"Don't call me that," Andrew said and Beatrice's smile faltered for a second before it returned.
"Okay. I understand. It's okay. I ordered some food for both of us. I know you married me because your grandfather said so, but we can at least live together as good friends, right?" Beatrice asked, hope evident in her eyes.
Andrew watched the woman play pretend wife and then twist it in the form of friendship that she ruined long ago with her betrayal, and couldn't help but chuckle darkly.
"Do you even know what it means?" Andrew asked.
Beatrice pursed her lips.
"Why are you talking like that, Andrew? I know you didn't want to marry me. You made it painfully clear but must you be so harsh?" Beatrice asked.
Andrew smiled, the kind that didn't reach his eyes before he closed the distance between them in large steps.
His hand reached straight for her throat and he wrapped his fingers around her throat, anger brimming his eyes.
