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Julian . . .” I look up to find him gazing at me with a strange smile. “Why are we here?”
    “Can’t you guess, my pet?” he says softly, turning to face me. “We’re here to get married.”
    For a moment, all I can do is stare at him in mute shock. Then a nervous laugh escapes my throat. “You’re joking, right?”
    He lifts his eyebrows. “Joking? No, not at all.” He reaches for my hand again, and I feel him sliding something onto my left ring finger.
    My heart racing, I look down at my left hand in numb disbelief. The ring looks like something a Hollywood star might wear—a thin, diamond-encrusted band with a large, round stone sparkling in the center. It’s both delicate and ostentatious, and the fit is utterly perfect, as though it had been made just for me.
    The room fades in front of my eyes, spots of light dancing in the corners of my vision, and I realize that I literally stopped breathing for a few seconds. Desperately sucking in air, I look up at Julian, my entire body beginning to shake. “You . . . you want to marry me?” My voice comes out in a kind of horrified whisper.
    “Of course I do.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Why else would I bring you here?”
    I have no response to that; all I can do is stand there and stare at him, feeling like I’m hyperventilating.
    Marriage. Marriage to Julian .
    It simply doesn’t compute. Marriage and Julian are so far apart in my mind, they might as well be on opposite poles of the planet. When I think of marriage, it’s in the context of a pleasant, yet distant future—a future that involves a doting husband and two noisy children. In that picture, there is a dog and a house in the suburbs, soccer games and school picnics. There is no killer with the face of a fallen angel, no beautiful monster to make me scream in his arms.
    “I can’t marry you.” The words tumble out before I can think better of it. “I’m sorry, Julian, but I can’t.”
    His face turns black. In a flash, he’s on me, one arm wrapped around my waist, pressing me against him, and the other hand gripping my jaw. “You said you loved me.” His voice is soft and even, but I can feel the dark rage underneath. “Was that a lie?”
    “No!” Shaking, I hold Julian’s furious gaze, my hands pushing helplessly against his powerful chest. I can feel the weight of the ring on my finger, and it adds to my panic. I don’t know how to explain, how to make him understand something that I can barely comprehend myself. I want to be with Julian. I can’t live without him, but marriage is something else entirely, something that doesn’t belong in our twisted relationship. “I do love you! You know that—”
    “So why would you refuse?” he demands, his eyes dark with fury. His grip on my jaw tightens, his fingers biting into my skin.
    My eyes begin to burn. How can I explain my reluctance? How can I say that he’s not someone I can picture as my husband? That he’s part of a life I never imagined, never wanted, and that marrying him would mean giving up that vague, far-off dream of a normal future? “Why do you want to marry me?” I ask desperately. “Why do you want something so traditional? I’m already yours—”
    “Yes, you are.” He leans down until his face is mere inches from mine. “And I want a legal document to that effect. You will be my wife, and no one will be able to take you from me.”
    I stare at Julian, my chest tightening as I begin to understand. This is not a sweet, romantic gesture on his part. He’s not doing this because he loves me and wants to start a family. That’s not the way Julian operates. Marriage would legitimize his possession of me—it’s as simple as that. It would be a different form of ownership, a more permanent one . . . and something within me shudders at the very idea.
    “I’m sorry,” I say evenly, gathering my courage. “I’m not ready for this. Can we discuss it again at some point later?”
    His expression