“Real names?” Marcus demands.
I grin. “That’s right. I’m not legally a Valentine. Blake and I weren’t adopted by these psychopaths. Maria had my parents killed by Anton Mathers and we were taken.”
“I don’t give a shit about your sob story,” Marcus spits. “I want to know if the name on the wedding papers is your real name?”
Lucien is quick to jump in. “Yes, of course, it is. I had it changed to Valentine when she was a kid. The papers are legal and so is your marriage.”
“Fuck,” Marcus yells. “I don’t fucking want her now. Not after you’ve touched her. She’s broken…used. I was promised a virgin. You fucked me over. Four fucking years of waiting and you fucked me at the last minute.”
“Please. She was no virgin, were you, you little slut?” Lucien scoffs, shooting a foul glare my way before turning back to Marcus. “What does it matter anyway? You didn’t want her because of her virginity, you wanted her because she looked like your first wife. That hasn’t changed.”
Shit. How fucking perfect for me. I look like the guy’s dead wife. No wonder he wants to force me into certain clothing, schedules, and perfume. He’s trying to recreate her using me. That’s so fucking wrong.
Marcus growls, stepping into Lucien. “Don’t you fucking talk about her,” he spits, turning his gaze back to me. “Were you a virgin or not?”
This is getting way too out of hand but with his anger focused on Lucien, I do what I can to keep it there.
I force tears to my eyes. When in doubt, bring on the waterworks. “I was,” I cry, looking to Marcus. “He made me bleed. It hurt so bad. I had to run because I knew he’d do it again. He was going to make the most of the last six months and get what he thought he was owed.”
Marcus’ eyes turn to a deadly stare as they slice back toward Lucien and with their attention currently occupied, I grin to myself. Fucking perfect. The tears worked like a fucking charm.
As if forgetting the gun in his hand, Marcus swings at him again but Lucien is prepared and instantly fights back. The two of them are thrown around the room, crashing into bookshelves and the security monitors against the wall.
Lucien’s bar is destroyed and I watch with wide eyes, terrified that I’ll be next.
Fists fly as loud grunts are heard around the room. A gun is dropped but from here I can’t tell whose it is.
I have to get out of here, but how? Their fight is a mess. It’s nothing like the fights I usually see. It’s sloppy and weak; rich boy fighting. Slade and Damian had to grow up protecting themselves and their friends, but people like Lucien and Marcus, their way of fighting is usually dealt with by throwing money at people.
It quickly gets out of control and knowing that someone is going to get hurt, has me creeping back around the desk, ready to get out of here.
If Marcus was to go down, Lucien will come for me and if Lucien was to go down, Marcus will probably come for me too, but the good news is that it sounds like he’s up for a trip to his divorce lawyer.
I start creeping to the door, trying to avoid being hit or elbowed in the face when the gun sounds quickly followed by the glass window behind me shattering into a million pieces. The three of us pause and for a moment, there’s complete silence.
Neither of them had expected that. The gun is in Marcus’ hand and from the astonishment on his face, it was an accident, and realizing this, the fists start flying once again.
I make a break for it. I’m not sticking around a second longer.
I bolt for the door, narrowly avoiding being rammed into by Lucien’s back as Marcus shoves him hard. “Get the fuck back here,” Marcus roars before I hear more grunting and groaning followed by a bang and then the sound of a heavy body dropping to the ground.
Fuck. I start sprinting.
I reach the stairs when a hand curls around my elbow and my body is jolted back with a hard yank. I’m shoved up against the wall with Marcus pushing into me. “You fucking knew and let this sham marriage go ahead,” he spits. “You’re just as fucking bad as they are.’
“I weighed up my options and went with the one that gave me a better chance at survival. I’m nothing like them. I’m a fucking survivor.”
He shakes his head, a promise deep in his eyes. “Not tonight, you’re not.”
His hand tightens on my arm while his body presses harder against mine, keeping me pinned. He reaches for the top of his pants and throws the gun to the floor, freeing it so he can unzip them while nuzzling his face into my neck and breathing me in. “I’ll be visiting my lawyer first thing in the morning and getting this shit annulled, but I won’t be leaving empty-handed. You’ve all fucked me over and now it’s my turn to get what I’m owed.”