Pretty Little Wife - Darby Kane Page 0,2

my fucking house.”

He had never hit her, but maybe that had been a matter of good timing and a bit of luck. The right push and this could be it.

Every cell inside her screamed to move, but she refused to back down. She took a step closer, challenging him on the most basic level. Questioning what he insisted belonged solely to him. She lifted her chin higher. “The house is ours.”

His hand whipped out and caught her around the throat. “Say that again.”

She tried to swallow but couldn’t. Said his name, but it came out as a harsh whisper. Her spirit refused to break. “It’s ours. Mine as much as yours.”

Those fingers flexed against her skin. His palm pressed against her windpipe, daring her to push him past the brink. He didn’t squeeze, but the hatred pulsing off him told her he could and would never regret it. Pure disdain. There was no other way to describe it. As if he wouldn’t blink if she disappeared.

He leaned in until his mouth hovered over her ear. “Did you pay for the house, Lila? One mortgage payment? One tax payment? A water bill?”

He’d put her name on the title, but he viewed the property as his. He deposited money into the joint account to cover bills. Not a penny more. He let her write the actual checks, but he controlled every dime, every month, then looked like he expected her to thank him for being a great provider.

“You never gave me that choice.” She wanted them to be equals. That’s what she’d signed up for when they got married. It’s what they’d agreed to. But with each year he took more control and lessened her role. Turned her into some sort of dress-up doll he paraded around town.

She silently fought back by going out to dinner less and never attending his events. He’d sweet-talk and push, and now she recognized every move as manipulation. Nothing more than a long con that she’d fallen for until he’d gone one step too far.

“I run this household,” he said.

His money. His house. He made the decisions, even the ones that impacted her job and where they lived. Him, him, him.

She’d conceded so much ground to him. She had no idea when it’d happened or why she’d let her life get so small.

No more. The unspoken declaration vibrated through her.

“Do it or let go.” Her voice strained against his hand.

He frowned at her. “What?”

“Kill me. That’s where this is heading, right?” Every move and the dragging anger in his voice pointed there.

Despite his need for control, his mood had always been pretty even. But she had something on him now. Something that could break him and ruin that shiny reputation he stoked with neighborly good deeds and a fake smile. It was as if her breaking point this afternoon tipped off his.

He shook his head but didn’t let go of her neck.

Her hand covered his. She tried to pry his fingers off, to put an inch of distance between them, as the panic constricted her throat.

That quickly, he dropped his arm to his side. The swift move had her tipping forward when all she wanted to do was run away.

After a few seconds of her stumbling, he put his hands on her forearms to steady her. “I’m not the kind of man who hits.”

“Because that’s the bar? You don’t beat me, so you’re a great husband.”

“You’re pushing me, Lila. I advise you to stop.” He never blinked as he watched her. “This thing with the phone really is nothing. Don’t let your imagination fill in gaps that don’t exist.”

“The videos—”

He made a tut-tutting sound. “I told you. Silly girls doing silly things. That’s all.”

Liar.

It was as if he’d forgotten about her previous life. She’d played verbal gymnastics with people much more cunning than him. The kind who would be smart enough not to use the same password on their secret phone as they used on their usual one. “If that’s true, then why did you save them? And why hide the phone?”

“For insurance.”

“How? Even if the videos were a prank, they could be used to ruin you. I heard your voice on one.” She feared she would never forget what she’d heard. “Explain how you’ve protected yourself. Us.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone.” When she started to respond to that, he held up a hand and talked over her. “This discussion is over. I’ve told you what you need to know, and now you can stop worrying