Fierce King: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (L.A. Ruthless Series Book 1)
Fierce King: Chapter 2

I wandered around the huge house wondering how the hell I would ever learn to treat this place like a home. It was certainly beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Beautifully manicured, sprawling gardens full of brightly coloured flowers, and with a huge pool at its center.

Inside was just as dazzling. Tastefully decorated in palettes of cream, grey and gold. A huge sweeping marble staircase dominated the entrance hallway leading up to seven bedrooms and six bathrooms. It also boasted a games room, a gym and the biggest kitchen I had ever seen in my life.

But the place was so quiet – soulless even. There were staff in the house, Magda, the housekeeper and cook, and Jacob, the man who operated the gate and was also a driver, not to mention, dozens of armed guards. But they all seemed to live in the shadows, and every time I walked by, they avoided my gaze or slipped into another room.

It was as far removed from my tiny apartment back in New York as a place could be.

I loved living in the city. I loved the constant noise and the activity. I adored the hordes of people. No matter what time of the day or night it was, you were never alone in New York city.

My things had been delivered to the house earlier in the day, not that I had much – just some clothes, books, toiletries and a few personal belongings. I’d donated my furniture to goodwill. I’d had an idea that my eclectic, hand-me-down pieces wouldn’t exactly fit in an L.A mansion, and I hadn’t been wrong.

Every piece of furniture here seemed to fit perfectly, and it was all so elegant and beautiful. I found myself wondering if Alejandro had chosen any of the pieces himself, or whether he’d hired a fancy designer to choose them for him. I imagined it was the latter.

Without anyone to ask where I was supposed to sleep, I chose one of the spare bedrooms overlooking the pool. Once I’d put my things in there, it felt slightly more comforting. But I couldn’t help feeling like I was on a vacation rather than starting a whole new life.

I had always dreamed about the day I’d get married, or the day I’d move into a new place with my husband, or boyfriend. In my head they had been exciting and happy occasions, and nothing like today. All I felt was a deep sadness and a crushing sense of loneliness. There was an emptiness in my heart that I wasn’t sure I would ever fill here.

I found myself wandering through the tasteful gardens, but the place was so big and quiet, that it made me feel even more lonely. So, I made my way back to my newly acquired bedroom. Magda had told me that she’d prepared dinner and it was in the refrigerator whenever I was ready, but, unusually for me, I couldn’t face eating.

An hour later, I was lying on the bed reading a book when the door burst open and Alejandro stormed into the room.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing in here?’ he shouted.

I looked up at him, blinking in shock. Oh crap! Did this room belong to someone else? ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know …’ I stammered.

‘Does this look like the fucking master bedroom to you?’ he snarled.

‘What?’

‘You are my fucking wife, and you’ll sleep in the master suite,’ he hissed as he stalked towards me.

I threw my book onto the bed and jumped up. ‘Just because I’m your wife, doesn’t mean I have to sleep with you!’ I spat. ‘And if you’re expecting sex from me, then think again. I don’t even like you.’

He laughed out loud, not a friendly laugh, but a cruel, mocking one. ‘God, you are such a fucking child.’

I glared at him. I was only eight years younger than he was. Arrogant asshole!

‘You think you have to like someone to have sex with them? Listen, princess, you may be used to getting whatever you want when you snap your pretty little fingers, but that doesn’t work with me. And as for sex, I’ve never forced myself on a woman in my life, and I don’t intend to start now. There are plenty of women who would be more than happy to share my bed and I intend to take frequent advantage of them all.’

He stepped closer to me, until his body was only inches from mine and I felt the anger radiating from him in waves. He was a good foot taller than me and he towered over me.

‘But you are my fucking wife, and you will share my bed. Fortunately for you, I won’t be in it tonight, but when I get back to this house tomorrow, you and your things will be in the master bedroom where they belong. I will not have my staff fucking whispering about my new wife sleeping in one of the spare rooms. Do you understand me?’ he snarled at me, his teeth bared like some sort of rabid dog.

I felt my legs trembling, both with fear and something else that I couldn’t quite work out.

‘Okay,’ I whispered.

He glared at me, his dark brown eyes narrowed, and I felt like I might melt under the intensity of his gaze. I took a deep breath in through my nose and immediately regretted the decision because he smelled incredible. What the hell was that cologne he was wearing?

I felt my breath catch in my throat and made a faint, but very audible, choking noise. That seemed to satisfy him as his lips curled into a cruel smile. Then he turned on his heel and marched out of the door, leaving me a trembling mess in his wake.

As soon as he was out of the room I collapsed back onto the bed and sucked in a lungful of air.

I blinked back the tears as I thought about my old life in New York. My lovely neighbors, Jake and Gary on my left, and Mr. and Mrs. Polanski on my right. My best friend, Kelsey. My hair stylist, Jermaine, who always knew exactly how to tame my frizzy mop of curly hair.

I missed them all so much.

What the hell had I done?