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Slamming my fists against the glass, I scream, “Help!”
All the while Roman watches me with amused interest. That asshole is enjoying this, he’s entertained by watching my terror or suffering. I was right about him. He is wicked.
The car begins to roll forward and we pull away from my home. Only then do I realize that I never had the chance to say goodbye to my mama, sisters, and cousin. Am I ever going to see them again? Yes—at my wedding.
There’s no point in screaming any more. No one’s around to hear, and even if they were, not a single soul is coming to my rescue. In the span of half an hour my life has veered so far off course that I barely recognize it as my own. I’d recently gotten my head wrapped around the idea of being Nik’s wife, only to have that future torn away and replaced with one much worse.
To add insult to injury, Roman doesn’t seem affected in the least. He sits across from me, legs spread wide, thumbing through his phone as if he didn’t just act the part of a tornado and upend my entire world.
I don’t even think he likes me. So why is he doing this? What benefit is it to him to steal me from not only Nik but my entire family?
Did Papa cross this man in some way?
Is Nik his enemy?
Am I being used to get back at either or both of them?
I don’t have any answers, and until this man starts talking I’m not likely to get any. So, clenching my teeth, I try my best to ignore the big brute by staring out the window.
The trip takes about an hour before we turn onto a long, winding driveway that climbs into forested hills. Roman De Luca’s private estate, lit with numerous lamps, is even more impressive than my father’s place. We are truly out in the country now. Private, remote, isolated. Dread settles in my gut, knowing there’s no easy escape from here.
I suddenly have the feeling of being completely, devastatingly, alone.
As if to compound my fears, snow begins to fall in huge puffy flakes and sticks to the frozen ground. Normally I love the snow. The way it blankets the world, hushing all other sound, transforming a familiar landscape into an enchanted wonderland.
But right now, the sight of snowflakes makes me feel trapped. At the rate it’s falling, we’ll have a couple of feet before morning. I glance across at Roman. Maybe what they say about him holds some truth, and he can control the weather—especially storms both out at sea and inland.
It’s a ridiculous thought, I know.
But if ever there was a Greek God in a man’s body, he’d look and act like Roman De Luca. Gorgeous, yet heartless. I guarantee it.
The limo pulls up in front of a brown stone mansion and the car doors unlock. The sharp click eases some of the pressure in my chest. There’s nowhere to run now, but I let myself out, every inch of me aware of Roman climbing out after me, his heat pressing into my back.
I shiver in the sudden cold. My satin dress offers little protection against the freezing temperature and icy flakes that melt on my skin. The white flurry is so thick I can barely see the front of the house.
“Come.” Roman places a light touch on my lower back and guides me through the front door.
Inside, the foyer is warm and smells of wood oil. Like the exterior, the interior is formidable and masculine. Rich, dark wooden and leather furniture occupies the space. The floors are black and white marble, the walls have paneling all the way up to the soaring ceiling. Lamp light casts an amber glow over the scene. The space is grand yet soulless, just like my giant captor who inhabits this place.
The driver deposits several suitcases by the door—my suitcases. It seems Papa had instructed someone to pack my belongings. He was determined to send me away. That knowledge is like a sucker punch to the stomach. The back of my eyes sting, but I refuse to let a single tear fall in front of Roman. He doesn’t deserve to see the pain he’s inflicted on me.
This is my new life, whether I like it or not.
Roman moves further into the house. With nothing better to do, I decide to follow him. I need answers.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask as we enter the kitchen. It’s also all dark wood and gleaming marble. Impressively appointed with a commercial sized refrigerator and a twelve-burner stove that would make a chef weep with joy.
Roman glances over his shoulder and lifts a dark brow. “Doing what to you?”
“I’m not in the mood to play games. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. Why did you take me from my home? Why do you want to marry me? You don’t even know me.”
Roman scowls as he pours bourbon into two glasses, then slides one to me across the enormous, glossy black and white marble island. I pick it up, grateful to have something to occupy my fidgety hands. I’m not used to confronting the men in my life, but this must be done.
“My reasons are none of your concern.” His answer infuriates me.
“None of my concern?Noneof my—” I cut myself off with a huff, then decide to let out my frustration. “This is my life! I’d say everything going on right now is my concern. Now answer the goddamn question.”
Curiously eyeing me, he drains his drink in one swallow, then refills his glass. “What happened to the sweet, quiet, obedient girl who defends drunken abusers and sics goons on the man who saved her?”
