Vlad
I push Alessia into the passenger seat of the car. “Don’t run. Don’t f*****g open this door. Do not test my temper.”
Looks like she’s back to being my prisoner.
I won’t pretend I won’t love stripping her bare and tying her up. I won’t pretend I won’t love having her at my mercy.
But this is a huge f*****g setback as far as our relationship goes.
And I can’t believe I’m even thinking that word. We don’t have a f*****g relationship. She’s my prisoner. She may be my wife, but it wasn’t by choice. I know that. I need to stop pretending any different.
“You had your insulin with you?” I demand. I already know the answer. She has jack s**t on her, and that’s what really upsets me.
What if the police hadn’t been driving by? What if she’d been out here for hours? I’ve already seen how b
