THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance by Elena Monroe (ebook reader android .txt) 📕

arm playfully. “Don’t be so uptight, Vic. He’s having fun for once in his life. Something he hasn’t done since I left.”

Grabbing the back of her arm, I held her in place. She wanted to go toe-to-toe with me when neither of us were the little kids she remembered.

“That’s not fun. That’s self-destruction, sweetheart. I recognize it.”

Her smirk faded and all the attitude arrived at the top. “And whose fault is that? You’re the best friend, right?”

Well, fuck me. She blamed me for Bo’s cheery outlook on life and now her sass made all the sense in the world.

My grip on her arm tightened without permission. Being blamed for another human that isn’t my headache of a wife is a problem for me. Humans are messy and I know better than to take responsibility for their actions.

Leaning into her, I whispered between us, “You just arrived, Eve. Maybe take a look around before you start placing blame. Pretty sure it started when you left.”

Watching her face cave in, deflating just like her puffed chest, she ripped her arm from my grasp. We were duking it out to prove how much we both cared for the same person.

Neither of us expected Bowen to rise from the piano and wrap his arms around our necks, pulling us in together. “I love you both.”

Bowen didn’t love anything. No one. Nothing. He was the strongest of us for it, impenetrable.

Eve wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest like what he just said was a damn gift instead of the final war cry. Just like that, Bo ended the war with a damn group hug of all things.

Pulling away from him, I watched every part of her anger, aggression, and judgment fade as she inhaled Bowen. There was so much time and distance between them yet it seemed like none had actually passed. They were still thick as thieves.

I had no choice but to respect it.

Justice, my headache and own personal comfort, twisted around facing Bo when she pointed to the cage. “What’s up with the cage?”

Bo chuckled, and that genuine chuckle from the mouth of someone as sinister as him had all of us on edge. Scanning the guys faces, we all sported a terrified look that was unsure of what he would say. No one knew why there was a cage in his damn living room, but we didn’t want the gory details either.

“Act up like your man and I’ll show you…” his laugh halted, and his eyes turned almost black like the painful shit in life turned him on.

Khaos’s hand pushed against Justice trying to push her into misbehaving so we could get the truth out of him one way or another. Grimm seemed to relax just when Abigail grew a small smile like she was silently agreeing with Bo’s taste in pleasure.

I wasn’t blind or deaf. I had heard the rumors and details that made its way around the office about how Grimm liked women gagged, bound, and submissive.

Submissive wasn’t how I liked anything. I wanted to wage a war and claim my spoils, not use a safeword to get my way.

Khaos just cared about being loved enough to make how they fucked not matter at all.

We had all sunken back into meaningless conversation when I realized Bo was absent from the room altogether as we all sat down at the long dinner table. I was too bewildered to realize I was moving with everyone into a different room.

I was looking for weapons, an assault, a dirty game of got you.

Leaving Khaos to tell some grandiose story with his hands, different voices, and gestures too big for the room, I ventured off to make sure Bo was in fact still alive.

Without all the chatter filling the room, I could hear the guttural punch of someone hurling up everything but their ambitions.

Pushing the door open to the downstairs bathroom, I saw Bo with his palms on his knees, folded over the toilet while all the poison came back up. The robe was in a pile on the floor, and it forced my eyes to take in Bowen’s vulnerability.

More depth and raw nerves I never saw so bluntly until now. It was assaulting to see the sinister melt down to emotions.

As he stood back up, I saw the cuts lining his biceps, some pink and irritated while the others were healed over in a white that looked embossed. Feelings were still a new development for me, and I had to swallow down the storm of them in my throat that threatened to rip down whatever wall I kept up for my own protection.

“You okay?” My voice was sheepish and underdeveloped.

Bo looked at his arm, holding it up, displaying the lines for me when he pursed his lips. “These? Old news. Nothing to worry about.”

So why didn’t I believe him?

Following him back to the dinner table, I took my time, analyzing the back of him scattered with flesh wounds and more scars. Taking a seat next to Jus, I felt her hand smooth over my thigh at the table, eyes landing on mine and my expression seeping through that protective wall.

Whispering in a low voice, “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I did, his name is Braeden, he was Bo’s twin.” Her expression was pure shock and disarmed with questions I couldn’t answer right now. Pushing her full glass of wine over to me, I chugged it down, trying to wash away the awareness rattling around my mind.

Bo held up his glass at the head of the table where he had moved his chair over enough for Eve’s to fit perfectly next to his, even though the space was meant for one. “To the bride to be, I lost her and now I won’t ever lose her