Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
You horrible bastard. I hope karma comes for you in the form of something really hairy and ugly and nasty. “You…you bait-and-switched me?” I sound like a total nincompoop.
“Not anything so drastic as that. It’s just that my brother is a bit of a recluse and has quite the undeserved scary reputation. If I had told you I needed a favor for him, that you’d be marrying a total stranger whom you’d never met before, and he was going to spirit you away to his corner of the world for the next six months, you hardly would have agreed, and I needed you to agree.”
I’m stunned. Furious. I can’t stop the garble that comes out. “I hope you choke on the next fry you eat, and it gets stuck in your throat, and a seagull comes along and tries to give you mouth-to-mouth. You’re a bastard!”
“And you’re a smart woman.” He just keeps smirking at me because he knows I’m powerless. I can’t walk out of here now. Not with their money already in my account. Something tells me I can’t just send it back, tear up the marriage paper, and call the whole thing off now. “I know all about your father’s debts and your family’s situation. I also know about your sister’s illness. I knew how desperate you were, and that’s why I chose you. I’m so sorry to have to deceive you, but honestly, my grandmother would be proud. I did tell you how she loved a good thriller and mystery as well as any romance, didn’t I?”
“You’re a heinous ass!” I try and stomp on his foot again and miss. Then, I try for the elbow and miss, too. Next, I try to tear the rings off my finger, but they’re just a fraction too small, and I’m soaked in sweat, my skin is overheated, and they’re stuck on like fucking glue. I can’t believe I saw this bastard as a white knight and that I ever fantasized about him saving me. I also can’t believe I thought all week about this crap. About maybe getting a happy ending and being so stupidly naïve and hopeful. “I hope your tiny little weenus rots and falls off, and the next freaking latte your new secretary gets you has spit in it!”
Bradford sighs like I’m boring him by taking up too much of his evening. “Curses? That’s no way to start a marriage off.”
Oh my god, earlier, did he say his brother was going to take me away somewhere? He did! Shit, he did say that. To his corner of the world. Where the bloody fuck would that be? “I’m not going with him! I’m not going to let this happen!”
“You married me off to a spitfire,” Bradford Darius Anderson the Second’s voice is deep and dark and as rich as he must be. But despite that, he sounds thoroughly unimpressed. Pissed off, actually. And a tad confused, maybe? Like he wasn’t fully in on this plan either.
I’m barely able to look at him because I can’t make my eyes focus. The world is spinning strangely, and acid is burning through my chest. I feel like I’m going to faint, but no, I absolutely can’t faint. I can’t pass out because then god knows what would happen to me. It’s the fear. I try to swallow it back so it can’t make me stupid. Or stupider. Stupider than I’ve already been. My legs are going to give out because I can’t feel my ass anymore. I should have trusted my instincts. Should have trusted my numb bum. Why didn’t I run when I still could?
“I’m very sorry about all this,” Bradford the Third, I mean Ass, croons, and I can tell he’s not one bit sorry. The world has no idea what a piece of shit this guy really is. I had no idea myself. But I’m going to tell everyone. Everyone is going to find out about this—about the scheming and the lying and the trickery. I’ll go straight to every magazine, newspaper, and online publication. They can have it for free. The world needs to know that this man isn’t who they think he is. He’s a predator who traps—
A strong set of hands grab me from behind, grasping my shoulders and face and maneuvering me away from Bradford, and honestly, I’m not that sorry to go, but I am terrified. I don’t even get to turn my head around again to see who has me, but it’s not Bradford Darius Anderson the Second because his black eyes are the last thing my gaze lands on before everything goes dark.
Chapter three
Darius
The last thing I wanted was to drug her, but I guess Hans could see she wasn’t going to go quietly, and he got a little trigger-happy.