It takes swallowing a heavy lump of pride to admit that watching Viktor get close to Elena made me see red. I wanted to howl and roar and smash something—preferably that Russian prick’s pretty face. What happened in the bathhouse was a long time coming, and it felt so fucking good to finally have Elena the way I wanted. By the time I came down her throat, I had made up my mind. I need to have the rest of her—all of her—and it can’t wait. I might be rushing this marriage to put an end to the power struggle with Oleg, but I won’t deny I have my own motives. Motives that make me want to rush her to the courthouse first thing in the morning to get it done.
That’s not the way things are done in my world. Everything must be done with as much fanfare as possible. Which means I have no choice but to rely on mine and Elena’s agreement to keep her in check when we’re in public. Private time is another matter.
Elena smiled and leaned into me like a loving fiancée after the announcement. She accepted hugs and congratulations without batting an eyelash. Standing at my side for what was left of the party, she presented the perfect image of my future bride, proving that I’m making the right decision. Not every woman is cut out for life at a mobster’s side. Elena has what it takes, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
Once we step into the bedroom, I lock the door and turn to face her, waiting for the bomb to drop.
Elena puts her hands on her hips and gives me a stare that would melt the flesh from my bones if looks could kill. “What … the fuck … was that?”
Her voice is low and raspy, but I can hear the fury simmering in the undertones.
“It’s exactly what I said it is. We’re getting married.”
Threading her fingers through her hair, Elena lets out a rough growl. “Are you out of your mind? This was not what we agreed on!”
I cross my arms and lean against the door. “It’s exactly what we agreed on. You belong to me now, and I do what I want with you. In exchange, you get to live.”
Elena starts pacing and shaking her head as if trying to wake up from a lucid dream. “You told me this was just an act to get Oleg off your back. You lied to me.”
“No, I simply changed my mind. I came to see that marrying you is the answer to all our problems.”
She uses one arm to swipe the contents of my nightstand to the floor. The glass Mariana filled for me shatters and water splashes the carpet. My pill bottles roll in different directions, and the watch I left there last night crashes against the wall.
“Our problems? This shit with Oleg is your mess, not mine!”
I push away from the door and reach for her. Elena slaps my hand away, causing the first crack in my calm demeanor. Stalking her across the room, I consider bending her over and spanking her again. Just the thought of her ass, bared by that scrap of a bikini and turned red with my handprints, makes my cock start to swell.
“There’s only one flaw in your logic, gatita. Because of our agreement, my problems are your problems. To keep up your end of the bargain, you need to continue being of use to me. Now, you’ll do it as a wife and not just a girlfriend.”
“So, if I refuse to go through with it, you’ll kill me. Is that what you’re saying?”
She’s screaming now, arms spread wide and eyes darting. She stops retreating, and when I get close enough, she shoves me. It isn’t enough to move me, so she snarls and slams her palm into my jaw. The blow doesn’t throw me as much as the look in her eyes—desperate and pained and terrified.
“I’ll allow that because you’re angry and entitled to your feelings,” I warn her. “But if you raise your hand to me again, your punishment in the bathhouse will seem like child’s play compared to what I’ll do to you.”
“Fuck you!” she bellows. “I won’t do it. Do you hear me? I would rather die than marry you, so if that’s how it has to be then let’s get it over with.”
I go deathly still as she backs toward the nightstand again, this time reaching for the