Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
What the hell have I done?
7
AVA
“Don’t touch it!”
I swat Sam’s destructive hand away before she murders my beautiful dahlias more coldly than her favorite master would.
“Then you should do it properly.” She gives me her usual blank expression that I’m sure means murder in at least one language, then sits on the vintage recliner in the greenhouse, nestling a crochet yarn on her lap.
“I am doing it properly.” I cut the stem and carefully bury it in the pot, then cover it with the soil we ordered.
“Those flowers will die within the week. Maybe you should leave it to the professionals.”
“Stop being a buzzkill. Why are you here if you disapprove of everything I do?” I hike my gloved hand on my hip. Everything is pink—my gloves, wellies, and cute little off-the-shoulder Armani dress.
“I have nothing to do.”
“Pish posh. You’ve been following me around for days, Sam.”
She crochets with the precision of a surgeon, and considering how awfully mysterious she is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was one in a previous life.
All I know about Sam is that she’s been with the King household longer than I’ve been alive, and although she has Asian features, she has no Asian name, accent, or given any indication of her heritage. She certainly doesn’t offer up the information. I’ve heard her give different answers to different people depending on the occasion. Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and Filipino all came into the conversation.
I nudge her foot with my cute boot. “I’m talking to you. Is Eli ordering you to babysit me or something?”
“Or something.”
I narrow my eyes. “If that piece of shit thinks he’s my warden, I will—”
I cut myself off because she glares up at me at the audacity of me badmouthing her lord and master. Besides, I’m so livid, I have no idea how to finish the sentence.
If I had any misconceptions about this marriage before, then it’s long forgotten. Or, more accurately, confirmed.
The day after I got here, Eli took me to meet my new therapist, a serious woman named Dr. Blaine. Apparently, my doctor was changed and something tells me it was all his doing. When I asked about my previous psychiatrist, Dr. Wright, Henderson said he’s out of the country.
I didn’t probe further, mainly because I was embarrassed. It’s one thing for Eli to get a whiff of my mental state, but it’s entirely different for him to supervise it.
Due to my psychosis and constant mental breakdowns and fugue episodes, I’m legally required to have a guardian who’ll be able to supervise and stamp-approve any major decisions, including, but not limited to, opening a bank account, having access to funds, and any administrative processes.
And while that part has always bothered me, Papa never made me feel like he was my owner, and he gave me more freedom than most patients like me could dream of. In fact, he was accommodating and never stepped on my toes, partly because my parents aimed to give me as much of a normal life as possible.
But the truth is, I’m not normal.
And finding out that Eli, of all people, knows that in full detail and has complete control over approving my treatment programs left me in a foul mood.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to face him, considering he completely ignored me for an entire week afterward. His driver took me to a previously approved session with my therapist, to visit my parents—who keep insisting I go back to live with them but I refused, hang out with Cecily, and pay a visit to his parents.
Let’s say I’d rather live with his mum and dad than with him.
Aunt Elsa spoiled me shitless, had the cook make all the desserts I love, and made me feel as if nothing has changed despite missing a two-year chunk from my life. Uncle Aiden told me in gloating detail how he won a one-million-dollar bet against Papa and also how he’s my and Eli’s number one supporter for no other reason than to piss Papa off.
Honestly, I stay out of whatever bad blood my papa and my father-in-law have. I’m just glad Mama and my mother-in-law get along. In fact, the three of us and Ari had a spa day yesterday and we spent it pampering ourselves and talking about everything and nothing.
I was relaxed and content for the first time since the amnesia hit, but that was only until I came back home and was faced with Eli’s closed office door and his incessant avoidance and religious disregard as if I were the plague.
The only time he looks at me is to shake his head like I’m a liability he’s stuck with.
Well, no one held a gun to his head and forced him to marry me. Besides, he’s the one who needs me, probably to polish his rogue image.