in my path.
“Leave her be,” I told Michael, releasing the button of my suit as I sat down, Silas mimicking me.
Michael huffed but did as I said.
“This is Mia. She has not been herself lately,” Michael said with an uneasy smile on his face.
“I’m sure. She did kill a man two weeks ago,” I said, tapping my fingers on the table.
The girl’s body stiffened at the mention of her murdered husband, but she remained as she was, her hair protecting her from our peering eyes.
“Ah, so she can hear,” I said, grinning.
“Mia. Stop behaving this way,” Michael said as his hand tried to force her chin up.
