THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance by Elena Monroe (best big ereader txt) 📗

one that bites? No one told me you came already broken, good thing I bought it.” I took the long way around the island trying to avoid being too close.

I didn’t want the old parts of Eve that still existed under the pretty fucking princess routine to assess the damage of me up close.

She doesn’t wait hand and foot on people, she doesn’t let people disrespect her, and she doesn’t not talk back.

Her mouth was as deadly as her fists. Or least used to be.

Flipping a pancake, she smiled softly. “I got up early to make pancakes to celebrate cracking your surface last night. You know, letting me corrupt you the way you always used to let me.”

Let her? She was a fucking wrecking ball. I had no choice but to follow her lead every time she found trouble.

Grabbing a smoothie from the shelf of the fridge, I twisted the cap off and started downing it like it was a lifeline.

It was.

My jaw tensed and my teeth felt heavy when I retorted, “I don’t eat. Have you seen me eat anything the entire year you’ve been visiting?” Sarcasm wrapped around my words because we both knew the answer.

The smile gracing my presence slipped from her lips, leaving behind a shattered kind of appearance I was hoping would dissolve her little act that she continued to insist on balancing.

Eventually.

A second later, the smile returned, making my eyes clamp down when she started making a to-go plate. “At least take some for work. Maybe for a snack or breakfast for lunch?”

Walking by the end of the counter where she pushed the container for me to take, I ignored it instead of pushing it into the trash the way I wanted to. As much as I was still trying to break her glossy finish, I could only hurt Eve so much.

“I don’t eat, so don’t cook for me. I told you, sitting pretty is all you have to do.”

I caught her reserve slip when she sucked in a breath and her hand slapped the counter demanding my attention. “What do you expect me to do all day?” The words were strained and desperate for direction.

Grabbing two nips off the bar cart in the next room, I watched her recover and force a smile again. “I mean, is there something I can do?”

She wasn’t going to break easily, and I wasn’t going to stop until I got my Eve back.

“Whatever it is you usually do when I’m gone. Maybe you can snoop like you did last time?” Holding my smoothie against my ribs with my arms, I was already shooting the smooth, tart, liquor down my throat. I was way too sober to look at her flinching with trauma that won’t be easy trying to peel from her bones.

Almost all of it visible too. It wasn’t lost on me how frail she looked trying to match my stature.

Slumping into my car, I was leaving her abandoned as usual with no transport, no numbers, and no directions, just like I did to the girls that Donte would save for me.

I was always looking for her in other people and was disappointed when they turned out to be poor duplicates. I’d hold them hostage in a cage until they broke, have them work as my assistant, and make sure they trusted me before I set them free.

If you let an injured animal go into the world, they’ll end up dead before they can learn to survive.

I wanted them to survive.

Maybe because I wasn’t.

Downing nip number two, I pressed the start button of my black Aston Martin, letting the trembling of the engine kick starting annoy my neighbors.

Walking into my office and ignoring my assistant, Chevy’s questioning smirk, I kicked open my door while chugging the rest of my smoothie that was a murky green color that didn’t seem appetizing, but I was used to it now.

Sitting behind my desk, I opened the bottom drawer to find various bottles of Hennessy waiting to be picked for my coffee today, chasing all the goodness in the now empty mason jar.

Pouring an ample amount, I watched the coffee turn a darker tone when I stirred them together with my finger, sucking off the liquid stuck to my skin.

No sense in wasting one drop.

I had done three stints in rehab. All of them leaving me worse off than the time before it. By the third time, I was practically running to a bottle to castrate my exposed nerve endings.

Rehab was a bad joke that only made me better at hiding shit.

Chevy was a hard one to break, she had a habit of doing what she wanted for her own sick pleasures which meant letting three all too familiar girls barge into my office unannounced when I was pushing the drawer closed. “Can I help you?”

Grace was standing behind them unamused and quiet in a way I immediately respected more than Vic and Grimm’s wives.

I wasn’t just an acquired taste; I had picky taste buds for people too.

Justice folded her arms against her chest with a look in her eye that said I want to kill you even though her voice was softer than normal. “You’re getting married? Does she know you?”

Guess she wasn’t over our last interaction… If she really wanted to send me to hell, she could, but I had a feeling she was going to the same place.

You can only repent so much before it becomes bartering for your soul.

Sipping the coffee with the smooth aftertaste I could recognize anywhere, I didn’t bother entertaining them, it was a waste of my time. If they wanted information, they could gather it on their own or bother their husbands.

Abigail’s voice was saturated in worry when she