Imperfect Intentions (Beauty in Imperfection) - Page 24

Her eyes flare, their unique color glistening as she looks around the table before settling her gaze on me. If anyone wondered why Gus invited me for dinner, they’re not wondering any longer.

“Excuse me,” she says, her voice hoarse as she pushes her chair back.

Gia’s expression is pained as Violet gets to her feet and escapes through the French doors onto the veranda.

I cut Elliot a look that promises retribution, but I’m angrier with Gus for how he delivered the news.

When Gus lights the cigar, I excuse myself and follow Violet outside. She stands with her back to me, staring out over the garden to where the Monkey Puzzle trees are draped with fairy lights. In the far corner, a fake waterfall tumbles over artificial rocks into a lit pool.

I stop close to her, inhaling the sweet caramel scent of her skin. The arch of her neck beckons me to trace the line with a finger. Shoving my hands into my pockets lest I act on that urge, I say, “Tell me about these ambitions of yours.”

She spins around. “Is that why you kissed me? It was a strategic move? You’re hoping to marry your way into Gus’s business?”

“No.”

“I’m not a fool,” she hisses. “Don’t treat me like one.”

“I’d never mistake you for a fool.”

“Just for a whore?” she asks with a biting tone.

“Did I pay you for sex?”

“Did you want to?” she deadpans.

“Yes,” I admit. Because it’s a hell of a lot less complicated and conflictive. Because I want her, even now as her lush upper lip curls with disgust. I want her on more levels than what a simple marriage certificate defines.

“Fuck you,” she says, making to walk past me.

I catch her wrist. “You’re going to have dinner with me. Next Saturday night.” Leaning close, I press my lips against the shell of her ear. “We’re going to sit down, have a meal, share a few glasses of wine, and talk about this like adults.”

She yanks free from my hold. “No thanks.”

“I told you already. I’m not asking.”

“That sounds like an ultimatum.”

“If that’s how you choose to look at it. Whatever the case, that dinner is going to happen.”

“Or else?”

“Or else I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.” I’m not joking when I say, “I’ll tie you to the chair if I have to. Feeding you may be fun.”

Even though her head only reaches my shoulder, she looks down her nose at me before lifting her chin and walking back into the house like a queen I haven’t just checkmated.

CHAPTER 14

Violet

Leon Hart is the devil. My mom knows it. She knows it because he’s just like Gus. That’s why she didn’t tell me who was coming for dinner but only to put on a pretty dress. That’s why she didn’t tell me about Gus’s plan.

Going inside, I ignore the people sitting around the table and walk from the room. No one stops me because tears are streaming over my cheeks. Gus would rather hide me in my room than parade me around with mascara running black under my eyes. In his opinion, I’m damaged goods. He doesn’t want anyone to see me looking more imperfect than what I already am.

Gus’s cigar smoke and Leon’s deep voice follow me up the stairs. Trembling with anger, I slam my bedroom door behind me and turn the key. I lean against it and drag in a few, long breaths as tears of anger continue to drip down my chin.

It was so close. I almost made it to freedom. Just a few more years, and I would’ve had the money. Now I’m trapped, doomed to live my mother’s life. This is the price I’m paying for my legs. Grabbing the pillow from my bed, I push it over my face to muffle my scream, but it doesn’t change anything. I can scream until my voice is hoarse, and I still won’t feel better.

I drop the pillow, go to my desk, and take a sketchpad from my drawer. The strokes I drag over the page leave stark lines. I draw the same scene from last weekend, the one with the octopus constraining the naked woman. This time, I let the creature use all his legs, wrapping them around her wrists, ankles, neck, and waist. He uses the eighth one to penetrate her. That’s what men like Gus and Leon do to women. They fuck us over. We don’t get a choice.

When I acknowledge the truth, the world comes crashing down around me. The reality holds me down and strangles me until I feel like suffocating. My destiny flashes in front of my eyes. I see it clearly, navigating the same road with the same pitfalls as my mom.

Fuck.

I’m furiously blending the charcoal lines with a finger, rubbing darkness into the picture, when a knock falls on the door.

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Dark
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