“She will be your wife, which mean she will be yours to do with what you’d like,” he says, raising his glass to me. “Enjoy.”
I want to break him. I want to snap off one of the legs of his stool and run him through with it. That’s what he deserves. But I can’t. Not if I want this deal to remain intact. Not if I want Eve.
And do I want Eve?
The question alone sends a flood of anger through me. I thank Benedetto for his time and excuse myself.
I haven’t seen Luka since last night when he pinned me against the wall.
He’d done it before in my room, pushing me against the armoire, but the hallway felt different. Something in his eyes had shifted. Honestly, I thought he was going to kiss me. And I didn’t have the urge to vomit or punch him or run away. I’d just…stood there. Waiting.
The mem
