How is he Julian’s son?They look similar, but their personalities couldn’t be more different.
“I’m glad you think so. I have plans for us tonight, Tash.”
Fuck.This doesn’t bode well for me at all.
Sobriety only lasted halfwayinto dinner before the fourth glass of wine caught up with him.
Elliott takes a bite of his steak, and then he leans over to act like he’s my lover, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
Gross.
“Your tits are fuckingamazingin that dress.”
I sigh and take a sip of water. “Thanks.”
“After this, we’re going to Rapture.”
No.
“Oh, I don’t?—”
“We’re going,” he says, his voice harder now, and he narrows his eyes, practically daring me to argue.
I’ve already been beaten twice in the past twenty-four hours. I’d rather avoid a third time. I don’t think my ribs can take it. I’m so damn sore, now that my meds are wearing off, and I realize that I forgot to put some in my handbag.
“You’ll like it.” His voice is calmer now, and he smirks as he sips his wine. “And don’t worry, there will be other girls there to show you the ropes.”
“Uh, what?”
“You’ll see.” He winks at me, and my stomach sinks to my toes.
I hurt everywhere, and I’mnotin the mood to have to fight off Elliott’s advances tonight, least of all at a sex club in front of strangers. I don’t care how fancy it is, I don’t want to go.
Dinner passes too quickly, and then we’re back at his car, and he shouldnotbe driving after all the wine he consumed with his meal.
“Do you want me to drive?” I ask, and I immediately realize that I said the wrong thing when he rounds on me and cages me against the side of the vehicle.
“What are you saying, Tash?”
I swallow hard, tying to keep my face expressionless. “I just haven’t had anything to drink, that’s all.”
“Get. In. The motherfucking car.”
He pushes away from me, and I do as I’m told, even though I know that this is absolutelynot safe. I spend the entire twenty-minute trip fighting off a panic attack as Elliott weaves through the lanes, cutting off other drivers and laughing like a lunatic because I’m scared.
I hate how much he loves to frighten me.
“You need to lighten up, babe,” he says when he parks in front of the valet, and I immediately get out of the car, ignoring the way my ribs are singing. My jaw aches. My eye socket throbs.
Fuck, I hurt.
“Come on.” He takes my hand and drags me through the front doors where there’s a reception area. “Hey, Beth.”
The tiniest woman I’ve ever seen gives Elliott a cautious smile. “Hello, Mr. Stavros. Is this your guest tonight?”
“My fiancé,” he confirms. “Natasha.”
“Welcome to Rapture,” Beth says with a genuine smile for me. “If you have any questions?—”
