As Ares turns his back on me without a word, my breath quickens, and I feel the flush of frustration heating my cheeks.
What is it about this man that is so freaking exasperating?
I clench my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to shout after him, to unleash all the pent-up anger and defiance swirling inside me. But deep down, I know it won’t make a difference right now.
His words echo in my mind, a stark reminder that this marriage isn't going to be easy. Perhaps I should try to escape? But what would happen to Kiara? I pace the room, my mind racing with thoughts of how to resist him, how to break free from this unwanted situation. But with each step, I realize I have finally found an opponent worthy of my defiance.
This isn't just a battle of wills.
It's a war.
This is just the beginning, and I know I will have to fight every step of the way. Because Ares Malone is not a person who will give up easily, and neither am I.
-
Mia's home.
10 years ago,
“Straighter. Straighter! Damn it, why did god give me such a useless child?” My mother gasps as she tries to make me bend to her personal etiquette class she's been obsessed with lately. “Just do what Kiara would do. It’s not hard, girl!” she spits at me.
“I'm straight, Mom. I swear, I'm trying,” I assure her, fighting the tears bubbling in my throat.
“Sssh. I don't want to hear you. Now, come on. One bite after the other and do not eat like a hungry animal. Manners, Mia, manners.” She points her finger in the air as she displays a plate of beef stew in front of me.
“Mom…you know I can't. It's…you know—” Sweat gathers in the low of my back just like each time I'm about to have a panic attack.
“Enough with this eating disorder nonsense! You're not sick, Mia. You're picky and difficult. Don't try to make yourself more important than you are. Do you think a man would care about this? So stop it and eat. We won't stop this lesson until you eat your meal,” she tells me, while tears fall on my cheeks. I don't know why I've got this…thing. I’m only thirteen and still, it has been poisoning my life for two years already and no matter how hard I try, it doesn't go away.
I can't eat this. I'm going to die. It's not…it's not…clean.
But my mother doesn't care.
So I eat and I cry until all I can think of is the lack of air.
Until I can’t see or hear anything.
Until I don't even feel alive.
“You've always been a disappointment,” she says before kissing my forehead and leaving me on our dining room floor.
Chapter 2
Ares
There’s a particular sensation when you’re about to enter the ring before a cage fight. I do them once every other month, when I need to assert power over my men. You have to sometimes, to remind them who’s in charge, and why. I fight fair, you either win or you die. The crowd usually goes quiet at the end when my blood pumps from my opponent's dead body.
I'm aware violence shouldn't leave me so unbothered, but I was born into this world. That's all I've ever known.
Before those fights, right when I'm about to step into the cage, the crowd going wild, a wall of sound hits me from all sides. All I hear is the white noise pumping in my ears. My heart's pounding, adrenaline surging through my veins, every muscle in my body tight as a damn spring. The lights are blinding, the air thick with sweat and blood. It’s that primal, gut-wrenching feeling, knowing you're about to unleash hell, but you have to hold back just enough to keep control.
Seeing Mia laughing and smiling with her cousins tonight hits me the same way.
My chest starts hammering, adrenaline kicking in hard. Every muscle tightens, ready to defend what’s mine. Even though they’re family, jealousy burns hotter than a lit match. They’re older than her, eyeing her like she's a piece of prime meat. Makes me want to put them on the mat, show them who she belongs to.
What really gets under my skin is seeing her laugh and smile like that. She's oblivious to the effect she has on me. Her red hair, creamy skin, fit body in that burgundy dress... It’s fucking with my head. She’s not doing it on purpose to piss meoff; she’s just being herself: feisty and confident, like a fucking queen.
“So, what do you think?” asks Vox, sipping his whiskey.
