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He was my husband.
"You’ve never been with a man before, have you?" he asked. I shook my head.
"Never," I replied. He let out a low groan, as though the thought of it aroused him.
"Then it’s normal to be nervous," he told me, reaching up to stroke my cheek. His hand burned against my skin, my jaw clenching as I tried to control my reaction.
"I’m not … It’s not that," I blurted out. "I’m sick. I told you."
My words came out sharper than I intended. His eyes flashed with anger, and I felt my stomach drop. Crap, if I pissed him off …
"I’m a patient man, sweetheart," he told me, his voice dropping to a threatening new low. "But I’m not going to wait forever. You’re my wife. You remember that, don’t you?"
I nodded, not wanting to argue with him. He smiled and leaned forward to kiss my cheek again. I wished I could shove him off, but any other demonstration of my repulsion might be enough to ruin all of this, and I didn’t even want to know what might have happened if he decided I wasn’t playing my role of his wife with the appropriate aplomb.
"Because I need an heir," he reminded me, squeezing hold of me tight, digging his fingers into my skin like he wanted me to remember that part of the deal. I had done everything I could not to focus on that part, but clearly, he wasn’t going to let me forget it.
"And we need to start trying sooner rather than later," he added. "You understand that. I trust that you do."
He was daring me to defy him right now. Was he getting off on this, having me nod along to him and agree with him when he knew I wanted to run away and never look back again as long as I lived? He must have been. It must have been exciting to him, to force me to twist around to his demands, no matter how monstrous they were.
"Good girl," he told me, pinching my cheek in his hand. "Your father would be proud of you."
I bit back a sob. My father—what would my father think of me if he could see me now? I was no better than a whore, sold off to a man to protect the rest of the family. I knew I had done the right thing, but the sheer disgust in my system right now was telling me otherwise.
He turned and stalked away from me, clearly frustrated, and I pressed my lips together to keep the tears from falling before he was out of sight. I didn’t want him to see me cry. He probably would have gotten off on it, the sick bastard; he seemed like the type who would.
I didn’t know how much longer I had before I would have to give him what he wanted from me.
Or what it was going to do to me when I did.
Chapter Four – Alex
"It’s been a long time since I heard from the Caroni family," Gregor remarked, as I followed him into the entrance hall of his lavish mansion. I glanced around, trying to spot her, some sign of her, but there was nothing.
"Well, I’m trying to reconnect with my father’s old business partners," I explained, hoping it would be enough to convince him. Gregor cocked an eyebrow at me.
"I’m not sure I would ever have called your father a business partner," he replied. I bristled slightly. Yeah, because my father would never in a million years have associated with someone like Gregor; he might have been in a dark side of this business, but what Gregor did was so much worse. The shit he was involved with, it was far bleaker than anything I had ever even imagined touching. Even being here was making my skin crawl, knowing what he had done, what he was capable of—and what he likely thought I was here to do, as well.
"I want to change that," I told him, making sure to present a good front to him so he’d have no reason to question what I was saying right now. He slapped a hand onto my shoulder.
"A sensible move," he replied, and his phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached in to pull it out, scanning the message in front of him.
"Give me a moment," he remarked. "I have to take this. Make yourself at home. There's a drink cabinet in the library. I’ll meet you there."
"No problem," I replied, and I watched as he headed down the corridor at the far side of the entrance hall. I waited till he was out of sight and then turned my attention to the rest of the mansion.
This was it. This was my chance. If I was going to find her, it had to be now. It was already odd that she hadn’t come to greet me. Usually, when people like Gregor were making a new business deal, they came out with everything they had to show off, and that included their wives. A beautiful young thing like Morgan, she should have been there by his side, but clearly, she was keeping her distance. But why?
The library, he’d said I should meet him in the library. I just needed to figure out where that was, and how far I could stray from it before I drew some kind of attention. I didn’t want to make it obvious that I was searching for her; I needed to be more careful than that, but I didn’t want to waste my time here.
I hurried down the corridor, glancing around for any sign of her—a streak of blonde hair, the sound of her laugh, anything. But the place was eerily quiet. It didn’t feel like they were just a couple of weeks out from a wedding here, with all the excitement that should have come with it. No, it felt funerial, like someone had died.
And maybe that’s exactly how Morgan felt.
The door to the library was marked at the far end of the corridor, and I made my way towards it, planning on grabbing a drink to make this meeting a little easier on myself. I pushed open the door, stepped inside, and when I saw who was standing there, I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Morgan?"
