Page 24 of Enzo (Legacy of Heathens #3)

PENELOPE

I reared back, glaring at him.

“This… you…” I shook my head, struggling to find the words. “You’re all wrong.” He winced, and a part of me was glad that my words struck a chord with his crazy ass. “Our marriage is all wrong.”

My lips trembled.

I was so mad I could weep. But I didn’t. Instead, I focused on these feelings bubbling in my chest. Fury. Betrayal. Hatred even.

The oddest part was that it shouldn’t have mattered to me as much as it did. After all, he was only a stranger. Yet, it bothered me. It… hurt.

Images of all the ways I wanted to make him pay flashed through my mind when his next move surprised me.

He cupped my cheek, his fingers skimming over my skin gently.

“Every marriage is different. Why do we have to classify it as right or wrong?” I blinked in confusion, staring at him, flabbergasted, as he took my nape and tilted my head back, our gazes clashing. “We had a connection that night at the club, didn’t we?”

I licked my lips. “It wasn’t real.”

“It was very real for me.” His nose brushed against mine ever so lightly. “Ever since I first saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted softly, twisting my insides.

I saw the truth in his eyes, but it was still all wrong.

“I need time and space to process all this.” I stumbled back. His face became very still while I kept my eyes on him, hoping he could see how much he’d fucked me up. “I think it’s best if we?—”

Suddenly, he was on top of me, the mattress pressed against my back and my naked body exposed.

“Don’t you fucking dare say get a divorce,” he snarled, his nostrils flaring. “Actually, remove the word from your vocabulary.”

This arrogant, crazy… stalker!

“I was going to say it’s best we sleep in separate bedrooms.” My heart thundered so hard against my rib cage I struggled to breathe. “You violated my privacy. You lied, manipulated, and God knows what else. The least you can do for me is give me some space.”

“This is our bedroom, and it’s our wedding night,” he stated matter-of-factly, but there was a tense undercurrent in the baritone of his voice.

I gulped audibly. “You have nothing to fear from me, and if you give me the chance, I’ll show you as much in time.

But there is no fucking way we’re going down the road of separate bedrooms.”

I opened my mouth, but my voice failed me and no words came out.

Seemingly satisfied, he shifted into a sitting position and laid a sheet on me before he slid off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

I sat frozen, listening to the shower turn on. Everything told me to get out of there, to take my chances even if it meant facing his security detail, but I knew I wouldn’t get far.

I got up, and something thick and wet slid down my thighs. I lowered my gaze, watching my husband’s cum leak out of me. It should have concerned me, but I was on the pill.

I scoffed. The fact that we didn’t discuss protection should have been the first red flag. The bastard knew my sexual history, which was pretty much nonexistent thanks to him.

Anger flaring inside me again, I went to the dresser and grabbed clean underwear, a sports bra, leggings, and a baggy T-shirt. Then I made my way out of the bedroom and into a hallway bathroom to clean myself up before I got dressed.

I peered around, considering bolting once again, but Amara’s face popped into my head. She was my guiding light, my reason for putting up with all this shit. I cringed to imagine what she’d say to me if she could see me now.

So no, I wouldn’t risk it. I’d stay. For now.

Just as I reached for the handle, the door swung open and Enzo stood in front of me wearing boxers and a frantic look on his face.

I glared. “Can’t a girl get a little privacy?”

His expression softened and he reached for a loose strand of my hair, letting it glide between his fingers. “You can have anything you want.”

“Except for my own room or a divorce,” I taunted, although I knew he was right. There was no way out of this marriage. At least not on the grounds of my husband being too obsessed with me.

“Ready for bed?” he asked, not taking the bait. It was childish, I knew. I sidestepped him and headed back to the bedroom without another word. I could hear his exasperated breath, although his footsteps were silent as he followed me.

“You’re going to be too hot sleeping in that,” he remarked, watching me slide between the covers in my clothes.

I sent him a reproachful look, fluffing my pillows with more gusto than necessary.

“I’m sure you’d prefer I wear sexy lingerie to give you easier access.” I lay down with a huff and stared at the ceiling. “Sorry to disappoint…” I trailed off, not sorry in the slightest.

“You could wear a snowsuit, Penelope, and I’d still find you sexy.”

I peered at him through half-lidded eyes, debating how to take that comment. Under normal circumstances, I might find the words sweet, but nothing about tonight was normal . Not even close.

“It’s late, and I’m tired,” I said, closing my eyes. “So do yourself a favor and keep to your side of the bed. Otherwise, it won’t be you who regrets it, it’ll be your dick.”

I rolled over and gave him my back, the picture of insouciance.

And then I waited.