MAX
FOUR WEEKS UNTIL THE WEDDING ...
The ticking of the clock echoed through the room, each second a slow, deliberate taunt. Half an hour. Half an hour I’d been waiting at this table, which did nothing but bring my simmering irritation to a boil.
Bianca sidled up beside me, a fresh pot of coffee in her hand. With a pour, she filled my cup. “Rough morning?” she wondered, flicking her gaze between me and the empty chair beside me.
“She’s being difficult.”
Bianca let a laugh bubble in her chest. “Give her time. I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.”
I grunted, lifting the cup to my lips. “Time? She’s had plenty of time. She’s got more opinions than sense, and she’s made it her mission to challenge every damn thing.”
Bianca just smirked. “Sounds like you’ve met your match.”
I didn’t bother to answer, just watched the steam rise from my coffee, my mind wandering back to the empty chair across from me. Thirty minutes late. Typical. Rosalie never did anything on anyone else’s terms. She was probably still fussing with her hair or picking out which ridiculous pair of heels to wear, knowing full well it would drive me up the wall.
“She’ll warm up to you.”
Yeah, right.
I wasn’t so sure. Rosalie flinched whenever I came near her, her eyes widening like a startled doe. It wasn’t hatred in her gaze but a cold, ingrained terror.
Her father, a man who carried grudges like heavy stones in his pockets, had filled her childhood with whispered nightmares. We were the villains in his bedtime stories. Generations of animosity, twisted truths passed down like family heirlooms, had painted a horrifying picture of us in her mind.
I couldn’t exactly fault her fear. It was a by-product of the brutal game we were playing. I’d done what I had to do in order to finally have what was mine, and I would do it again.
Rosalie knew the rules. She knew the consequences.
Why play with a monster if you were so utterly terrified?
A part of her had to be at least a little curious. I was going to grab onto that curiosity as if it were my lifeline. She would soon learn she was in good hands. I wanted her to meet my family and find out for herself, but I knew that would be too much all at once.
Even Bianca had said to give her time.
Unfortunately, time was my greatest enemy.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, my eyes settled on a familiar silhouette. There she was, stepping down the stairs with that dog of hers.
I swear, she cared more for him than she did for me. And here I was, jealous of a damn dog.
“Good morning,” she greeted, her voice as smooth and honeyed as her smile.
Not once had she shown respect for my time. This was the second time she’d shown up to our breakfast late.
I had never been a patient man. Never a forgiving one either. Yet I was trying to be both for her.
The woman could set me on fire and I’d thank her for lighting the match.
That didn’t mean I’d keep my mouth shut.
“Do you do that on purpose?” I finally managed to ask. I tried to keep the thumping in my chest to a minimum, but that proved nearly impossible.
“Do what on purpose?” she asked as she took a seat next to me, her voice innocent, as if she had no idea of the effect she had on me.
“Torment me.”
She met my gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yes,” she admitted. “It has its perks, remember?”
