Shackled (The Lord Series) by Carlos

I get Spencer down from the counter, and seconds later, he's out the door. Diva goes after him.

Spencer didn't like the pie. He's not wrong about Grandma Khloe being a better chef than me. Why do I even bother making food when Mose loves spending his entire day in the kitchen? I sit at the table, defeated.

Because I wanted to make something nice for everyone. What if all the food I made turned out bad? I should throw it away and make some sandwiches instead. Rueben brought in some junk food the other day. No one will say no to chips and Cheetos.

I'm sure there's some frozen pizza in the freezer. Even ice cream. Everyone loves ice cream.

I put my arms on the table and bury my face in them.

Why did I agree to have a picnic? It's not too late to order takeout.

I groan loudly.novelbin

"What's wrong?"

Rueben's voice makes me jerk my head up.

"I didn't hear you enter." I was too busy drowning in self-pity.

"I can tell. But you didn't answer my question. Why do you look like you want to cry for an entire week without stopping."

Because my child hates my cooking. It's the end of the world! For me, at least.

When did I become so dramatic? Is it because of the baby? I don't remember being so hormonal when I was pregnant with Spencer. Maybe because I was on the edge all the time since my father had me live in a small apartment all by myself. I tried to escape many times, but it was impossible. He put bars on all the windows and had men guard the front door day and night.

My chin trembles as I reply, "Spencer hates my food."

Rueben looks at me with an amused expression. I swear that if he laughs, I'll throw the pie at him.

I know it's stupid to be upset over something so stupid, but I can't help the way I feel.

"You are not actually upset over food?" Rueben tries to figure out if I'm serious or not because I never give a shit about small things. But he should give me a break, I'm pregnant and hormonal, and I'm still waiting for my dream proposal. I'm starting to get resentful because I have been hinting about the proposal and ring for months now, and the only reply I get is, "Soon. Be patient."

Malta was my dream destination, and I was sure they were going to propose there, but then we found Spencer, and hours later, Asa attacked us.

I bury my face back in my arms. "Leave me alone."

Rueben comes to me, scoops me up in his arms, and sits on the chair with me in his lap.

"Are you being hormonal again?" he asks.

Again?

"Do you want to die? Don't you know how deadly it is to upset a pregnant woman?" I hiss.

Rueben dips his head and brushes his lips against mine. "I'll take my chances with you." I snort. "Maybe you will use your fingernails again on me. Leave your mark all over my skin."

Is this Rueben's brilliant idea to make me feel better? Because so far, he's making things worse. "The only time I did it, you beat me with your belt," I remind him.

There's a faint scar on his cheek from how hard I scratched him on the night they brought me to the farm.

All amusement disappears from Rueben's face. "I shouldn't have done that. I swear, Olly, if I had known the truth...I would have never touched you. Not like that."

"But you did, so there's no point talking about what ifs." A strained laugh leaves me. "I promised myself for years that I'd never love again, and the first chance I get, I fall for my tormentors. Talk about Stockholm syndrom." Rueben presses his lips to my temple. "You love us, and we love you. Not because of Stockholm Syndrom or some other shit, but because we were meant to be. All six of us."

We are together because I decided to love them not because they deserve it, but because I earned the right to be happy, but I don't point that out. Besides, even if I leave them, what guarantee do I have that I'll find someone who would not only love me but accept my children and see them as their own? For better or for worse, all my men see Spencer as their own, not only Tyson.

"As for Spencer, he's a kid, and it's his job to hate food."

Maybe Rueben is not as dense as I initially thought. Although...Rueben is known for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time but rarely the other way around. "You think so?"

"All kids are like this. How many times didn't you say you didn't like a dish and refused to eat it?" Rueben asks.

I chew my bottom lip. "Never. Unless I wanted to go to bed without dinner after being scolded or beaten."

Once, I refused to eat liver, and I wasn't allowed to have anything else until I finished everything that was on the plate. I stayed at the table the entire night. After I caved in and ate the liver, I was sick for several days. One of the nastiest things I have ever eaten.

After swearing under his breath, Rueben adds, "Let's not think about shitty memories."

I'm not the one who brought up the past. But I do agree that it's better to talk about something else.

Rueben has me stand. After looking at my clothes for a bit, he asks, "Do you remember the lace dress I bought for you?"

"The one from the thrift store?" I ask, remembering the gorgeous dress Rueben found for me. I didn't have a chance to wear it since he bought it.

"That one," Rueben mutters.

His cheeks turn flustered. Is he ashamed to buy clothes for me from the thrift store? With how much consumption is happening around the world, I don't want to be part of the problem but try to find solutions. Rueben looks so adorable with his cheeks all red. Damn. I never thought I'd use adorable and Rueben in the same sentence.

In a more cheerful tone, he adds, "How about you put it on?"

I cock my head. "For the picnic?" Rueben nods. "What's wrong with the shorts and t-shirt I'm wearing?"

Rueben stands. His hands cup my cheeks. "I love seeing you in dresses. Besides, I never saw you wear that one."

"Fine," I give in. "I'll put that on. But if it gets dirty, don't blame me."

Rueben narrows his eyes before he drops another bombshell. "Can you also do your make-up and hair?"

What the hell had gotten into him? He is not one to care about how I dress. He only wants to know how to get me naked in record time each time his dick needs attention.

"I would for a date not for a meal with the family."

Rueben wraps his fingers around my neck. "You better do what you're told if you know what's good for you."

He sounds like he wants to get me in bed and show me a good time.

My breath quivers. Not with fear but with anticipation. "Yes, my Lord."

A low growl leaves Rueben's throat. "Olivia," he warns me.