I turn to leave before I can say anything else I might regret. I’m not expecting him to stop me. So whenhis hand clamps down on my arm and he swings me back around to face him, I feel a sharp sense ofwhiplash.
“You can leave when I f*****g dismiss you,” he growls, his face only inches from mine.
“I’m not anyone’s lapdog. Especially not yours.”
He pushes me against one of the moss walls surrounding the smaller alcoves of the garden. “No, butyou are my wife. And if you don’t start listening, then I’m going to have to break you in.”
“I get it,” I snarl at him. “We all f*****g get it: you’re the big, strong don who never loses. But if youexpect me to be your obedient little wife, then you picked the wrong girl. And if you think you canever tame me, then you’ve got another thing coming.”
“
