He dragged his hand up and down his sulky lower lip. “What the fuck did you do?”
I scrambled to mask my face.
I wouldn’t let Grayson see me like this. Falling apart. Regretting everything.
“Did,” I said, forcing my tone steady. “It’s done.”
It was done.
Another wave of light-headedness.
“I should scream,” I said, grasping for control.
“Do it.” His eyes flashed to mine. “I’d love to give your husband another black eye.” He rubbed his lower lip harder. There was an edge to his movements, a gleam in his icy eyes; he looked out of control. “If you think I’m going to let you marry him and take my baby, you’re goddamn insane.”
He laughed. It was cold. Scary. Filled with something dark I didn’t understand.
His eyes flashed; then he took one step, and in the small space it had me pressing my back against the shelf. Above me flour and sugar jostled.
“The servants can hear us,” I whispered.
“I don’t give a shit. You’re my girl, Snitch,” he said, voice a low growl. “You’ll always be mine. No fucking ring will change that. And I don’t like fucking sharing.”
“And I do?” I snapped. “I could have left. You could have lived happily ever after. I could have…lived. At least now we’re on equal footing. You don’t have all the power. For once, it’s mine.”
“It’s always been yours,” he said softly, absently, but before I could even think on what that meant, his jaw hardened, and he said, “He’s not a white knight, Snitch; he’s a snake, an opportunist. He knows you don’t love him, but he knows you have no other choice. His parents are going to excommunicate him or worse. So what the fuck is he getting out of this?”
I don’t know.
Wouldn’t it be romantic if all he needed was me? But at least I can say I’m not that stupid anymore. West is getting something…I just don’t know what.
He says it’s me, but even I don’t believe that.
“Yeah. I chose to run away with the villain because my prince wanted to shove me into a tower and force me to watch him live happily ever after with someone else. At least he’s honest about it.” I shoved him off with both hands. “I need to get back to dinner. To my husband.”
“You haven’t thought this through, little nun.”
I haven’t.
I was scared.
Terrified.
“You should worry about your wife, the one you’re trying to get pregnant.”
“Let me explain what you heard back there. What Lottie said—”
“You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“I backed you into a corner. Let me get you out.”
“Get me out how, Grayson?”
“A divorce, to start.”
“And then what? You’ll let me leave? You’ll leave Lottie?”
His jaw clenched, but he said nothing. I tried to shove him away, but he pinned me harder.