I pour myself another cup of coffee to act as my breakfast because I’m too damned scared to touch anything. I’m usually the type to add various syrups and creamers, but from the look of it, that’s not an option. So today, I’ll take my coffee black, like Ronan’s soul.
Picking up my steaming mug, I carry it over to the huge set of French doors at the far side of the kitchen.
Outside, the garden stretches endlessly in every direction, and it’s lined with ancient oaks and rose bushes that have been pruned to… perfection.
Holy shit. Perfection is pretty much the word of the day, in terms of this ridiculously perfect house.
Even the pool is pristine, with an outside pool house that looks to be bigger than my own family’s estate.
As I sip on my coffee, I wince at the bitterness. Somehow, Ronan has managed to ruin my favorite morning ritual, as well as the rest of my life.
As I stand looking out over the gardens, my thoughts drift to my father’s study.
He used to sit at his desk in his cracked leather chair, chain smoking as he bent his head over the account books. Sometimes, he’d take his work to the TV room just so he could periodically yell at a football game as he worked, leaving a trail of ash and empty whiskey glasses behind him, but I never minded because it all reminded me of him.
Our house might have been falling apart toward the end, but it was warm and full of love. This house, on the other hand, is nothing but a trophy, a reminder of who came out on top.
I bite the inside of my cheek as my throat thickens. I’m not sure how I’m meant to ever get used to living here when everything serves as a reminder of what I’ve lost.
I retreat upstairs to my room and perch on the window seat, which looks out over the gardens.
Even though my things from home barely take up a quarter of the closet space, this room still feels like it belongs to me rather thanhim.
Is this how my life is meant to be from now on? Sitting around in this enormous mansion, drinking coffee and waiting for Ronan to come home?
God, I hope not, because it’s only been ten minutes, and I’m already bored out of my mind.
I grab an old paperback and attempt to read by the window, hoping to lose myself in a fictional world for an hour or two. But the words blur together, and I can’t seem to focus long enough to pay attention to what is going on.
After re-reading the same page for the third time, I slam the book shut and toss it on the floor, frustrated because all my brain wants to think about is last night.
I can’t believe I let myself get close enough to kiss Ronan, let alone have his face between my thighs.
My cheeks burn at the memory, not just from embarrassment but from how willingly I let him consume me.
If he hadn't stopped when he did, I would have let him do anything he wanted with me.
And that scares the shit out of me.
I let myself become consumed by my hatred because I thought it would protect me. But instead, all it did was make me take off my clothes and hand over my control on a silver platter.
That wasnotpart of the plan.
Ronan Sullivan is arrogant and dangerous. He destroys lives and walks away with clean hands, yet I let him put his tongue inside me like he owns me.
He’s the reason my family lost everything, that I lost myfather. What kind of daughter would that make me if I jumped into bed with Ronan the first chance I could?
I look down at the thin gold band on my ring finger, and my throat burns. I need to get a grip, otherwise I won’t survive this marriage.
Ronan might want me to be a housewife, but I need to use my brain, otherwise I’ll lose my mind. Not only that, but a routine will be good for me, if only to keep my mind busy long enough to stop me from thinking about his head between my thighs.
I used to do the accounts for my father, balancing the books as well as keeping track of our assets. It wasn’t exactly glamorous work, but it mattered, and I felt like I was making a difference. It allowed me to put my IT and cybersecurity degree to good work, and while it wasn’t my dream career, I’m decent with computers, and this was a way for me to contribute to the family business. I liked that I could help keep us safe, just like my father had done for so many years.
Maybe I could do something similar for Ronan…
If I gained enough of his trust, he might allow me to help him with the business side of things. After all, I'm officially a Sullivan on paper, so it would be in my best interest to help my new family. If I play the part of the doting wife, he might be willing to give me access to the accounts.
It might be a long shot, but if I had access to his finances, there’s no doubt I could uncover something I could use against him to get out of this marriage because Ronan isn’t just going to let me go quietly. The man plays a dirty game, but that’s fine with me.
