Page 20 of Corrupt Desires

“Language, Mrs. Stonewell. You are mywife. You. Are. Mine.”

Her pupils dilate at the promised violence my gaze holds.

“I’m not used to seeing you like this, James. I would have thought nothing rattles you.”

“Emilia… you are my world. I would end anyone that touches you, but it seems you’ve beaten me to the punch.”

Her eyes widen and a gasp releases from between her plump lips as she backs up a step to put distance between us, my arms falling to my side as she retreats from my grasp.

“You do not mean that, James. This is just”—she motions between us—“a deal of convenience. Nothing more.”

“What do I have to do to convince that pretty little head of yours that you are my everything?” I grab for her hand, pleading with her, conveying the truth of my words in my eyes.

“James… let’s go inside. It’s getting cold and I’m hurting.”

I wince at the mention that she is hurt.How could I have been so selfish?The first thing I should have done was get her in the house and cleaned up.

“Emilia, love, I’m sorry. Let’s go get you taken care of.” I turn, opening the door and tugging her along after me. Before we head upstairs, I lock the door, then gently guide her up to the en suite bathroom.

Illuminating the dark with a flip of a switch, I grab Emilia by her waist and hoist her up on the sink. She lets out a surprised squeal and braces herself on the sink ledge. Now that I have her in the light, I can see the extent of her injuries. She has a cut above her eyebrow, the one that I was able to see outside, accompanied by dried blood dripping down from the cut. She has a lump forming near her temple where I assume she must have either hit it on the steering wheel or the window. Taking off her leather jacket, I see fresh bruises on her wrist where they must have grabbed her. Based on the bruise, Emilia put up a hell of a fight.

My fists clench in anger. I let this happen. I should have known that Anthony would not let her go so easily. I let her out of my sight, and they almost took her. I won’t forgive that so quickly.

I rummage through the cabinets for my first aid kit. Once I find it stashed in the back, I lightly pour some alcohol on a cotton swab so I can clean her cut.

“This may sting a bit, love.”

As I bring the cotton swab to her forehead, she flinches back before steeling herself for the pain. She hisses through her clenched teeth as the alcohol cleans and disinfects her cut. Her knuckles whiten as she grips the sink ledge, probably resisting the urge to kick me in the balls.

“Dammit,la madré que te parió.” (Motherfucker.)

“I’m sorry, Em. I’m almost done, I assure you. Thankfully you shouldn’t need any stitches.”

“Isn’t that a relief?” she replies, albeit a bit sarcastically.

“Can we talk about what I said outside earlier?”

There is hesitation in her gaze as she looks up at me through her lashes. Before she can utter a retort, I put a finger to her lips.

“Shhh, Em. Let me talk.”

Her eyes widen before narrowing at me, but miraculously she stays silent.

“I meant what I said earlier, love. You are my whole world. I would burn the city to ashes to find you and torture those that have hurt you. No stone would be left unturned. You have been my obsession for years. I’ve never stopped trying to convince you to give me a chance, even though you shut me down ruthlessly every single time. I know your hate for me goes deep, but I have no idea why. Well actually, I have a feeling I know why.”

Her eyes track my every move as I take a seat on the bathtub ledge before continuing on. “Years ago, your father propositioned me to marry you. We had just met and I had seen that you were still so young, had so much life yet to live and experience. I didn’t want you tied down to me, a man that has already experienced young adulthood and found no more joy in it. I was deep in building my law firm, and I wouldn’t have had the time to devote to you. You deserved to live your life to its fullest, experience all that life had to offer. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—take that away from you. I declined your father’s offer, with the promise that I would try to win you over another way, on my own. But ever since your father made me that offer, you have hated me with a fiery passion, and I have always wondered why. Why, Em? What did I do to make you hate me?”

I peer up at her then, waiting for a reply. Her eyes have become misty, and she peers at me, her eyes softening.

“I… I don’t even know what to say, James. I overheard my parents talking about marrying me off. They mentioned you, and I… I became so angry, so hurt that they would try to sell me off. You were—are—so much older than me. At the time, I couldn’t even fathom a relationship with you, much less marriage. Eventually, I never heard another word of the proposal, so I assumed you declined my father’s offer because you didn’t find me satisfactory enough to be a wife. It angered me even further, thinking I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Her admission causes my heart to stutter in my chest.She thought she wasn’t good enough.

“Never, Em. You are perfect, in every single way. I have wanted you since I first saw you in that diner. I just wanted you to have a life before settling down.”

“Well, I don’t know what else to say... where do we go from here, James? How do we navigate this marriage after all this truth?”

“Well, we could start with you allowing me to take you out on a proper date.”

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