Page 5 of When Sinners Hate

“Well, that’ll be rather hard. We’re to be married but we won’t sleep together?”

“This isn't love, Alexia. I doubt either of us has any sentimental ideals.”

“Ah.” She snickers to herself about something and begins walking back into the house. “You’re frustrated. Did I ruin a plan of yours, Abel? Do you have someone special out there in the wilderness who pines for you? Do you pine for her?”

She sips her drink and wanders around the room, sneering at certain objects as she goes, before she leaves the room and takes herself through the corridor. I follow, trailing her with little else said. It’s a nice enough view of her ass that I’m comfortable with the silence, and when she does eventually look back at me I don’t conceal the interest. “Do you like what you see?” she asks.

“I’m sure you’ll be useful enough for fucking.” I move past her to walk the stairs to her suite. “Come.” Or maybe it’s our suite. I haven’t decided yet, but one thing I do know is she won’t be going anywhere near my home. That’s my space – my refuge. Only family has access to it other than me, and that requires palm prints from each of them and a damn good reason for bothering me.

The door opens to the far west wing, and I walk us into the large, three–room space. It was mine for a while, but it’s been renovated as a guest suite since I left. One open plan lounge area, one master suite and one bathroom. Blue and gold now. Not my preferred taste, but I won’t spend any time here other than necessity.

“These are your rooms,” I say, closing the door behind her. “I expect they can be redecorated if you want.”

She looks around, inspecting the area and the glass bowl on the side table until she’s back in front of me. “Adequate. I’ll bring some of my own things with me when I return.”

“Return?”

“I’ll be back in a few weeks once I’ve settled some matters at home.” I back step until I’m leaning on the door and drink what’s left of my Champagne. “Is that a problem?”

“It is for you, yes.”

“For me? Why?”

“You’re not leaving, Alexia. You’re in now. The doors are locked unless I say otherwise.”

For the first time since she’s been here, the mask slips. She glares at me from under it, her shoulders going rigid. I chuckle to myself, amused with her internal tantrum about control. Whatever control she thought she had left the second she arrived. I may seem calm, tolerable even, but I’m far from it when pushed, and I am repulsive when challenged. She won’t like me much at all.

“Let me make this clear so you understand what you’ve agreed to. There is no leaving unless I sanction it. There is no opinion of yours that’s relevant. There is no option available to you other than what I say. And there is no way out, Alexia.” The first glimpse of her real nature starts to emerge. It’s filled with all that hatred I know she harbours for some reason. Her smile cracks, her eyes harden, even her nails seem to grow in the minute I take to lay down the rules. “As my wife, I'll expect you to do exactly what I ask, when I ask it. Any form of denying me will end in your harm. Do you understand?”

“You’re threatening me?”

“If you disobey me, yes.” Her chin tips up again, and all those pretty features stay flat, as if to make her first challenge known. “Take a minute to ensure that message lands clearly in your head. This is my only warning. There won't be another.”

She does take her minute. She analyses me. She looks me up and down. She even dares opening her mouth to attempt arguing with me. It would be unwise, which she clearly catches on to because that mouth closes again.

“For clarity's sake, tell me you understand.”

She nods. Nothing else.

“Use your fucking mouth.”

She frowns at that and attempts berating me with a covered glare again. “Yes. I understand.”

I kick off the door and walk closer to her, taking her empty glass so I can refill it downstairs. “I’m glad that’s settled. Will you arrange for your personal items to be delivered or should I contact your father?”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Good. I’ll meet you by the pool in half an hour,” I murmur, walking for the door. “I’m sure you’d like some time to adjust to your new home and clean up.” She stays quiet. Norecourse. No attitude to deal with. “And Alexia, lose the lipstick. I don't like it.”

Easier than I thought.

CHAPTER TWO

Alexia

Arrogant fucking bastard. He caught me off-guard with that little play, but now I know he wants to make sure I know my place, I can play along.

Abel Cortez. Well, I wasn’t expecting him. He’s the one with the record, the one that seems to steer the decisions and keep the rest in line. A catch to many. I should be flattered that the simpering younger brother wasn’t the plan. But then, I’d be able to wrap him around my little finger by sucking on his tiny cock and making him do my bidding.

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