THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance, Elena Monroe [have you read this book .txt] 📗

fingers, I squinted trying to see what was coming next. “He’s unstable, unpredictable-” I could feel the words sitting on the tip of her tongue wanting to spill out.

Cutting herself off, I watched her discomfort grow right in front of me. Nothing makes my mother, Cecelia Astor, uncomfortable.

She was made of the shit that traumatized even your demons.

I didn’t know much about my mother’s life before me, only that it was the opposite of how she lived now. I could only imagine the kind of pain that makes your skin tough like hers.

“I’ll try not to kill him, happy?”

The warmth of her hands made me jump when she laid them over mine, I always figured she’d be cold to the touch, frozen in time from all the loss she had to endure. I was deprived of warmth and affection, hell, I was still figuring out the difference between sex and intimacy because my demons put them in the same category. “Eve has had it just as hard as you. Just be careful, Bowen.”

She knew things she wasn’t saying and now she confirmed it.

 

Pulling my hands out of her grasp, I felt the comfort of being cold, pulling me into the dark again, while her eyes dug into me. I could connect the dots without the staring and touching, her stepbrother is the reason she’s had a hard life.

Standing up to her full height in her heels and grabbing her designer bag, she gave me a small smile before heading for the door when I shouted after her, “How did dad vote?”

It was worth knowing if he was on the same side as us.

Pulling the door open she stood there, head over her shoulder still smiling. “The way I told him to, of course.”

I had allies even if I didn’t see them.

 

BOWEN

I woke up the next morning to an empty bed with my face buried in my pillow. Normally Eve found a way to keep me on my back while she pushed up against my side, tracing butterflies on my chest until she fell asleep.

Sitting up, I scrubbed my face and tossed the covers back. Pulling a shirt over my head and finding discarded jeans on the floor, I got dressed before leaving the room to search for her. I didn’t bother shouting her name; she’s always been hard to miss. All of her screams don’t you want to get into trouble with me and you do.

I must have looked all over for her before I saw her outside in a small satin slip, standing in front of a canvas with a clear glass full of Henny. The brown liquid she had been consuming exclusively for the past two days was recognizable by now.

She would look beautiful if I knew she wasn’t trying to destroy herself.

Crossing my arms, I watched her paint abstract blue strokes onto the canvas. She loved painting when we were kids and was always covered in paint stains to match her latest masterpiece. It was good to know they didn’t break every part of her in Denmark.

Not turning around, she spoke, “I can feel you there… Maybe the Henny senses you.” She made an ohhh sound like a ghost and snorted right after, making it clear she was already quite buzzed. It was going to be fun to convince Eve to attend a wake for people she hated in an hour.

This early in the morning and already flirting with intoxication—that was enough to make me rethink my own habits.

If only they were mine, I can’t decide what choices my demon’s make.

“We have to get going, Eve. Wake is today, remember?” I was waiting for the pushback when she dropped her paintbrush like I completely tainted her creativity.

I could feel the anger emanating off of her already as the contents of the glass slid down her open mouth, and her eyes got darker in challenge. “I’m actually busy today.” She pushed past me, heading quickly inside and up the stairs with her drink between her fingers.

I twisted around, following her. “Doing what? Drinking yourself into napping? It’s not optional, Eve. You are going even if I have to drag your ass there.” I wasn’t in the mood to banter with her before she learned my way is the only way.

Polishing off the glass and setting it down on the dresser, she thought she was winning. “Actually, yes, if you need to know. I can wish her an awful trip to hell from bed. You can’t tell me what to do, Bowen, you’re not my mom… she’s dead.”

Eve had an answer for everything, and I knew that well from our childhood. It was half the reason we got in trouble and half the reason we never got in trouble. She is a smartass with a dangerous mouth and has me wrapped around her little finger believing the trouble wouldn’t be all that bad if I just give in.

Throwing herself onto the bed, she landed on her stomach with her ass hanging out of her slip, seemingly ignoring me. I braced my weight into my palm against the cold sheets, my body hovering over hers as my hand crept into her dark locks and gently pulled her head back demanding she listen to me.

I watched her cross her ankles and keep scrolling on her phone with her body on display like it would soften the blow of being told what to do if I was a victim of the madness too. She was playing dirty, but this Eve didn’t realize I only got better at her games that I used to survive.

Her face filled with attitude twisted towards me when I pulled a little harder on her locks and ripped the phone from her hands. “She’s dead, I’m not. You’re going to