Page 70 of Tarnished Vow
“Of course he is possessive.” He grunted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “That one is fucking psychotic.” He walked away. Not having the guts to say that sentence to my face.
Her tattoo was hours old.
And they considered me unreasonable, for making sure they kept their filthy unclean hands away from her.
“Sorry,” she forced a smile. She still hadn’t looked at me, and it really bothered me.
Her lack of personality around me was obvious. And fucking painful to experience.
The same feeling consumed me as I looked at her tattoo. She had got the crest finished without me.
I had spent the whole day staring at her and it was concerning to see her this thin.
Was she about to pass out? The lack of color on her face.
“Did you eat something?” I took a step closer to her. She looked sick. It took all my self-control not to reach for her. I had made sure only to touch her when I had to.
“I can’t,” she looked around the room, “I was sewn into this dress. Mom really had her heart set on it.”
I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.
She touched her stomach. “It’s okay. It’s only day three of the fast. I’ve done longer.”
What was that supposed to do? Reassure me? No need to worry. My wife has starved for longer thanthree fucking days.
“Come with me.”
“Did I miss greeting someone?”
“No Madeline, you need to eat or drink something. I can’t have you passing out later.”
She stared expressionless across the room. “Oh. Okay.”
CHAPTER 33
Madeline
I watched as some of the most powerful and feared men in the world kneeled before me, vowing to respect, honor, and protect me.
They kissed my hands. Their wives kissed my cheeks. Vince’s brothers kissed the inside of my wrists.
And all of them cut themselves, spilling blood on my dress.
Each family member did the exact same thing, then they stood to the side.
The large hall was beautifully decorated. Everything was perfectly placed and thought out, even the low music.
Though, the bed on the raised platform behind me was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
Especially when Vince was the last to stand in front of me.
The lights noticeably dimmed as he took his jacket off, followed by his shirt.
My blood rushed as he stepped forward, bringing the knife to the front of my dress.
I focused on the warmth of his fingers as he pulled the dress slightly away from me, before the knife sliced through the fabric.
With each rip, it left me more vulnerable. Until I stood completely naked in front of him. No way to cover myself. No way to hide.
