Sixty Days To Love My Enemy
"So here's how this is going to work. You have sixty days. Sixty days to fall in love with me, to accept your role as my wife, and to give me an heir."
I opened my mouth, but he continued before I could form words.
"Or I take what I want anyway. Your choice."
Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click that somehow sounded louder than if he'd slammed it.
I sank down onto the floor among the scattered cosmetics and broken glass, my white dress pooling around me, and for the first time since my parents died, I let myself cry. Not the quiet tears I'd shed at their funeral while cameras flashed. These were ugly, desperate sobs that shook my entire body.
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