Chapter 8

I finish dressing for the day and sit in front of the mirror to brush my hair. I make myself presentable, even though I know damn well I'm likely not going to go anywhere. And I doubt I'll see anyone besides Rossi, Hudson, and a few crew members who randomly pass through the same area of the house I'm in.

I might be here to marry into the Romano family, yet Enzo has barely even seen me in the few weeks I've been here. He left days ago for a business trip, and as far as I know, he's not back yet. I'm thankful for that. Really, I am. Everything about his existence makes my skin crawl. And I'm terrified of being alone with him. Yet I can't help but wonder what things will look like once we're married. Will I have to actually spend time with him? I hope not.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I pull my long blonde hair into a ponytail and force myself to stand and face the day.

Every day here is the same. Well, besides last week. After I had a complete breakdown, I got to go sightseeing with Hudson. For a few hours there … it kind of felt like my entire life wasn't a dumpster fire. I was seeing things I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd get the chance to see. And spending time with Hudson wasn't so bad either. In fact, I felt comfortable. As much as I hate to admit it, I even felt safe. I should in no way feel safe with him. He's the freaking bodyguard for some horrible people, for God's sake. But for whatever reason, being alone with him all day, I didn't hate it.

That was until his energy completely shifted, and he snapped his personality back to cold-douchebag Hudson, who doesn't smile and won't look me in the eye. And ever since then, he's avoided me, basically treating me like I'm herpes.

Pushing the door open, I head down the hallway. I feel Enzo's dark presence in the house before I physically see him, making me want to stop in my tracks and go back into my room. Dread fills my gut, but I can't run from him forever. Me being here is my fault. There's no point in running. And even if there was, there's no place to run. Or hide.

If I was smart, like my brother, I'd be back in Georgia.

I round the corner, and there he is. Sitting at the table, Enzo wears a black suit—tailored just for him, I'm sure. His father sits across from him, and a man I don't recognize is at the other end. Enzo's hair is gelled, and the closer I get, the more his potent cologne fills my nostrils. That's a scent I've grown to hate.

Hudson, Rossi, and a few others stand around the perimeter of the room. None of whom acknowledge my existence as I get closer.

Why would they? All I am is a pretty thing for this monstrosity of a human to dangle on his arm.

They are all, undoubtedly, used to random girls being around, I'm certain. Enzo has said numerous times that he has other women.

Lucky them.

Rossi's eyes finally meet mine, and he gives me a slight, curt nod. Hudson, however, keeps his body stiff and his gaze on everything but me.

The day I spent with him, I could have sworn it felt like we were becoming friends—or along the lines of it. And now, he's back to hardly looking at me, which I should consider a blessing because with him out of my hair, I might be able to plan on what I'm going to do to take these assholes down and get out of here in one piece.

No part of me knows what to do in this moment. Do I take a seat next to my fiancé, whom I absolutely can't stand? A man I've spent a total of … oh jeez, maybe two hours with since I've been here. During which I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. Or do I go back into my room and close the door? Since, clearly, there's some sort of meeting going on right now.

Deciding on the latter, I start to turn back before Enzo's voice stops me.

"Briar," he snaps, his deep voice sending a chill down my spine. "What the fuck are you wearing? Go change. I have a meeting with some investors in an hour, and you will join me."

I turn to face him, feeling his eyes rake over every inch of my body, making my stomach churn.

Lifting his hand, he waves toward my chest. "There's a black dress in the closet. You'll wear that with the heels I had delivered yesterday."

When Rossi brought in a few boxes yesterday, I didn't even look at what was in them. Honestly, I didn't care. I guess right now, I have to actually dig through the new clothes and find this dress I've been ordered to wear.

When I don't answer, too deep in thought, his voice grows louder. "Do you understand me, Briar?" His dark gaze cuts through me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"Y-yes," I say swiftly, nodding my head. "I'll go get ready."

His eyes narrow as he tips his chin up. "Yes?" He says the word as a question, and I instantly know my mistake.

Without meaning to, my eyes sweep the room as my cheeks heat. In this moment, I feel like a coward. In this moment … I've never felt weaker in my life.

Rossi looks away quickly, whereas Marco lifts an eyebrow, almost warning me to say the right thing. And Hudson stares out the window at the driveway, but there's no mistaking his body tensing up.

Still, he says nothing. He doesn't acknowledge me as a human being. Instead, he goes on, ignoring the entire situation.

I thought we had a good time.

I swore I felt … something.

I don't let tears gather in my eyes. I might look it to my soon-to-be husband, but I am not weak, and I'm certainly not going to cry for a piece of shit like the one before me. But playing clueless? I can do that. As long as I know deep down that I'm so much more than this right here … I will be okay.

"Yes, sir," I whisper before pulling in a breath and attempting to stand taller.

Pushing his chair away from the table, he's in front of me before I can even process a thought. His hand grips my chin, squeezing it tighter by the second. "I didn't quite hear you, fiancée. " He tips his chin up higher, almost as if challenging me. "Speak to me like a good little girl who respects the man agreeing to marry her."

"Yes, sir," I say louder this time, keeping my composure.

It's only two words, but they're two words I never want to say again in my life.

A smirk that drips with evil stretches across his face. Leaning in, he brings his lips to my hair, inhaling before moving to my ear. "You're learning, Briar. But not fast enough." His hand moves to my hip, digging his fingertips into my flesh. "Don't make me punish you for not respecting me."

"I won't," I say, and he slowly releases me.

"Good. Now, go get ready."

Turning away, I don't even make it a step before his hand comes down on my ass, and I bite back a yelp. I don't look back at him—or the other sets of eyes who saw the entire exchange. I just keep walking to my room. And when I make it there, I close the door and sink onto the floor, completely embarrassed and defeated.

How did I put myself in this position? And why did I ever think I was strong enough to take down people like the Romanos?

I've been doing this job for a while now. I've seen some shit. Lots of shit. Piles of shit.

Fucking mountains of shit.

Yet nothing has ever gotten me as pissed off as watching Enzo hit Briar's ass as some sort of fucked-up warning in front of a room full of men. And seconds before that, he'd warned her about punishing her if she didn't respect him.

Fuck. That.

I wish I could grab that motherfucker by the neck and bash his head into the table until his skull was shattered and his blood was all over the dark wood. Thoughts of it rush through my brain, making my hands ball up at my sides.

I've gone undercover many times. I've seen men treat women like shit, and, yeah, I didn't like it. Sure, I wanted to murder them in their shoes for putting their hands on a female. But this is different. This is enough to make the veins on my neck bulge, even though I'm trying to appear unaffected. The way I'm feeling right now is why I've barely spoken to her since our little outing the other day. I knew the second we got in the car and headed home from sightseeing, she was looking at me differently—lighter.

Trusting.

I knew if she looked at me like that for too long, I'd be a fucking goner for her.

I had come here to do a job. And that woman has the ability to fuck everything up for me.

As much as I'd like to murder Enzo right here, in front of his own father, that wouldn't solve anything. It'd just start a war and ruin everything so many of us have worked so long on. So, even though I want nothing more than to stand up for her, I can't.

She's a beautiful distraction—that's what she is.

Once she's out of the room and Enzo hears her door shut, he turns toward Rossi and me. "Meet me at Marino's in an hour. And make sure you have the girl with you."

"You got it, boss." I nod, pushing through the anger that's still coursing through my body from watching him slap Briar's ass.

Maybe I'm jealous that his hand got to touch her.

No. That's not it. I'm just being a good fucking person. I don't care about Briar James's perfect ass.

Not even a little.