“When did you buy this?”
He shakes his head. “This belonged to my mother before she passed away. Now it’s our home.”
This will never be my home, but I keep the thought to myself. It doesn’t do me any good to argue with a lunatic.
I glance around the living room. Antique-colored furniture sits in the middle near the brick-style fireplace.
“Irvin, I don’t want to live here. Take me back to my condo.”
He grips my chin. “No, princess. You’re mine, and you’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives.”
My vision blurs with tears. Realization hits me like a ton of bricks—there is no hope for this marriage, and there isn’t anyone to help me. I’m forever stuck with this lunatic.
Lilac
I’m glad today is Saturday, so I decide to explore my gilded cage. Each room is different and… beautiful. Irvin’s mother had taste. Antique furniture is trapped within these mahogany walls. The maids, dressed in red uniforms, clean the rooms. Sunlight spills through the heavy drapes. I swallow thickly. Sometimes, I can’t breathe in here—to the point that I need to step outside for fresh air.
I look at the paintings of people on the wall. Their eyes follow me as I creep to the library. I search the shelves. Might as well read to keep my mind off my horrible life.
My heart melts a little when I pick up a psychological thriller from a shelf. I scan the rest of the titles. Did this lunatic really give me my own library? It’s stocked with psychological thrillers, paranormal romance, and horror. All of these books are from my Amazon Wish List. What the fuck?
My throat tightens. Goosebumps pop up on my skin like a rash.
It’s beautiful—every girl’s dream. Like I said, on campus and in public, we act like the cute couple, but I’m going to escape this cage.
The library is cozy, filled with warmth as I light the gigantic masonry fireplace, giving me the illusion that it’s safe in here—just like Irvin made me feel safe before he tricked me into marriage.
I yank a domestic psychological thriller from the shelf next and settle into the recliner. Maybe I can learn how to frame my husband for a murder he didn’t commit so I can finally get away from him. No, I don’t have the heart to kill someone, let alone frame someone else for something they didn’t do. But I’m going to stick to the plan and manipulate my husband.
I read the book, and before I know it, I doze off. When my eyes snap open, the moon is peeking through the windows.
I stretch out my legs, and my phone buzzes with a message. I grab it from my pocket. It’s from Winter.
Winter: How did it go with Irvin? I stopped by your condo, and it was empty.
Me: He moved me to this haunted-looking mansion, and I’m not okay.
Winter: Do you want to come over? Some company?
Me: No. I just need to be alone for a little bit.
Winter: Okay, I understand. Next week we’re going shopping for our dresses. Keanu’s parents want to move up the wedding.
Me: Okay. Give me the time and date, and I’ll be there.
Irvin strolls into the library, leaning against the doorway arch, hands in his pockets. His tattoos etched into his face shineagainst the flames of the fireplace, and the dark Brioni suit he wears hugs his muscular body. His jade eyes devour me like I’m on his menu. His presence dominates the room, overpowering me. I linger on the wordsadinked under his eye—what does it mean?
I hate how attractive he is, how his silver hair contrasts against the gloomy room. He looks like an actual god—untouchable and powerful.
“How do you like your library?”
I don’t want to seem overzealous about it—though I actually love it. Instead, I shrug and get up from the recliner.
“I hate it. It’s too gloomy and ugly,” I lie.
Each step he takes toward me leaves an impression on the floor, matching my heartbeat. His long finger strokes my warm cheek. I try not to exhale. Knots form in the pit of my stomach.
“Is that so?”
