Page 256 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
Bruno.
He shouldn’t be here.
He should have been in Rafael’s custody.
Or worse.
Dead.
He betrayed Rafael two months ago. I remember it clearly—Rafael ordering him to be brought in for execution, even asking me to witness it.
But I had pulled back.
Out of fear.
He hadn’t been killed. He’d been spared.
A man who should have been dead... was still breathing.
My pulse thundered so loudly I could barely hear anything else.
Bruno stepped further into the room.
“Look at you,” he said softly, almost amused.
His voice carried a sick satisfaction that made my skin crawl. “So this is what he risked everything for.”
I swallowed hard, forcing air into lungs that refused to cooperate.
“Rafael forbade me from his company because of you,” Bruno snarled, his voice sharpening into something vicious and ugly. “Forbade me from his own house because of you. And now the bastard has disowned me—denied me as his blood, stripped me of every asset, every inheritance, every fucking thing I bled and sacrificed for... all because of you.”
He took a step closer, eyes blazing with pure hatred. “You worthless, fat bitch. You waddled into his life and ruined everything.”
My fingers tightened against the mattress behind me.
“I don’t know what filthy spell you’ve cast on him, you disgusting whore,” Bruno spat, his face twisting into pure revulsion. “But I’m about to rip it apart right here and show him exactly what you really are.”
The room seemed to shrink around me, the air turning thick and suffocating.
The men behind him shifted forward in eerie unison.
Bruno turned his head just enough to address them, but his dead, hateful eyes never left my face.
His voice dropped into something icy and venomous.
“Bind the wretched creature so tightly that not a single inch of her soft, flabby flesh can twitch or resist,” he ordered, lips curling with cruel delight.
“I want her rendered utterly helpless—strung up and displayed like the worthless piece of meat she truly is.”
A wave of ice-cold terror slammed into me.
My heart seized, then exploded into frantic, painful hammering against my ribs.
“No—” The word tore from my throat, hoarse and cracking. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
But they keep moving.
Step by step.
