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At the reminder of the drugs, my stomach roils. I force out a long breath and place a hand against my stomach. Yep. Going to need a minute. Maybe if I puke on Drew’s dad, then he’ll let me walk out of here.
Something tells me it’s not me he wants but Sebastian’s money.
When Drew crosses the room to the other man lurking near the door, he opens a small envelope and passes over a thick folded stack of paper. I barely spare the paper a glance because at that moment I spot the outline of something at Drew’s back. The glint of metal is barely noticeable, but I see it. A gun. He’s got a gun?
My breath stalls, my lungs starving for oxygen. What the hell does he want me to do here? Fight, play along with the ceremony? I assume he won’t let things get far enough that we are actually hitched for life. There’s no way he would want that. Right?
As I’m thinking about it, Drew returns to my side and holds out the papers. “Take a look at it, read it, front to back, and we'll sign it before the actual ceremony.”
I’m not sure what he sees in my face, but his mouth turns down, the slick grin slides away, and he studies me. “Bel? Take it.”
I snatch it out of his hand, glaring now. I might trust him, but that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed as hell. The memory of the jab in the neck returns slowly, and I remember calling him out the same way. Asshole. As soon as we’re done here, I’m kicking his ass.
I snap the papers folded in thirds open and skim the first page. It seems to be a standard marriage contract except all the stipulations about what is mine is Drew’s and what is Drew’s is his family’s. Ridiculous. I’m not signing this bullshit.
He kneels in front of me, his tuxedo pants stretching across his muscular thighs obscenely. I can’t help but stare, and his smirk this time is real. “Bel?”
I lean in, and he tugs me forward, pressing a kiss to my mouth. It’s so quick it’s over before I can comprehend it’s happening and those wicked lips of his skim from my own across my jaw, stopping at the shell of my ear.
“Stall for time,” he whispers.
When he pulls away, I glare and then turn the contract page as if I’m reading very, very slowly.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s a marriage contract. There’s no need to review every page. Now get your ass up so we can do this,” Drew’s dad grouses from across the room.
I’m about to give this man a run for his money.
I slap the contract at Drew’s chest hard enough to send him back on his ass on the fancy carpet. There’s a flash of a grin, then his eyes harden. “Is this you telling me you want to play? Because I can fuck you right here on the carpert for the world to see. Or you can be a good girl, get up, sign the contract, and marry me.”
When he’s distracted trying to stand in his fancy clothes, I scoop up the full skirt of my dress, relieved he at least put my Converse back on my feet, and I race toward the door. The man standing near it watches with a smirk but does nothing to try to stop me as I reach the open double doors. The rubber soles of my shoes slap on the marble floor in the foyer. I don’t get far before an arm circles my waist, dragging me backward. My back crashes into a hard body, and I know without even looking back that it’s Drew.
“Bel,” he whispers. His hands come around me, and it’s all I can do not to lean into him, fall into him, and let him carry me out of this.
He might not have trusted me enough to be a part of his little plan, but he needs me to do something now, right? I can’t let him walk back in there alone. Knowing what will happen if he lets me run. His father will take it out of his hide, and I don’t know how that will go, seeing as he’s armed. Yes, I imagine he’s going to kill his asshole father very soon, but I don’t want things to go wrong for him. I don’t want to make it worse.
I allow myself one blissful second of soaking up his strength and his force of will. Then I turn around, pull my hand back, and slap him hard across the face. There’s a stinging in my hand, but it’s a welcome sensation. It reminds me I’m alive.
“I hate you,” I growl.
His lip quirks, and I spot the other two men watching from the study doorway. “That’s okay. You don’t have to like me to fuck me or even marry me. Plus, we both know how much your hate turns me on.”
There’s so much conviction in his tone I have to really meet his eyes to see underneath. Damn. He missed his calling on the stage or with his stupidly good looks in movies. Maybe this plan needs whatever level of devotion he’s now bringing to pull it off. I move to slap him again, but he grabs my hand and tugs it down to his chest, then spins me and lifts me, all in seconds, carrying me back into the study, my body bouncing on his shoulder. “As much as I love a good chase, I want to get this done and over with,” he says, passing his father and the other man.
He sets me back on my feet near the open space off to the side of the room. “Don’t do this,” I plead with Drew. Then to his father and the other man. “Don’t do this.”
His father sees my request as a weakness, I can tell, as his lip curls. “Stop begging, girl, or I won’t let you enjoy your wedding night. There has to be some consolation prize, right?”
Him speaking about his son that way, like something to be used and discarded, makes my already queasy stomach clench harder. Yup. Definitely might puke on one or both of them.
The absolute disgust refuses to leave my face, and Drew’s father must notice this as he steps toward me, the same predatory slow walk that Drew has sometimes. “You will learn your place, Bel, or I’ll make sure that place is six feet under the dirt.”
“Don’t fucking threaten her,” Drew snaps from a foot away now. “I did exactly as you asked, and while this is me following your directions, don’t think for a second that I’m letting you touch her. She will be my wife, and she will be respected as a member of this family. Let me know if you have a problem with her, and I will take care of it. That’s my duty as her husband.”
I hate how Drew speaks about me as if I’m a disposable object, but I also know this is part of the plan. He’s got to play the part and walk the line.
Drew’s father has no respect or regard for women besides what they can offer him. It’s obvious from the way his wife lays in that hospital bed, barely alive while he sleeps around with women half his own age. It’s disgusting, and creepy. I might think Drew is a villain, but his father is evil. Pure evil through and through. He deserves to die. And that brings me some measure of solace as I stand toe-to-toe with him.
I hold the trust I have in Drew tight in my hands. I have to believe he will interfere if things get out of hand, so I take this chance to say what I’ve been dying to say since I first saw the bruises on Drew’s skin. “You’re nothing but a bully. And eventually, the bully gets bullied by someone who is bigger and stronger.”
