“You said it yourself.” I stroke his erection with my palm, and his anger falters, eyes shuttering. “You’re going to give me away to another man. You’re going to hand me over yourself. Maybe I should invite you to stay for the wedding night so you can watch him fuck me. That will give you something to remember me by.”

His lips curl into a cruel smile. “What a good idea, little monster. You know two can play that game, right? Perhaps I should take you to the Cat House, and you can watch me fuck my favorite courtesans all night long. Watch the way they kneel before my cock, worship it, and then swallow my come—”

“Fuck you.” I shove against his chest, and this time, he captures me and hoists me back onto my side of the car without an ounce of gentility.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs darkly.

I turn to face the window, my jealousy eating me alive. I hate that he knows it. I hate that I don’t know if he really means it. Just because he gave me his assurances once doesn’t mean anything. There’s nothing to stop him from going to the Cat House every night and partaking in whatever or whoever delights him. I have to assume if he hasn’t been touching me, he must be getting his pleasure somewhere else. And even though I was the one to start this game, Judge quickly proved that he’s always going to be the one to finish it. Because he has all the power, and I am merely a pawn.

The drive is tense and silent, and he doesn’t try to change that. Not until we pull through the gate at his property and the driver delivers us to the front entrance.

“No.” Judge clips out as I try to exit myself and make a dash for the house.

He grabs me by the arm, hauls me out, and leads me toward the stables.

“What are you doing? Leave me alone.”

“What you did tonight with Ivy isn’t going to fly.” His voice is colder than I’ve ever heard it, and I suspect the anger behind it has nothing to do with Ivy at all, but rather the things that were said in the car.

“I hate her,” I snarl. “Just like I hate you.”

“Ten minutes ago, you wanted to climb on my dick,” he reminds me in a biting tone. “And you don’t hate Ivy. You proved that when you showed concern for her when I had her locked up in the cellar here. She’s supposed to be your enemy, yet you felt sorry for her. That doesn’t make you strong, Mercedes. It makes you weak.”