Page 18 of Stolen Vows
Uh, okay then.“Thanks.”
“It was the first thing I noticed about you.”
“Tonight?”
He chuckles. “No.”
My brain is too fuzzy to fully process the weight of that one word. Eventually, my nausea dies down a bit, and he leaves to bring me a bottle of water and a toothbrush. I try to sit up more, but everything spins as I do, so he takes the brush, squeezes a dollop of minty paste onto the bristles, and pries my mouth open.
I’m frozen in place, watching this brutal beast—theDemonof Boston—gently scrub my mouth clean. His dark eyes focus solely on the task and not the haphazard shape of my silky pajamas or the fact that I’m in his bed, of all places.
I’m grateful he doesn’t ask why I came here and that I don’t have to admit I wanted to be surrounded by his scent.
It’s unnerving, his undivided attention. Up until now, it’s presumably been concentrated on one goal—to get me nakedand beneath him. Consummation, which is what’s expected of us.
I’m not sure what to do with his kindness.
“So, why Stanford?” he asks, finally removing the toothbrush.
I blink, trying to grapple with the change in conversation. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there are plenty of prestigious colleges on the East Coast. Why pick one so far away?”
“Haven’t you ever wondered what else is out there?” My question is spoken so softly, murmured between my partially open lips. “Not just outside of Boston, butout there. In space and beyond.”
“Can’t say the thought’s ever crossed my mind, no.”
“Of course not. Why would a king need to seek asylum elsewhere?”
It’s a rhetorical question, and Leo doesn’t bother answering it, but something shifts on his face nonetheless. “So, you’re interested in space and beyond.”
“I’m interested in anything that isn’tthis,” I admit quietly. It’s the first time I’ve said the words out loud, a confession that my interest in academia and intelligence is a front, because I’m afraid of what will happen to me if my mind is idle.
I seek facts and concrete data, or theorems on the principles of gravity and the makeup of the universe, because I don’t want to be like my parents. Bound to their heritage and tradition, lacking any identity outside it.
With knowledge comes a certain level of responsibility, but there’s alsofreedominnately attached. That’s why I cling so tight to my books, my peer-reviewed articles, and my scientific journals. Because of the possibilities within. The potential for expansion and experimentation that doesn’t exist within the scope of the Mafia.
Not that I can tell Leo any of that. It’s too pathetic. “In the past twenty years or so, demand for geneticists, specifically, has increased about forty-three percent. In the next decade, vacancies and positions are only expected to further increase. It’s a steadily growing field, and I like the idea of helping to identify hereditary risks with the intent to benefit the masses. If I can do something like that, something that matters…I don’t know. I guess that’d make everything else in my life worth it.”
“How very practical of you. I’m impressed that you’re able to spout statistics while inebriated.” He folds his hands in his lap, seeming to consider my words. “And your father was willing to let you do this? Before he got the idea to sell you off, I mean. You did receive an acceptance letter, I’ve heard.”
Heat scores my chest, and I don’t reply. Ican’treply—can’t tell him that one of my only accomplishments in life was paid for by my oldest sister and her husband.
Without answering, I take the bottle of water Leo offers, ignoring the grittiness from the toothpaste as I guzzle it down. Breathing heavily, I wipe my mouth and look up at him, trying to see the angle—the reason he’s asking. He’s already taken my future away.Is this the final nail in the coffin?
“Why do you even care about any of this?” I probe after swallowing.
“I suppose morbid curiosity,stellina.I find that I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”
My pulse throbs against my neck.What is that supposed to mean?
He leans in, his face so close to mine that I can feel his breath fan across my mouth. I swallow hard, and my stomach flips over on itself as he brings his leather-clad hands to my shoulders again, rolling me.
When my back connects with the mattress, fear snakes down my spine.
“Obviously, college attendance now is out of the question.”
Resentment boils in my chest. “I don’t need the constant reminder that my life is over.”
