Ruthless Monarch

I place her objects on the table beside her. Her hand reaches out and grabs her phone, but still, her movements are slower than usual. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“And I’m allowed to use it?”

“Why else would I give it to you . . .” I lead.

“To use a GPS tracker to see where I’m going.” She smiles at me, a sugary sweet smile, one I want to wipe off her face and kiss her at the same time.

“There’s no need to do that.”

Her lips pull back into a flat line.

“How come?” she asks, voice tight again.

“Because now that you’re married to me, you will go everywhere with one of my men.”

“I don’t really need a bodyguard.”

“Unfortunately, we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that fact. You do, in fact, need one. Period. I’m a very powerful man, and I have many enemies. And the moment you married me . . . they became your enemies too.”

“Well, that hardly seems fair.”

“Princess, haven’t you learned yet?” I tsk.

“So, from now on, what you’re saying is that someone will be following me?”

“Yes.”

“Life might have been better under my father’s thumb,” she mumbles under her breath.

“Yes, if you want it to be sold to a man who would have no qualms about raping you.”

Her eyes go wide as her face pales, and I realized I took this a step too far. This is not a page in the Seduction 101 handbook.

Moving a step closer, I crowd her. This time when I look down at her, I can see there are small flecks of color in her irises.

Little gold flecks.

Too bad she’s a traitor. Fucking her often wouldn’t be a chore. Now to just get my head out of my ass and do what I need to do.

Seduction won’t be hard, seeing as she is beautiful.

The only problem is, I’m as romantic as the main character in the book she’s reading.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Was that a question or a command?”

I inhale and refrain from barking out that she will come if she knows what’s best. That is not the way to win this game.

“Please have dinner with me today.”

“That wasn’t so hard. Now was it?”

I look at her expectantly. She still hasn’t given me her answer, but I wait for her to speak despite my impatience.

From where she’s sitting, her head is craned up and looking at me. Our eyes are locked. She’s doing that thing where she nibbles on her lower lip. She’s thinking. Although I don’t know what there is to think about. I am her husband, and at some point, she’s going to have to spend time with me.

Especially since her father’s plan is to use her to get to me. She can’t possibly do that unless she seduces me as well. It’s a game of cat and mouse. Both of us trying to be the predator. Unfortunately for her, there can only be one.

There is only ever one winner.

What Viviana doesn’t know is, I never lose.

“Okay,” she says.

When I reach my hand out, her eyes go wide. She’s shocked by the movement. She doesn’t expect this.

Good.

I like to keep her on her toes.

She stares at my hand, outstretched and waiting for her.

For a moment, I wonder if she’ll reject it. I wonder what is stronger inside her—the fear of her father or her strength. She answers my question when she places her small and delicate palm in mine.

With our fingers interlocked, I pull her up until she’s standing.

Then together, we walk out of her room. I lead her down the grand staircase. My steps are slower than normal. Seeing as I’m much taller than her, my gait is longer, so I consciously alter my own to keep pace with her.

When we arrive in the dining room, I drop her hand to pull out the chair. She takes a seat, and then I sit beside her. Looking at her, I realize the last time we sat this close to each other was at our wedding. I’m going to have to change that if I think I could use her. But how does one seduce their own wife, their wife who is attempting to do the same?

If she was any other woman, it wouldn’t be this hard. Before this, I didn’t really date. Sure, I had a shit ton of sex. But date? Nope.

In my line of work, there is no room for relationships. Relationships are cemented in place solely for alliances.

Which is why I now have a wife. Except, in this case, there’s no alliance to be made. If this was a date, I would talk to her about what she wanted in life, what she desired, and what she likes. I’d pretend I care. So that’s exactly what I’ll do.

“We don't really know each other,” I start.