Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Kostas
I’ve watched her sleep fitfully for fuck knows how long now. Hours maybe. Sometime during the early morning hours when the moon was still out, I left the hospital and came home intent on crashing. The events have worn me the hell out. But finding Talia looking so broken and fragile gave me pause. A frozen sliver in time where everything stilled and elusive peace washed over me.
I don’t move.
I don’t speak.
I don’t do a damn thing except stare at her sleeping form as I sit on the edge of the bed. Her silky blond hair has dried into messy waves and her plump lips pout out as though her dreams are horrible. For her, they probably are. She was dragged into Greece’s most ruthless family and forced into a marriage with a monster.
Monsters aren’t always as horrible as they seem.
One day, maybe she’ll see that.
Like Mamá did?
The thought hollows me out. My mother clearly put on a show for all of us. A show Father was a star in. I feel betrayed by them both. For my mother stepping out on my father, and for him playing this fucked up game with our lives as payback.
Would Talia eventually come to love me like I thought my mother did my father, or will she feel like she’s trapped with a monster, always seeking for a chance to escape?
Irritation churns in my gut.
My instinct is to drag Talia up by her hair, force her to look deep into my eyes, and explain to her that if she even thinks about pulling a stunt like my mother, I’ll destroy her in every way possible. The monstrous beast inside me begs to do just that, fueled on betrayal.
But all it takes is a little whimper in her sleep to have me backtracking.
Talia isn’t my mom.
And I’m not my dad.
I scrub my palm down my face and let out a huff. I’m still marrying her because that’s clearly the play destiny has set for us. It’s something my parents and her parents paved the way for. Sure, it was done to us as some sort of punishment, but it doesn’t mean we can’t take control from here.
Rising from the bed, I make my way over to her and kneel. My fingernails are still caked with my father’s blood and a shower is long overdue. But as the sun peeks in through the windows, signaling the start of a new day, I can’t help but take action.
Take what’s mine.
“Morning,” I say, my voice rough from leftover emotion and lack of sleep. “Talia, wake up.”
She jolts, a scream of terror ripping from her lips, as she tries to scramble away. I grab her shoulders and pin her down on her back.
“Calm down,” I growl. “It’s me.”
Her lashes flutter and then a mixture of relief and worry swims in her sleepy blue eyes that are bloodshot. “Kostas,” she croaks. “You’re home.”
Something about the way she says home has my chest tightening in response. “I am. We need to shower and get ready. I have a big day planned for us.”
She furrows her brows together as she studies me. “Are we going to the hospital?”
“No, moró mou, we’re getting married. Remember?”
“W-What?” she screeches, sitting up and looking around frantically. “We can’t. Your mom just died and your dad is in the hospital. And my parents…” She trails off, more worry flashing in her eyes.
“Your parents what?”
“I sent them away,” she breathes.
Smart girl. There’s no telling what I’d do to Melody if I saw her right now.
“It’ll be better as a private affair.” I rise and walk toward my bathroom, shedding soiled clothes along the way. I’ve just turned on the shower when I sense her nearby.
“Kostas,” she whispers, her hand touching my bare back. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I swivel around to look at her. Genuine concern gleams in her eyes. Her chin is lifted, and even in her disheveled state, she’s beautiful. And mine. Soon, in the eyes of God and the law, legally mine.
“It was always the plan,” I remind her, tucking a blond strand behind her ear.
She trembles visibly and curls her arms around her waist. A pitiful look crumples her pretty face. I really am a monster to her. A prison sentence. Torture. I grip her wrist—the hand that wears my ring shining brilliantly—and bring her palm to my bare chest where my heart thunders.
“Feel this?” I rumble, searing my gaze into hers. “This thinks it’s a good idea.”
Her eyes well with tears, and her bottom lip trembles. “But…”
I lean forward and kiss her soft lips. “There are no buts, Talia. Just the plan. Follow the plan.”
A tear snakes down her cheek, making my heart pound harder. Everything in me screams to strip her down and tug her into the shower with me so I can give her a preview of exactly how good of a plan this is. But the utter fear on her face is enough to have me pulling back.