“Why?” I choke out, wary of moving.
He looks like he’s possessed, his eyes wide and unblinking. I slowly raise my hands to further let him know how much I don’t want to fight him. Especially not about whatever he got in his head.
“The hit was on you,” he snaps, and the razor-thin edge of the knife presses that bit closer to my throat. The man doing this to me isn’t the Corvus I know. My fiancé controls his emotions far too well, he doesn’t sweat for no reason, he thinks first and acts second.
Why is this happening?
I swallow, all too close to the blade. “Corvus. You don’t want to do this. Why on earth would the hit be on me? Think about it. I’m a nobody. Maybe the guy wanted to save his skin. Told you I was the target instead of you, hoping for mercy.”
But I’d be lying if I said this is fine in any capacity. He’s not just holding a knife to my neck. He’s twisting it into my heart, because what is this? Who does this kind of thing to the person they love?
Breath hisses deep in Corvus’s throat, and the grip he had on the front of my T-shirt tightens as his blue eyes cool until they’re shards of ice holding no affection for me at all.
“You lie,” he growls in a voice reminiscent of ripping cloth. “Is this a setup? Are you a honeypot?”
I stare at him in disbelief, guts churning. He… didn’t believe me tonight, when I told him I love him? I hardly expected to hear it back, but this is crushing my heart. I can’t look into his eyes anymore.
I’m getting hot and cold at the same time as my mind twists in attempts to save what we have. I want him so badly it hurts, but how can I let him do this to me?
Since I can’t find the words to express the jumble of emotions clogging my chest, he speaks again.
“If you’re being blackmailed to—”
I spread my arms in frustration, and I don’t care that the knife cuts into my skin. The pain is nothing in comparison to the way my whole being aches at what I know is true.
He doesn’t trust me.
Fuck that. And fuck him.
“What the fuck are you talking about? We’re getting married next week! If someone’s trying to kill me, as you claim, we should be working on that together!”
Corvus steps back, squeezing the handle of his knife tight. He looks feverish, burnt by whatever sick fantasy brought all this on. “We’re getting married because Aspen filmed us fucking, and I chose to pay for your life. So don’t pretend this is some grand love story!”
I should have known better than to fall for the Van der Horn torturer. What was I thinking? That I could make him grow feelings forme through the ‘power of love’? Even if we did have real fun at times, he’s iterated what the situation is time and time again. I wouldn’t listen because I’m stubborn and deluded. I guess I just wanted it enough to hope it would manifest.
I always fall too hard, too fast.
Corvus wanted me for sex and comfort. Anything we shared in this home on top of that was convenience.
I rub my face, because I’m so, so tired, and I will not allow myself to cry in front of him. “I’ll pay you off then. We’re not getting married.”
“We definitely are,” Corvus says stubbornly, as if he hasn’t just declared that he doesn’t have any feelings for me. Or even trust.
Once again, I’m a good lay. A convenient outlet. A bit of fun.
Nobody wants anything from me beyond that.
I will not spend my life in a loveless marriage.
I step closer to him, until the knife touches my stomach. “Or what? You don’t love me, and you don’t even trust me. Go on. End it here. Solve your problem.” I meet his eyes without mercy. I’m done playing stupid games.
His blue eyes regain some of their usual warmth, and he steps back, throwing the knife away, as if it’s burned him. He’s panting as though he’s been running for the last half an hour. “I just want to know the truth…”
I shake my head. “The truth is that you’ll just assume I’m lying no matter what I say! I don’t know what fucked-up idea you got in your head, but I’m not taking part in any of this. You can’t make me. You really think I’m just some pushover you can use for dick? Fuck you! And since the target’s onmyback, I can leave without worrying about you, because yes,Ido have a heart.” I circle the kitchen island so I don’thave to pass close to him. If he touches me now, it will leave permanent scars. I was so fucking happy to be a part of his life, but ifthisis how he sees our future together, I’m out. I’m done asking for scraps. “And I’ll pay you off if it’s the last thing I do,” I add with my brain pulsing in my skull. I need to leave this fucking snake pit before the floodgates open, and I embarrass myself by breaking down in front of him.
Corvus rubs his face, acting as if I’m the one who created a scene. “We’re both tired. Let’s discuss it in the morning.”
“No fucking way!” I yell at him from the corridor. I could havemaybeexcused this if he was drunk, but he’s done and said all of that to me sober and sure of himself. How many times is he supposed to tell me he bought me until I believe him? I can’t keep making excuses for him. “You…” I take a deep breath so my voice doesn’t tremble. “You’re a fucking bastard, you know that? Go deal with the body in your basement since you believed that stranger more than you ever trusted me!”
