Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I whirl around to find Arsen glaring at me like somehow, I’m the one in the wrong here.
“I am absolutely god damn not going to marry you,” I yell.
His lip twitches and he lowers his chin. “Yes, you are.”
“Like fucking hell I am. Are you crazy? We don’t know each other. I watched you kill a guy!”
“All the more reason,” he says, smirking now.
Fucking hell. The blood drains from my face. “Are you forcing me to marry you right now? Are you threatening me? That’s freaking… that’s blackmail.”
He’s grinning huge like this is some amusing joke. “I’m offering you a choice. That’s all.”
“Some fucking choice. Marry me or die.” I do my best impression of his deep voice. It comes across a bit mocking, which is the point. “What is wrong with you?”
He shakes his head, laughing softly. “God, I didn’t think anything could make me smile tonight. You managed it anyway.”
“Great, glad you think I’m fucking cute when I’m freaking out.”
“You are cute. Beautiful too.”
“Stop it.”
“I love your eyes. Big and expressive. And that little stupid nose stud. Makes you look bolder than you are. And that hair—”
“I’m going to find the ring and shove it down your throat if you don’t stop right now.”
“—That hair is perfect. Thick and reddish brown and feels silky in my fist when I grab it.”
A thrill runs between my legs. “Stop it,” I whisper, licking my lips.
“Your annoying and bold personality. Your insane curiosity. The way it feels when I sink myself between your legs. The way your skin flushes red when you come.”
“I’m not going to marry you just because you’re saying nice things. Although I don’t know if that last one is nice exactly.”
He steps closer. His smile is fading now into something more serious. “Here’s my offer. Put on the dress. Wear the ring. Become my wife tonight. And I’ll make sure your family never wants for anything ever again.”
I open my mouth to tell him to fuck right the hell off—but stop myself.
Your family never wants for anything.
Life hasn’t been easy for Mom and Dad. Even before she got sick, Mom worked a string of shitty jobs to keep a roof over our heads. Dad was the same way, always working hard, and now he’s doing twice as much and physically falling apart to make it happen, all to do what’s best for the family. Like I’ve been doing with the club job. Like Mom’s doing in her own way, taking care of the laundry, cooking meals, straightening up when she’s got the strength.
I can make their problems disappear.
Mom can have comfort. She’ll never have to stress about money again. If these are her last days, they can be good last days. They could travel. They could order out. An entire world of decent suddenly might open up for her.
And there’s Dad. He could quit his job. No more wrecking his back and his knees. No more suffering. He could spend the last days he’s got with the love of his life and take care of her the way he wishes he could. Right there, by her side, without money breathing down their necks.
Also Vadim. But fuck that lazy dick.
I could do that for them. Right here and now. All I have to do is wear a dress, say some stupid words, and slip a ring on my finger.
“Can you really do that?” I say, choking on the words. Bile fills my throat and burns my tongue.
“They will never have to work another day in their lives if that’s what you want. I’ll buy them a new house, pay for full-time care for your mother, and give them a generous stipend. I can afford that and much more, little thief.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I hate him for doing this to me. “How am I supposed to believe you?”
“I just bought you a sixty-thousand-dollar dress and a half-million dollar ring at two in the morning. You can believe me.”
My jaw drops open and I stare at the dress again. Suddenly, throwing the ring seems like a really, really bad idea.
“What’s the other option?” I say, squeaking it out.
“I drag you to a clinic in the morning and you have an abortion. I’ll pay for your medical care and make sure you’re comfortable, but you’ll never see me again, and if anyone ever finds out what we did together, your life will be in danger. That’s not a threat, just a fact.”
I slump back into the bed. I’m so exhausted I could curl up into a ball and sleep right here and now. My knee jostles and jitters, and I put my face in my hands. “Some choice,” I say into my fingers.
“I know.”
“I’m screwed either way.”
“I know.”
“How long do I have to decide?”
“Tigran’s on his way now. I’d say about twenty minutes.”