3– Michael

Ever since seeing this woman—Adaline, I’ve always dreamt of being here in this position as the man who she’ll spend the rest of her life with. Now I’m here, and I’m beginning to realize she won’t be an easy woman to deal with.

Understanding dawns on me as I narrow my eyes and watch the woman who just challenged me with two words—Make me. 

I finally understand what her father meant when he asked if I could handle her. At the time, I’d brushed off his words with the confidence of a man who has seen and done enough to believe there’s little left in the world that could surprise him. 

But now, standing here, observing her in real-time, I see that he wasn’t speaking about handling her in the way I assumed.

He meant this.

There’s fire burning in her eyes. Her skin radiates with bubbling energy. And the way she tilts her chin and holds her head high? God help me. The girl is a walking representation of rebellion wrapped in elegance. 

She’s rolled her eyes so many times I’ve lost count. She doesn’t even realize how much she’s said so many things with her eyes even as her mouth remains tightly shut. And her lips—God, her lips. She keeps puckering them, as though biting back words she’s itching to say. 

It’s amusing to watch, really. She has no idea how transparent she is, how much she’s an open book even as she tries to be a mystery. 

A less experienced man might find it grating. A smarter man who likes to be unhealthily in control might find it a warning. But me?

I find it fascinating.

I’ve spent my life around people who wear their masks so well, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to witness raw, unfiltered expression. There’s something refreshing about the way she refuses to pretend, the way her body betrays her. 

Adaline is not the kind of woman a man simply has. No, she’s the kind that demands to be earned, fought for, understood, and learned piece by piece.

It’s thrilling. A challenge I’m willing to accept.

Smiling, I say, “It’s fine if you don’t want to go.”

Surprise flickers across her face and a twitch flutters her brows, her head drawing back. “What? You’re not going to force me to go with you?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “Why should I? A woman must be allowed to make her own choices.”

Her eyes narrow and she puckers her lips again. A breath almost tumbles out of me, my fingers itching to touch the juicy lips, to swipe across her lipgloss and have a taste of it. I swallow and stop myself. 

“What about getting to know me before the wedding?” she asks, still not reassured.

Again, I shrug. “We can do that when I return. And there’s this thing called technology—smartphones that allow us to talk and exchange messages from anywhere in the world.”

“Yeah, right.” She mutters underneath her breath, her eyes rolling as if she wants to tell me to stop talking with such low tones like I’m trying to convince a child.

A smile tugs my lips and I bring my glass between my lips, taking a swig of the champagne. “See me to my car,” I tell her, my voice a low growl.

“You’re leaving already?” She asks, her voice sounding disappointed. 

I nod. “Business trip, remember? I’m on the clock.”

She nods with a shaky breath. 

“Are you missing me already?” I ask, amused by her discomfort, by the way heat creeps up her cheeks before she’s able to contain her emotions. 

“You wish.”

“I do wish.” I say in affirmation. “Come on.”

I take her hand in mine and lead her out of the house to the place where my car is parked and the engine still humming. It’s pitch black out here save for the headlights of my SUV casting a long shadow across the drive.

I stop beside the car and pull the door to the backseat open. “Get into the car, Ada,” I say, my voice leaving no room for argument. But I know better than to think a woman like Adaline will not rebel her way out of this. She’s difficult, I’m worse. 

She doesn’t move. Her brows shoot up as she eyes me suspiciously. “Why?”

I glance at her, unimpressed by the question. “Because, like I told you inside, I’m taking you on a business trip.”

She snorts as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And like I told you inside, I’m not going.”

I exhale slowly. “You don’t have a choice.”

“You said it’s okay if I don’t want to go!” She yells out, incredulous.

“Well, I lied.” I state matter-of-factly. 

“Glad to know I’m going to marry a fucking liar.” She scoffs, her lips curling into a vile smirk. “I am not going anywhere with you, Mr. Michael Black. That is my decision, and you’ll not make me change it.” 

My jaw tightens, my patience wearing thin. She’s making this more difficult than it needs to be. I bring my wrist up and check the time, then exhale a tired breath. “Would you rather I use force?”

She lets out a soft, breathy chuckle like I just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. Then she lifts her chin, staring straight at me, and dares, “Try it.”

“And?”

“And see if my father will let this wedding hold!” she barks out.

A small laugh vibrates my chest as I hold her gaze. I want to tell her that her father has no choice. Other than being a business partner, he owes me his life and he wouldn’t dare take her—my woman—away from me. I don’t say it though. She needs to continue living in her delusion, believing there’s a way out of this.

And if she wants me to use force, so be it. 

I nod into the darkness and one of my men in the backseat moves swiftly, sliding out and pressing a white handkerchief against Ada’s nose and mouth before she has the chance to register what is happening. 

Adaline’s eyes widen in shock as she jerks back, her hands clawing at the arm restraining her. She thrashes, trying to twist away. It’s futile. The did is already done, and the drug is already doing its job of numbing her mind into unconsciousness. 

She goes still. I let out a breath and step closer, catching her before she collapses. She’s warm, her breathing deep and steady. I lift her and settle her into the backseat before sliding in and closing the door gently. 

I’m a man who gets what he wants. 

This trip is happening, and she’s coming with me whether she likes it or not.