Page 119 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

Enough.

I will not indulge in self-loathing anymore, just make the best out of my situation.

And currently in this monstrous world, my husband is what’s best for me.

He lifts our joined hands to his mouth and gives me a gentle peck, holding my stare as his brown orbs flash with possessiveness and danger. “Who gives a fuck? They judge me all the time.” Another soft kiss and he pulls me toward him, our lips inches apart. “You.” He bites on my lower lip. “Are.” His tongue swipes over the abused flesh, sending tingling sensations all over me. “Mine.” He connects us in a toe-curling kiss, stabbing his tongue deep and coaxing mine to play with his, roaming inside my mouth and owning it.

Moaning at the contact, I fist his shirt, wishing to feel his naked skin underneath mine and forget myself in his arms once again, for my mind always calms then, because he has all the control.

In his arms, for the first time ever, I’m the center of someone’s attention, and the heady feeling only intensifies with each encounter, chaining me to the passion only he inspires.

His fingers slide over my bare back, dipping under the dress to the curve of my ass cheeks, electricity zapping through me, and I arch, giving him better access to deepen the kiss and do something about the fire spreading in my veins.

That’s when he tears his mouth away, letting me gulp some air, and pushes me away, my back resting against the leather cushion again. A disappointed whimper slips out of me. “Believe me, chérie, I want nothing more than to fuck you right now, everything else be damned.” His thumb rubs my lips, his eyes darkening when I bite on it. “We’re minutes away from attending the party. I won’t risk anyone hearing a single moan coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.” Harshness laces his tone when he adds, “It belongs to me.”

Slapping his hand away, I mutter, “You’re no fun at all, Remi.” He chuckles at this, clutching my thigh, and I straighten up, my attention momentarily shifting to the view greeting us outside.

I gasp in awe, studying the magnificent Price mansion, because simply put, I’ve never seen anything more stunning, and all the pictures floating around on the internet don’t do it justice.

Emerald-green grass covers the enormous property, so smooth and neatly cut that it brings attention to the massive, marble statues depicting Greek goddesses from Aphrodite to Athena spread throughout the land, each more beautiful than the other.

I even recognize one of my father's works by how detailed the art piece is, with the goddess’s dress giving an impression of movement.

A fountain stands in the middle of them all, a man holding an arrow as he points it at someone in the distance, and the water falls from his mouth, giving it a rather dangerous and irking vibe, making me want to stop looking at it or he might actually come alive and send his deadly weapon my way.

His clothes are scarce, being a character from a myth, although when I rack my brain for who it might be, I come up blank.

“Paris.” I glance at Remi, who must have noticed my confusion. “Grandpa Atlas loves the character very much.”

I blink at this. “Didn’t he cause war that brought an end to his nation when he fell in love with a woman he shouldn’t have?” And what’s with everyone’s obsession with the Trojan War anyway? At this rate, I won’t be surprised if another horseman has a second name given to him as tribute to a beloved character. “He wasn’t a great warrior either.”

“His arrow killed Achilles. That impresses Grandpa Atlas.”

Well, a questionable victory really, considering Achilles’s one weakness was his heel, by which his mother held him when she was dipping him in the river to give him protection from any wounds.

We drive farther inside, where a mesmerizing garden consisting of various bushes and heavy trees greets us, the flowers blooming and giving the whole place a colorful and magical vibe contrasting with the earlier statues.

Countless lamps brighten up the space, showcasing its beauty under the most flattering light.

There are even alcoves with white roses climbing the walls, almost inviting you to indulge in sin and the most basic cravings inside them.

In fact, everything here reeks of carnal needs and vices permanently attached to us humans.

The moonlight casting shadows along with thousands of stars in the sky only add to the sinister atmosphere, bringing attention to the massive building in the distance with many expensive cars pulling up for people to emerge from, greeted by the staff.

The three-level mansion spreads horizontally, made out of brick and the finest wood, judging by how the double doors open widely to welcome all the guests.

The amount of windows alludes to a large number of rooms, and two more statues stand by the front door, lions roaring at one another in fighting stances, and several women even jump a little while passing them.

All in all, only two words describe the energy buzzing in the place and making me curious to get a peek inside the mansion and yet dreading it at the same time.

Power and status.

Whoever enters it, does so with a knowledge that the Price dynasty has the power to destroy them and strip them of all their riches, and just the idea of meeting them all sinks fear into every cell of my body.

Familiar nervousness shows itself when heat from behind blankets me, warming me up from inside out. “Penelope,” Remi whispers into my ear, “smile and always remember people are watching. Never let them see your weaknesses.” I look over my shoulder at him, and he nips at my nose. “You’ll get used to it, chérie.”

Will I?

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