Page 55 of His Forced Bride

"Your wife. Right. The woman you keep locked in your house, surrounded by armed men, who can't even make a phone call without permission."

"The woman who's alive because of those armed men."

She moves to the small desk in the corner where I had Rosa install a telephone.

Her fingers find the receiver, and she begins dialing.

I cross the room in three steps, pressing the disconnect button before the call can connect.

"Don't," I warn.

"I'm calling Alina. She needs to contact our suppliers?—"

I disconnect the call again.

This time, I remove the receiver entirely, holding it away from her reaching hands.

"Give it back."

"No."

"Give it back!"

She lunges for the phone, and I have to catch her wrists to keep her from clawing at my face.

She's shaking with fury, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You bastard. You fucking bastard, let me call my friend."

"Your friend can't help you. No one can help you except me."

"Help me?"

She struggles against my grip, trying to break free.

"You're the one who destroyed my life. You're the one who forced me into this marriage, who's keeping me prisoner in this house. And now you won't even let me try to save my business?"

"I'm trying to keep you alive."

"I'd rather be dead."

The words feel like a slap in the face after what I've done for her.

I slam her back against the wall, pinning her there with my body, my face inches from hers.

"Don't ever say that again."

"Why?"

She glares up at me, defiant despite the tears.

"Because then you'd lose your convenient wife? Your business asset?"

"Because you're mine," I growl.

"Because the thought of you dead makes me want to burn this entire city to the ground."

Her eyes widen, pupils dilating despite her anger.