Page 27 of The Pakhan's Forced Bride
“Desperate ones,” Drake laughs.
“Ha. That’s the one. Listen, man, don’t let her back on the property, please. I don’t think she’s dangerous, but I don’t want her walking into my private space. Things ended between us a long time ago.”
“Noted. I’ll inform the security team.”
Drake leaves my office, and I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face and then pushing my fingers through my hair. So, Lydia spoke with Belle. I wonder if she said something rude. It has to be why Belle was cold to me today. Why didn’t she tell me Lydia came by. That’s odd, isn’t it?
I march over to her room, knocking loudly on the door.
She should have told me.
“I’m busy,” she calls out from inside.
I push the door open anyway.
Belle is sitting by the window, drawing. She quickly slams the book closed and glares at me with those beautiful blue eyes.
She says nothing, even when I walk in, taking my time looking around her room.
Finally, when I reach her, I fold my arms over my chest and glare down at her. She crosses her legs on the armchair and glares right back.
“Why didn’t you tell me that Lydia came to the house?” I ask.
For a second, I see fire in her eyes as she unfolds her legs and sits up straighter.
“Do I look like your personal receptionist?” she snaps, standing up, taking her sketch book with her. One day, I want to see what’s inside there.
I follow after her, and she pauses at her dresser to place the book in the top drawer. “I don’t understand why it would be an issue to let me know I had someone stopped by. You spoke to her, didn’t you?”
She turns to face me, her mouth pursed, her hands clenched. Her cheeks are starting to glow.
“Listen here,Ardalion, it’s one thing to kidnap me and force me to be your wife, but I refuse to also be your messenger. If your girlfriends want to come and, as she rather blatantly put it, enjoy yourusual fun time, you can respectfully leave me the hell out of it altogether.”
She’s fuming.
And suddenly it all makes sense.
“Are you jealous, Belle?” I ask, taking another step towards her.
She backs up against the dresser.
“Jealous of what—Lydia, the one and only? Please. She came here looking like Little Red Riding Hood.” She rolls her eyes, and I step even closer, my body pressing into hers, my mind savoring her obvious grudge towards this woman she doesn’t even know. There can be only one reason for this type of reaction from her.
“It looks very much like you’re jealous,” I say, my voice low, touched with amusement.
“And why would I be jealous, Ardalion? Because it’s not like there’s something going on betweenus. I’m your tool for revenge. Nothing more. Right? Why would I care who you’rehooking up with when you leave the mansion to go toworkor wherever you go?”
“So, you’re not jealous?” I tease.
My face is close to hers, her breath is sweet against my lips, I could lean another few inches and kiss her.
“No,” she answers tightly. “I’m not.”
“But you’re my wife,” I offer her a reason.
She snorts, laughing softly, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Am I?” she sasses, tilting her head to the side.
“My wife should be jealous if another woman challenges her place at my side.”
