Total pages in book: 230
Estimated words: 217798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1089(@200wpm)___ 871(@250wpm)___ 726(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 217798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1089(@200wpm)___ 871(@250wpm)___ 726(@300wpm)
“I absolutely will give you direction if you’re running back to your daddy every time he calls.”
“It’s only been the once.” Isabella’s eyes come up to meet mine, determined and dark. “He hasn’t called me about anything since we’ve been married.”
“In a month. We are still, for all intents and purposes, on our honeymoon. You’ll let your father handle whatever mess he’s made.”
No matter the impression I had of Isabella’s father during the wedding planning process, one thing remains true. He’s terrible at business. He let his daughter arrange a marriage to save him from ruin. How many times will she run back into the burning building of their hotel empire?
Harris Bradley was a great hotelier. Put him in charge of a boutique hotel; he’d make the guests happy. It’s the millions that caught up to him. The billions. He wasn’t made to manage that kind of fortune, which is why he squanders it. Isabella’s been saving him from himself, but she won’t be doing that anymore. He sold away his greatest asset when he gave me her hand in marriage.
Isabella glares at me across the desk. There is no lightness whatsoever in her expression, only a piercing betrayal. “This is insane.”
“He doesn’t have any discipline,” I tell her. “And with no discipline, that makes him unpredictable. It makes losses for his companies inevitable. That kind of man can run through any amount of money if he has the chance.”
“Work all you want during the day, you said. Manage Bradley Hotels, you said. I won’t stop you.”
“This isn’t managing a hotel. This is managing your father. And if you leave for the meeting now, you won’t be here tonight to submit to me. That was part of the deal.”
“I’m going to the meeting.” Isabella sits up tall. Very tall. She looks regal in her wrap dress and flat shoes, perched at the edge of one of my office chairs. “And you can’t stop me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You said that your control would end at the bedroom door. This has nothing to do with our sex life.” She blushes when she says this. It’s endearing enough to make me forget she’s arguing with me. My cock is hard, damn it.
“I know my own terms.” I want Isabella under my control. I want her to submit to me like the pretty wife she is, rather than fighting me over her father’s business deals. I want her to understand that this is for her, not for me, and that I don’t want her precious time and breath wasted on his incompetence. “And the terms make me your husband. You’re not running to save him from himself, and that’s final.”
Her breathing quickens. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m absolutely serious. If you need me to bend you over this desk to convince you, then say the word. I’ll be happy to show you how very serious I am.”
“No,” she bursts out. “This is bullshit. And I’m going. The meeting is tomorrow.”
Isabella moves to stand, but I stand first. She’s shouting at me. She’s shouting, and while part of me recognizes that she has every right to do that, the other part of me is a small little boy cowering under a table while his parents throw million-dollar vases at each other across the foyer. I swore I wouldn’t have this kind of marriage when I grew up—drama and fighting. Control. I need to maintain control. “You’re not racing to your father’s rescue every time he calls. The man will clean up his own mess or he’ll have to live in it.”
Now my wife gets to her feet, pale with anger, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I am his daughter. He asked me for help. And I’m going. I’m going, and you can’t stop me.”
“Isabella.”
“I want an annulment.”
“No fucking way.” My heart clenches. What if I pushed her too far?
“I want the whole marriage wiped from history. You wanted control in bed? Fine. You want to tie me up and let your butler flog me in front of you? Fine. Have Lila watch while you punish me? Fine. But you don’t get to take my family away.” Tears shine in the corners of her eyes. “They’re mine. I worked all my life for them, and you’re not going to take that away because you have some stupid obsession with pretending to be a king.”
Searing emotion works its way through my chest. I’m not the one taking advantage of Isabella to make up for my own helplessness. I was clear with her about our agreement, and her father is being a dishonest, manipulative bastard. He shouldn’t be able to reach into my marriage and stir it up, for god’s sake.
My jaw aches. This is exactly the situation I’d hoped to avoid. Planned to avoid. I won’t let it continue. I won’t have a house full of strife and spectacle. “I’m not pretending to be anything, unlike your father. You, on the other hand—”