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I honestly haven’t decided on that yet. In the past, I've had men in here cowering or raising their chins, indicating that they won't say anything about whatever it is I'm after.
Never have I had a woman like this.
At my deposal.
For me to do whatever I want with.
The idea is as alluring as seeing how red her blood is and listening to how high-pitched her scream is.
“I know you know how to talk,” she spits out, trying to follow me with her eyes as I go behind you. “Just tell me already.”
Isn’t that half the fun?
That’s what I want to say, but that would require words and affirmation of things that will pass. And I’m still undecided on what’s going to happen in this room.
Haven Kincaid wasn’t on my radar before.
However, now she is, and I don’t know how big of a threat that casts over my family, but she’s exactly where she needs to be. That way, I have full control over any of her movements.
“Where’s my father?”
A small smile graces my lips, and I give consent for them to show how grateful I am for one dead Kincaid to be laid out and gone.
“Where is he?” Haven repeats again, only allowing seconds for me to answer the first time.
She begins to struggle again against the strands around her hands and frame, but to no avail.
Poor girl.
Either Cillian and her father poorly advised her that we take no prisoners, or they just didn’t educate her at all about us.
Either way, she’s about to learn the hard way.
Making my way in front of her, I feel her impatient gaze on me as I study the room. The deep purple paint along the walls, pictures of the Irish countryside, and fresh white roses on top of a side table.
My mother’s small touches make the place appear homey and welcoming, but I’m fully aware that it wouldn’t make Haven feel that way.
It probably feels more like hell if you ask me.
It’ll also continue to stay that way.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” Haven solicits with an evenness to her tone. “If you don’t want to continue in this marriage, I’m definitely okay with calling it off.”
I steer my gaze over to her and perk a brow.
Does she now?
If the chit knew what was good for her, she wouldn’t be telling me anything about what she desires or doesn’t want. I’m only going to do the opposite while she keeps feeding me ammo to use against her.
“You don’t seem like the marrying kind,” she divulges as if I don’t know myself. And, technically, she’s not wrong.
However, my mother would love an army of grandkids, and I know that Kohen and Arlo could give those to her. Yet, her wish is to have us all better off, married, happy, and with a flock full of little ones running up and around this very house.
I allowed my mother’s dreams to take flight and blossom with no qualms about it. It wasn’t that I didn’t picture those things. I just didn’t fantasize about them. My goals are to protect my family and be there when needed. A woman is just an annoying feature that is strapped onto you for life while they constantly beg for your attention.
And, while Haven doesn’t seem to want it, I wish to give it to her anyway.
“You can’t be so blind as to not see that.”
