Page 31 of Arranged Deception


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I remove my sunglasses so I can really enjoy the sights encompassing me. There are cliffs, the shore, the water, even random clusters of small mountains emerging from the sea. My father traveled a lot with my mother, and other times with my brothers, but I never went. I wasn’t jumping and begging to go anywhere with him, but it would have been nice if I could’ve gone alone at least and seen some of the world. Being sheltered makes moments like this worth one’s weight in gold.

I sneak a look at Nico, and our eyes meet. But just like that, they break contact, and we resume the standoff. It’s so hard to read this man. If I’m supposed to report back to my father about all-things Nico, I will have to crack him and get inside his mind. And sure, the banter is fun and leads to the best sex, but every once in a while, I spot that look on him, of intrigued desire to see what would be if we could just get along.

Maybe this is the best way to get in. Keep up the back and forth and the moods that make his brows furrow as he clenches his jaw.

Some would say that I’m a mastermind, and others would say I’m a fool who is willingly chancing my own death. The hard truth is that I’m dead to my father if I don’t betray Nico, and I’m dead if Nico finds out. I just have to decide which one I would rather be the one who takes my life.

In the past two days, I’ve been swayed to let it be the cocky, arrogant husband I was forced to marry, instead of the man who tormented me emotionally, mentally, and physically my entire life.

Approaching the yacht, we do a few circles, and I shout to Nico, “Are we playing a game of ring around the boat?”

“No, Emelia. The security team is still making sure it’s safe. Including the divers.”

I snort. “The divers? What is this, the secret service?”

“It’s like you were locked in a tower or bumped your head, principessa. You want to get on a glaring target, then be my guest. I, however, still have business to conduct.” Gesturing toward the boat, he tries to make his point clearer.

I roll my eyes, like he makes me do so very often, but I keep my mouth shut.

“Wow, no rebuttal. Who knew the sound of silence could be so sweet.”

I turn and look at him, crossing my legs and resting my chin on my hand as my elbow balances on my knee. With my other hand, I lift my sunglasses and smirk. “You know, a not-so-wise man told me once that jabs are useless and unbecoming.” I tilt my head as I use his own words against him, and he cracks, his jaw starting to tic in response.

Boom.

“Enough. Get us on the boat. My wife must be craving a lesson,” he growls, hatred that can’t mask the arousal seeping out of him. The expression that perfect combination creates on his handsome face calls to the most feminine parts of me. The spot between my legs feels it first, then it spreads throughout my body, hitting every nerve ending.

But there is an even deeper desire in me. To resist him. With each bit of information I learn, the more I will let him have me. He doesn’t need to know that, and yes, it may be hard for me to resist, but there is a job to be done here. And there is a line I have to draw somewhere.

If I give him everything just because I have the same insatiable desire, what bargaining tool will I have after that?

There must be a line in the sand, a place in this marriage where I have control. And this is the way to do it, his Achilles’ heel—his lust.

CHAPTER SEVEN

NICO

The entire drive,boat ride, and then her snide little remarks had my palms aching to grab onto pounds of her flesh and bruise them with my hateful fucking. There are these moments that I see her thinking she runs the marriage, and while it's good she does it with her shoulders squared, Emelia needs to know and learn balance. She must understand that her boldness can be mistaken for disrespect toward me.

I want her to be controlled and aware, not pompous and disrespectful. Not just in public, but also behind closed doors. If she were one of my men in the outfit, I would have her kiss my fucking shoes, or worse.

We get on the boat, and I grab the inner part of her bicep and start pulling her to the bedroom. She resists, putting her heels in the floor, but she is no match for my strength.

“No!” she screams, and I halt.

“No?” I question her.

“I said no. If you want to yell or punish me, go for it. But I control my body. I have full autonomy over it, and you will not get any of it unless I let you.” Her voice is controlled and low, every word packing a thousand punches. I drop her arm and lift my chin. I’m a bastard, but I’m not that kind.

“Fine. Then you can go to the cabin and come up when dinner is ready. Until then, enjoy your solitude.”

Her grin is malicious. “Gladly.”

Emelia thinks she’s won. That’s cute. But she has done everythingbutthat. I lead the way and show her where our room is. She steps in and looks around, the walls nearly barren, with only one large window showing the ocean and its depths.

“What a beautiful room to be away from you,” she gloats.

“I’m glad. Because you won’t leave it until you’re ready to learn a lesson. You don’t speak to me like that in front of any of my men. You broke a rule today, Emelia, and now you can sit with it.”

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