I opened my mouth to say something, but he put a finger to his lips. “You don’t get to talk. You’ve said plenty, especially in your note. Now, it’s my turn.”

Goosebumps immediately prickled my skin, and I couldn’t help but press myself against the half-wall that made up the balcony railing.

“What does ‘fuck off’ exactly mean?”

He took a step toward me, pausing to set his drink on a side table and then continuing in my direction.

“As far as I’m concerned, the only one getting fucked is you. Your mouth, your cunt, your ass.”

He moved closer as if he was a predator stalking his prey.

“Si—”

“You’re going to listen and follow directions. Then, if I’m satisfied, I’ll let you talk. Just because you’re the only woman I’ve ever bent for, doesn’t mean I’m not the asshole you first met. Loving you doesn’t change who I am at the core. I’m still the bastard who blackmailed you into sleeping with me for your freedom. If you want me to treat you like him, I will.”

He’d tried to scare with this type of bullshit from the beginning. It had almost worked. That was until I saw the man underneath the shell.

It wasn’t going to work now.

I lifted my chin, daring him.

When he was right in front of me, he gripped my jaw, tilting it up. “Do you think sending me the rings changes anything? There is no out for you. Our families have a hundred million reasons for this marriage.”

I narrowed my gaze, ready to respond, but he pushed his thumb into my mouth, holding my tongue down.

“And even after the big ceremony, you don’t get out of it because you’re mine. I told you to run as far away from me as possible. You had your fucking freedom. You could have walked away, but you chose me.” He released my tongue and then traced my lips before shifting his hold from my face to my throat, giving it a light squeeze as his other hand gripped my waist. “There is no going backward in this relationship. I will fuck you, use you. You’re my wife, my whore, and anything else I want you to be.”

My heartbeat accelerated, and I swallowed as a chill went down my spine and my core contracted.

“Right now, you’re my whore. Get on your knees.”

If it wasn’t for the blaze in his green irises, I’d believe he felt nothing for me. Something I recognized as the way he handled hurt and pain.

Similar to the mask he’d worn the day he’d ended our arrangement and told me to make a life away from him. And just like tonight, his eyes had given away his true feelings.

“Nyx, I gave you an order.”

“We—”