Vengeful Desires

Chapter 9

“Answer the damn question, Mirabelle!” Dwayne bellowed.

Mirabelle flinched, her heart taking up residence at the back of her throat. She instinctively threw her hands up in a placating manner. “It’s not what it looks like,” she blurted out and then promptly mentally cringed at how stupid those words sounded, even to her own ears.

Dwayne arched his brow. “Really?” he asked, and then raised the tablet and stared at the screen. He made a show of pursing his lips and really scanning what was displayed on the open page. “I don’t know, Mirabelle, because this looks like you are going through a job application form for Saram Pharmaceutical Company.”

His head slowly turned, and he stared at her. “Are you going behind my back and doing exactly what I told you not to do?”

Mirabelle frantically shook her head. “No,” she croaked out, mentally calling herself every manner of stupid for being so careless. “I was just curious,” she added quickly.

For god’s sake. She wasn’t lying. She had been curious. Dwayne had, of course, taken the business card and destroyed it, but Mirabelle had already glimpsed the name of the company and, after battling her curiosity for days, she had finally given in and done a little research.

Once she started, however, Mirabelle had been like a sponge, absorbing everything from the company's history to their objectives and future goals. She could easily imagine herself working in such a place and how much she would contribute. Then, like a stupid bird who didn’t know when to stop flying higher, she opened the link for a job application on their website.

She hadn’t planned on actually applying. There would be no point. Dwayne would never allow her to work. Still, it hadn’t hurt to read and gauge just how qualified she would be for the job. She should have just deleted her history half an hour ago and saved herself all the trouble. Now it was too late, and she was going to face the music.

“I told you to forget about it.” Dwayne dropped the tablet on the couch hard, making it bounce before it tumbled to the carpet where it miraculously didn’t break.

His glare sent shivers down Mirabelle’s spine. “Is this what I am getting married to? Disobedience? You would dare go behind my back and apply for a job when I have clearly told you I don’t want you to work? And where! In the same company that belongs to the man who was flirting with you right in front of me?”

Mirabelle’s lips pressed together into a thin line. She shook her head. Not this again. “No. He wasn’t flirting. You know he wasn’t, Dwayne. Stop saying that.”

“He was, and you were gushing all over the bloody floor like a cheap slut!” he bellowed.

Mirabelle recoiled. Her eyes widened as she looked at the man she was supposed to be getting married to in a few weeks and felt nothing but shock and rage. That wasn’t what happened, and he knew it. Yet he insisted on his own version of things and used it to justify his insults.

Her back teeth locked, and her hands curled into fists at her sides. She felt every muscle tense in her body. “I’m not a slut and I don’t appreciate you calling me one,” she said through gritted teeth.

A darkness entered Dwayne’s eyes that Mirabelle had never seen before. Instinct told her to turn and run, but her legs were frozen to the tiled floor covered in glass shards, melting ice cubes, and alcohol. She watched his lip curl in a disgusted snarl.

“Again. You don’t know when to shut up.”

He expected her to shut up and take the insults and accusations? Mirabelle blinked at the man. What had she been thinking, agreeing to marry this man? Love, Mirabelle answered her own question. She thought she loved him and he loved her. That’s what she had been thinking.

Right then, she knew she probably should keep her mouth shut, but anger and frustration had already reached their boiling point. She couldn’t do this anymore. The realization slammed into her like a hard punch to the gut, stealing her breath.

A quiet gasp escaped her lips. She grabbed for the counter behind her to steady herself. She had no idea where she found the strength to hold his icy glare, but Mirabelle did and lifted her chin defiantly. “If you wanted a Barbie doll, all pretty, fake boobs, and silent, then you shouldn’t have picked me, Dwayne. I will not become a doormat for you. I have my own dreams and desires.”

“That is not how this works,” Dwayne retorted without missing a beat. “You will be my wife and you better do what I damn well tell you without question.”

“Or else what?” she spat, throwing care to the wind. It was like watching a truck speeding out of control and knowing it would crash. She didn’t care. Mirabelle pressed on the damn accelerator and let go of the steering wheel.

The man obviously didn’t appreciate her response. Dwayne took a menacing step forward. He arched a brow at her. “Are you challenging me?”

Mirabelle didn’t answer. The quiet way in which he’d asked the question made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle with apprehension. All of a sudden, she wondered if she should just relent and let him have his way. It certainly seemed like the safer choice.

It wasn’t as though she had anywhere to go. She lived with him. And maybe he had every right to be pissed with her. She’d checked on the company when he told her to forget all about it.

Mirabelle mentally shook her head. No. She quickly realized she was trying to explain and justify Dwayne’s actions because she was scared. The man she thought she had fallen in love with wasn’t the man glaring like the devil in front of her. There was no way to explain away all his hurtful words and ridiculous demands and behavior.

A whole minute went by without a response from her and Dwayne obviously thought he had cornered her. A sick satisfaction crept onto his face. “All the cards are on the table, Mirabelle. You either reign in your s**t and become my perfect wife, or you get the f**k out of my house.”

“What?” Mirabelle asked. She had just reached the same conclusion in her own way, but hearing the words out loud in the air still rocked her somehow.

Dwayne laughed. A deep, dry laugh that made her teeth lock hard. He then reached back into the waistband of his pants and removed a gun.

At the sight of the cold, black handgun casually held in his hand, Mirabelle’s blood went cold and her breath caught in her throat.

Dwayne looked down at the gun in his hand. “You either give me what I want or you get out.”