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

key fit when I pushed it inside the lock and twisted. The door pried open with a creek like it was abused, used until a sound like this screamed from its spine.

Inside the door was a large room with a wall-sized window full of light pouring through. There were bookshelves lining every other wall and even two rows free-standing.

Bowen Astor built himself a library and locked it away. Why?

Letting my eyes eat up every detail I could, I weaved in and out of the rows of books and held Severus like a guard dog. He wasn’t vicious—just curiously by my side.

Behind the rows of books, I found a small desk pushed up against the window with a small table and comfy chair creating a small nook. I wanted to imagine the Bowen I knew, quiet and subtle, curled up with a book, but the one I knew now was so much more painfully beautiful with his wandering mind and blatant cynicism.

The desk looked old like it survived our childhood when I recognized it.

It couldn’t be his childhood desk.

A desk that took up a large portion of his room and was too big for him.

Setting down my new pet again, I got on my knees, pushing the desk chair out of the way and checked the bottom for our signatures.

My fingers ran over our names etched into the wood, and I felt my eyes water enough to blur the beauty of it.

It was his desk.

The same desk we wrote our names on with my butterfly knife.

He kept it all these years and shoved it in a room with his favorite things behind a lock to keep it safe.

Pulling the chair back, I sat at the desk letting my curiosity get the best of me as I attempted to open the drawers. I don’t remember his desk having locked drawers before.

Taking a hopeful leap, I used the same key and the drawer let me pull it open. All I found was folders, black folders that seemed too daunting to peek into.

Staring at them too long, I finally cracked, peering into his privacy like some voyeur violating him again. Only this time he didn’t know.

Opening the folder, the first thing I noticed was a shiny white plastic scrap with sharpie all over it. Spotting the anarchy A, replacing all the normal ways for an A to be written, this was unequivocally from Khaos.

Reading the messy sharpie, I gathered it was an agreement of some sort by the dramatic language. It was like Kanye West and William Shakespeare mated, producing this nut job.

Turning it over I saw it was originally a bag of Starburst.

Too on brand.

Putting it aside, I shuffled through the folders complete with Polaroids of girls in plain satin dresses and a desperate look in their eyes.

Is that why he told me not to be so desperate on our wedding night? Is it because he saw something in me resembling these girls?

Picking up a faster pace, I shuffled through each folder, collecting all the photos in my grasp, finding more scary similarities to me in each one.

Pitch black hair.

A kind of pale that had cinnamon dashed in.

Piercing blue eyes.

These girls could qualify as doppelgängers for me. They were all the same build, with the same features, and had the same fear lurking under their skin the way mine forced me to sit pretty.

Dropping the photos, I opened the last folder to see another girl that looked all too familiar. Reading the name Chevy, odd name, I admired how she was flipping off the camera. A sense of macabre crept up my spine. Chevy was the spitting image of me with her attitude on full display to cover up any weaknesses from showing on the outside.

Tucking everything back into the drawer, I scooped up Severus Snake and flew out of the room in a panic trying to draw a conclusion that made sense.

Who were the girls who looked like me?

Were those girls keeping him from being lonely before me?

Why couldn’t he like blondes in my absence?

Every theory I had led back to Bowen trying to hold onto my memory in some kind of twisted way that required a paper trail.

The doorbell chimed loudly, making my shoulders shoot up to ears having never heard it before. Bowen basically had a sign outside his house that said abandon all hope here which worked well in its invisibility considering he never had any unexpected guest.

Opening the door suspiciously, I hugged the robe around me even though it barely touched my knees. Everything that once worked properly—my voice, my ability to run, the way Bowey taught me to throw a punch—all cowered away.

Elias.

He didn’t wait to be invited in, and it made me cringe.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, he told me himself he was moving here, and it brought on a storm I couldn’t control.

EVE

His body heat forced me back against the wall even more than I already was. His height casted a huge shadow over me and the darkness felt cold enough to make my hard nipples uncomfortable even with my arms crossed over my scandalous clothes.

Elias was the kind of demon that you never saw coming. He was personable, bright, happy, a perpetual flirt, and had a face that seemed to be stuck to looking much more average than he was.

Leaning into me, I pushed my face to the side trying to escape best I could when his fingers caressed my cheek. “No matter what you endure, you’re always so beautiful, Eve. A sleeping angel… I miss watching you sleep.” His husky whispers drenched over me and made my skin crawl.

“Elias.” I tried to make my voice stern, but it was a plea instead.