Free TROUBLE 2 by Kristina Weaver Page B

fair, seeing as it’s been five days since Nana’s heart attack and I no longer need him to keep me from going nuts.
    I cherish that brief time of care, but I see now that it’s over, and I prepare myself for whatever crawled up his ass this morning.
    “I am very glad Nana is okay.”
    “Me too,” I murmur, pulling the sheets up to my naked breasts. “Could I get dressed?”
    I ask every time, because if I do get dressed and he doesn’t want me to, he can be one mean son of a bitch when he retaliates. The last time I’d made that mistake I’d had to sit through an hour of some weird documentary I can’t remember while he tortured me with his hands and mouth.
    “No. We need to talk,” he says, stopping at the corner of the bed to look down at me.
    I’ve decided that this is for the best, and honestly I’m not even a little uncertain anymore. We’ve run our course, and I need to be done now. I’ve learned that life is short, thanks to Nana’s brush with death, and spending my time with a man who has told me in no uncertain terms that he doesn’t love me is not healthy.
    I need a new start, and I am quite frankly sick and tired of his attitude.
    “I know.” I sigh deeply before squaring my shoulders. “It’s past time to be done. We’re…”
    He narrows his eyes at me, shutting me up, and tosses something onto the bed. I don’t move until he nods down, only then dropping my eyes to the coverlet.
    My hand is shaking as I reach out to pick it up, and I stop breathing when my eyes finally focus and I am staring at an engagement ring with a diamond that is big but tasteful.
    “What is this?” I whisper, sitting as still as a statue.
    When he doesn’t answer I force my eyes up to his. His face isn’t expressionless. It’s worse. He’s looking at me with a cold determination that makes me shudder.
    “I want what you took from me, Hannah,” he says, taking a step closer. “I’m thirty-two years old. I want a wife and a family. You took that away from me, and now I expect you to give it back.”
    “You don’t love me.”
    It’s a tortured whisper gasped out past the lump choking me to death.
    He shrugs and takes my hand, studying the ring thoughtfully.
    “It’s resized.”
    “Gregory, this is…”
    Not a good idea. Breaking my heart. Not happening.
    “You will marry me, Hannah,” he snarls, and I swallow convulsively.
    Not because he loves me or wants me or anything that resembles an emotion I can live with. He wants to own me and take revenge for ruining his engagement and the merger I now know would have followed between Lucas and Jeffries Industries.
    If he’s just asked…..
    I stare at the ring and know what I have to do…
     
    # End of Part Two #
    Please SUBSCRIBE TO MY NEWSLETTER .
    Thank you :)