Chapter 40: : Chapter 40

“Act like you like me,” he says as he drives us to fuck knows where. Sometimes, I think he keeps our destinations a surprise because if I had the knowledge of the location, I might be tempted to find the fastest exit route.

I showered and really took my time, intentionally pissing him off. But I eventually joined, him considering my bank account looks really nice right about now, and it’s the least I can do as the fiancée of a future mafia boss. Vomit.

I just wanted him to leave my apartment, and I knew that wasn’t going to happen unless I did as well.

“Why?” I ask as the car comes to a stop.

“Because it’s our engagement party.” He gets out of the car without another word.

I’m frozen in my seat. What the actual fuck?

This motherfucker.

No wonder he was rewarding me before he got me in the car.

He fucking set me up because he knew the family dinner was the most I could do.

But an engagement party? Get fucked.

I’m dressed way too casually for this while he’s wearing a black suit. I mean, I’m used to him dressing above and beyond—no one is denying this man has style—but I have fucking jeans on, for fuck’s sake.

“I’m not going,” I state, looking at the fancy hotel he has every intention of dragging me through like some broodmare. I know it’s fancy because it has a fucking doorman.

“Why not?” he asks.

“I’m wearing jeans,” I snap, aggravated. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me we were coming to this?”

“You don’t really care that you’re wearing jeans, though. You don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks.” He smiles arrogantly. “Besides, Kitten, do you really think I came unprepared? As you once said, you’re just along for the ride, right? So, do as you’re told.”

I’m in absolute shock. Sometimes I think this asshole might have at least one nice bone in his body, and then it’s like he resets to default within the span of seconds.

“You’re just saying that so I get out of the car,” I grumble, already in a foul mood from being hungover. He walks around to the back of the car and opens the trunk.

A valet waits for Eli to hand him the keys, and I pout in the front seat like a fucking child. I am not getting out of this car looking like this. It’s true I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about me, but I need mental preparation for this fiancée bullshit. And besides, I don’t like being in the spotlight. I don’t want all the questions about how we met and why we love each other because, truth be told, they’d wish they never asked.

Eli comes back to stand in front of my door and unzips a black garment bag, revealing a dress, as well as a shoebox.

“Will this do?” he asks triumphantly. I stare at the green dress and expensive pair of heels with red bottoms, willing them to burst into flames.

“You just store women’s outfits in your trunk now?”

“No, I asked the lady who fitted you yesterday for a dress for tonight because, by the time you were on your second glass of champagne, I knew you wouldn’t remember about today. You were actually the one who said you were a fan of green.”

I vaguely remember that discussion. Fuck.

“And what, you didn’t think to let me put this on in my apartment like a normal fucking person?”

“You are anything but normal, Kitten. If I had, you would’ve climbed outside your bedroom window and run. I would’ve spent the majority of the afternoon searching for you. But now you’re right where you need to be.”

“Fucking asshole,” I hiss as I reach for the dress through the window. He seems rather smug, which pisses me off even more. I climb into the back seat and peel off my shirt. I pull the dress on, and when it’s covering my top half, I shimmy my jeans down and then kick my shoes off. With a heavy sigh, I hold out my hand for the shoes. He opens the back door and hands me the heels so I can slide them on. I ignore his outstretched hand, exiting the car on my own, and stand beside him, studying myself through the side mirror. I touch up my hair, removing the braids he put in last night. My hair falls into waves, and I comb through it with my fingers, making myself as presentable as possible.

“Shouldn’t you be paying some fancy makeup artist to do my hair and makeup?” I grudgingly say under my breath.

“I suggested that yesterday, too, and you told me to mind my own fucking business.” His upbeat tone grates on my nerves.

Sounds like something I’d say.

Once I’ve finished checking myself out, I snap on him. “What?” I ask, running my hands down my dress.

“Nothing.” He grins, then adds, “But I have one more gift for you.” He pulls out a black box and opens it. My eyes go wide, and I snatch it greedily from his hands. It’s beautiful.

It’s a small blade with diamonds scattered throughout the hilt and a thin leather garter to hold it in place on my thigh.

“I figured your outfit wouldn’t be complete without a hidden weapon. And, selfishly, I think it’s sexy when you have a knife on you.”

I smile as I prop my heel on the car’s bumper and strap on the blade under my dress. It fits perfectly. Unfortunately, this dress doesn’t have a slit, so it’s not as easily accessible, but having it there makes me feel secure and powerful.

“Do you like it?” he asks as I adjust my dress.

I smirk at him over my shoulder. “How do you know I won’t use it on you tonight?”

“I’m hoping you do.” He winks, and a barrage of memories flood me, thinking of him fucking me like a crazed animal while I carved lines down his back. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks as he chuckles and steps into my space. “Let me know if you want a momentary truce in a nearby closet.”

I bite my bottom lip, wishing we could forget about all of this and I could just straddle him in the back seat of his car right now.

His hand comes to my lower back, and this time I don’t flinch. I blame the hangover. He passes the keys to the valet, who is watching us with amusement before we walk inside. We go straight to the top floor, the elevator opening onto a rooftop. I recognize a few faces, but with others I’m not so familiar. I grit my teeth, preparing myself for the onslaught of attention and questions.

He moves his hand from my lower back to grip mine, where it is clenched at my side. He grips it tighter before I can pull away as if he knows my moves already.

How I wish that weren’t true.

I turn to look at him. I’ve seen him kill people with these hands. Hell, he’s almost choked me out plenty of times with their strength. And yet, here he is, displaying unity when these hands have only ever known murder.

“Michelle.” I turn at the sound of her name and see the woman he used to fuck staring at me from across the roof. And if looks could kill, she might have a fair shot of putting me six feet deep, like she so obviously wants to.

Well, this night just got more interesting. But what would be more interesting? My bed. When I’m sleeping.