The Marriage Debt (De Vos Mafia #2)(39)

Her tongue darts out, and she quickly looks away, but I saw. I definitely saw.

The elevator dings and settles on the ground floor, breaking the spell. The doors open, and she steps out with haste, breathing shallow breaths from the tight dress constricting her body. Or maybe it’s because it really was too hot in there with just the two of us.

A lopsided grin forms on my face as I walk her to the exit.

“So we’re really doing this?” she asks.

“Yes, we’re leaving,” I say as we go through the revolving doors.

When she steps out, she sucks in a breath of fresh air, and her skin instantly erupts into goose bumps from the cold. A full smile still spreads on her lips as she looks up at the dark night sky, marveling at the stars. “Beautiful.”

I never pegged her to be the stargazing type, but I’ll remember this.

I walk up to the limo where my driver is already holding open the door. “Let’s go.”

The smile immediately dissipates from her round, angelic face when she looks down again and sees the limo. “Oh …”

“What?” I muse, my tongue sliding along my canine teeth. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you go, did you?”

The look on her face sours, but even her disappointment can’t dampen my mood. She looks beyond gorgeous, and I can’t fucking wait to show her off to her family in this dress and with my fucking ring on her finger. Because I want them to know I fucking own her now … and it won’t be long before I’ll own them too.

“Come,” I say, holding out my hand. “You’ll see your family if you do.”

“And what if I don’t?” she says, shaking in her shoes. “What if I run? Would you stop me?”

I tilt my head, and a laugh escapes my mouth. “Do you think I’d let you?”

“I won’t want for anything else. Ever.”

My nostrils flare. “Get. In.”

She sucks in a breath and then marches to the car with her head held high, flipping her hair at me like she’s upset I told her the truth. But she already knew the answer before she even asked.

People like us … we don’t make mistakes.

We can’t afford to.

And if she decides to run … she knows what’ll happen.

To her.

To her family.

To everyone she ever cared about.

And that’s exactly the thing she wants me to know, the thing she’ll use against me. Because it proves that she is my captive, my unwilling bride, and that I’m merely using her as a toy to play with.

She’s not wrong.

But that doesn’t make it any less rage-inducing, especially when she has this smug look on her face. I made it difficult for myself by picking her.

Sighing, I get into the car after her and shut the door, then make sure it’s locked. I don’t want her escaping while we’re on the highway even though she knows how fucking dangerous that is. It’s just the kind of thing she’d do to make a point.

I shake my head and look out the window.

“You lied to me,” she says.

Not even one second of rest. How does she keep doing it?

I turn my head, and she continues, “You asked me what I wanted the most, and when I said freedom, you said ‘let’s go.’ You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie.” My brow rises. “We’re going somewhere.”

She makes a face and leans in to slap me, but I grasp her wrist midway in the air.

“I thought I told you to play nice tonight. Or do you want us to turn back around?” I lean in. “Do you want me to lock you up in that room again? Or should I make you sleep hanging from the ceiling? Because I can, and I will.”

She gulps and shakes her head, so I release her wrist. She starts staring out the window like she’s trying to forget she’s even here. As though she’s imagining herself out there between the common people, doing some relaxed shopping and living a normal, happy life. The look on her face is a mixture between melancholy and jealousy, like she wants nothing more than to disappear.

I envy that.

I envy her ability to turn her back on everything because I can’t ever imagine anything other than this life.

In this world, we are the killers, the bad guys, the criminals.

And I’m the prince more than willing to inherit it all.

My fist clenches, but I release it when she looks at me, her eyes full of disdain.

I fucking hate it.

When did I suddenly decide to care? I don’t.

Fuck.

Stop.

I grunt to myself and look away again.

When the car finally stops at the restaurant, I blow out a sigh of relief. My driver unlocks the doors, and I quickly open mine, holding out my hand to her.

She reluctantly takes it, but only after throwing me another glare.

Of course, she’d never pass up a moment to show me just how much she despises me.

She steps out and hits one of her heels on the sidewalk, collapsing straight into me. I manage to catch her in my arms. “Careful there.”

“Don’t act like you care all of a sudden,” she hisses, and she shoves herself off me.

I quickly grasp her waist and pull her close. “I never said I didn’t.”

“Yet you still seem to want to punish me every second of the day,” she hisses.