The Marriage Debt: Chapter 19

I don’t even say goodbye to my family or tell anyone where I’m going before I march out the front door. What am I supposed to tell them? I don’t even know where I’m going. I just needed to get away from there. Away from the situation. Away from … him.

Because that boy in there manages to burn down every inch of self-worth I have left.

Nothing matters to him.

Not my feelings, not my wishes, not even my dignity.

Right in front of my own damn family … and I let him.

I shake my head and continue walking, despite the cold.

I should’ve known better than to let him seduce me into doing it again myself.

Oh my God, just the thought of my fingers on my pussy felt so wrong, yet I did it anyway … because he told me to. Because he was there, watching me, jerking off, and something in me … snapped.

It’s like all lights went off and all that was left was the lust between us.

Fuck.

It was so wrong.

But what else was I supposed to do?

Why does he have to make it so hard on me to be his wife?

Every time he touches me, it sends off fireworks in my body, but the second I start to even enjoy it, he ruins everything.

I can’t let go like that anymore. I can’t let him … get close. Even if he is my husband, and I have to abide by his every whim.

But every time I give in to his demands, he still manages to creep closer and closer to the one thing I promised myself I would never give to him.

No. I have to stop.

“Where do you think you’re going?” someone suddenly says.

A few feet away from me, a man in a suit casually taps his feet on the ground.

Panic swirls in my veins. “Who are you?”

“Who do you think?” he responds.

Luca’s guard, probably. Fuck. They really are everywhere.

No wonder he casually let me stroll out of the restaurant. He knew I couldn’t go anywhere without bumping into one of his men. Even when I think I’m free for a moment, I’m still trapped.

“Go back inside,” the man growls.

“I’d rather die,” I spit.

I hear the familiar click of a gun as he fishes something out of his suit. “I can arrange that if you don’t do what I tell you,” the man says.

A shiver rolls over my spine.

“Don’t even think about it,” a dark voice behind me barks.

Luca’s familiar face springs out in the streetlight illuminating the road as he walks closer and places a hand on my shoulder. Cold to the touch. Frigid enough to make me tense up.

“I’ll take care of her,” he says. “Call the driver. Get him to pick us up.”

“Yes, sir,” the man replies, and he quickly tucks away his gun.

“And go back inside and guard my family,” Luca tells him.

“Of course, sir.” The man nods and quickly walks past us, back to the restaurant doors that I so gratefully left behind.

But I should’ve known better than to ever think I could escape this mafia world. But most of all … Luca fucking De Vos, my fucking husband.

“What are you doing out here?” Luca asks.

“What does it look like?” I sneer, full of resentment.

He clutches my wrist. “Stop playing coy.”

“Why can’t you just let me take a breather?” I mutter.

“You know why,” he replies.

I jerk my wrist out of his grip. “You don’t even trust me.”

“Do you think I can?”

I don’t even have to look at him to know he’s raising a brow at me.

“Never mind,” I retort, and I push away from him, determined to continue walking even though he follows my every footstep.

“What are you going to do? Ignore me?” he asks.

“If it helps,” I quip.

He snorts. “You know you can’t get rid of me.”

“Maybe if I wish for it hard enough, it’ll magically happen.”

“Wow,” he scoffs. “You sure are good at lying to yourself about what you really want.”

I keep my head high as I walk through the dark of night. “I do.”

“Sure. Or maybe you just hate the fact that you loved moaning for me.”

I spin on my heels and point at him. “Don’t.”

“Why?” He tilts his head. “Too much truth for you?”

I step closer and push my finger into his chest. “Stop it. Stop trying to change the narrative.”

“I’m not doing anything.” He grabs my finger. “Why do you try to hate me so much?”

“I’m not trying,” I hiss back.

“Yes, you are.” Suddenly, he reaches for my face, and he caresses me so gently I’m caught off guard … and my entire face heats.

He smirks. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re thinking about what we did in the bathroom?” he muses.

“No,” I say, but the heat only spreads further and further until I feel it everywhere, just like when I touched myself.

Oh, God. I’m so embarrassed we did that in a public bathroom with our family sitting outside at the table mere feet away. They could probably hear everything.

“You’re constantly telling yourself you shouldn’t like me,” he says.

“I’m telling myself you’re insufferable for making me do all of that,” I retort. “And in front of our family too.”

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “So what if they did? I want them to hear. You’re my fucking wife, and I’ll please you any goddamn way I want.”

Fuck me, I’d almost say that was hot … if it didn’t come from the one person I should hate more than anything.

“You’re using me as a toy. Like something you can show off,” I spit. “I’m a human being, Luca. I have feelings.”

“And you think I don’t?” he quips, nostrils flaring.

For a moment, I stare at him in silence. “What—?”

Suddenly, he grips both my arms and forces me to look at him. “After I gave you the best orgasm you could ever have, you compare me to my fucking brother.”

Best orgasm? What an ego.

“Your brother was a better version of you.”

The fire in his eyes rages on, and it feeds my soul. Maybe it’s because I’m vicious, or maybe, just maybe, I want him to hurt the way I’ve been hurt.

He stares me down for a moment, letting my words sink in. “My brother was a coward who wanted to run away from responsibility. He didn’t even want you.”

I’d be lying if I said that didn’t hurt me. “At least he would’ve treated me better than you are.”

He stares at me for a moment, my own hurt reflected in his eyes as though he’s made it his.

“I’m done fucking talking about my brother.”

He’s done talking, but he won’t ever be done punishing me.

He grabs my arm and drags me along. He stops in the middle of the street as a car comes riding down the lane. It comes to a halt right next to us, missing my body by a hair, and Luca opens the door.

“Get in,” Luca growls.

I ignore him and go straight for the jugular. “You’re angry with Liam because he stole a kiss from me, aren’t you? And you’re taking it out on me.”

“I’m not angry with him,” he spits. “I’m angry with you.”

Tears well up in my eyes. “Why?”

“Did you forget you killed him?”

“So all of this … all that dirty stuff you do … it’s all just to punish me for killing him?” Liar. “And you wonder why I ran away from you and your family all those years ago.”

His eyes almost shoot fire. “Get. In.”

I do what he asks, but not without a protesting glare. I know how he feels about me. He hates my guts, but the feeling is mutual. I wish I could stop longing for a better life. One where I wouldn’t have to hate the man who put a ring on my finger and made me his.

To him, I am nothing but an object to own.

A prize taken from the battlefield.

And he’s the victor reigning over the blood and bones of his own damn family.

When he gets inside the car and shuts the door, nothing but silence is left.

But I’ve spoken all the words I wanted to say. It all means … nothing.

Nothing to him or his ice-cold heart.

And I have to stop letting him into mine.