Monster A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,7
my chest erupted at my name rolling off his tongue. “Evie. Is that French?”
“No idea. Mom probably heard it on TV.”
“Where is she?”
I shrugged, ignoring the ache. “Living her best life somewhere else.”
“What does that mean?”
“Now you’re interested in my backstory? After biting my head off the whole fucking night? Give me the spritz back. Then make like a leaf, and split.”
His grim expression broke with the ghost of a smile. “You’re so wasted that you’re confusing your idioms.”
“Oh fuck off.”
I rarely got this nasty, but he brought it out in me. He’d trashed my every expectation and turned a celebration into a funeral.
A Whitney Houston ballad warbled through the air, breaking up the agony of another Italian folk song. Couples in the dark revolved, spinning effortlessly. That shot an arrow through my lingering euphoria.
A pang burrowed in my heart.
God, this sucked. “Can we go?”
“Not yet. You’re slurring and off-balance.” He planted the water in my hands. “Drink. Sober up.”
“Why do I have to sober up?”
“I need to make you mine, and I don’t fuck drunk girls.”
I squeezed the glass.
The bodyguard returned, balancing a giant plate of frites and poached salmon. The fat from the fish spiraled into my nostrils. Tony’s stare bored into me until I seized the fork. Then I dug into the entree. Cajun spice hit my tongue, melting with the buttery meat. I ate until the heaviness dissipated from my mind, leaving me in a frazzled panic.
What would I do when Tony got me alone?
“Feel better?”
I nodded, staring at his tie. I waited, torn apart by nerves.
He took my elbow. “Let’s get this over with.”
The hotel room was smaller than I liked.
A king-sized bed sat in the middle, swallowing the space. My dress trailed the carpet as I approached the windows overlooking the Boston Common, showcasing a flurry against the midnight sky. Snowflakes danced, weightless and free. I pressed my palm against the cold, willing it to enter my body and freeze my heart.
The door shut.
I swallowed hard.
My cousin coached me for tonight. She’d held my hand through the gory details of violent sex. Guys in the clubhouse could be rough, borderline abusive. There was always gossip about one or two members. The worst had been Crash, who’d died several years ago. He was a biker with an unblinking glare that reminded me of Tony.
Something was…wrong with him.
I turned, unable to bear the silence.
Tony stood nearby as though he expected me to run. He lifted his square jaw, his dark eyes growing with a wildness.
A hunger.
He’d already unbuttoned his collar. His rolled up sleeves revealed hairy, tatted forearms. Taut muscle peeked through his shirt, the bronzed skin accenting the shadows. My gaze panned down his golden neck and the savagely virile, perfectly sculpted body. Every fiber in me urged me to escape, but his beauty sucked the air from my lungs.
He’d take my virginity.
And the bastard wouldn’t be gentle.
A furnace-like heat consumed me, but I didn’t fight when he peeled his coat from my back. He’d wrapped me in it as we’d left the reception, the gesture warming me more than the wool.
I flexed my hands. “I guess we’re doing this.”
“Yes.”
He dropped the coat.
It landed, the sound making me jump. I gathered his coat. Shaking, I smoothed the fabric and draped it over a chair.
“It’s too nice to leave on the floor.”
He studied me, head cocked. “Nervous?”
His velvet-edged tone sounded curious, and my pulse raced uncomfortably.
I inhaled a ragged breath as I paced the narrow space between the bed and the dresser. I itched for something to do and glimpsed the mini-fridge. I opened it and grabbed a bottle.
Tony seized my wrist.
“I said, you’ve had enough.”
His growl mangled my nerves, but I daringly met his eyes.
“Who the fuck asked you?”
“Your liver.” He twisted the vodka from my grasp and shoved it away. “Your heart. Your brain. Every organ gets damaged from alcohol.”
“Is that why you’re such a nutcase?”
Doubt and fear congested my mind as Tony refused to take the bait. He kicked the fridge shut. “You’ll thank me in the morning when you’re not dry heaving.”
“You won’t even be here,” I shot back. “Right?”
“Nope.”
Thank God.
I sagged as a weight lifted from my shoulders. Then my spirit blackened as I pictured waking up alone, every single day. His tone confirmed a lifetime of lonely mornings. What a depressing start for our marriage.
My throat thickened.
None of this was what I wanted.
Tony seemed to hate it, too. He ripped off his suit jacket and threw it in the door’s