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Without another word, he turns and tugs me along behind him.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he heads for the door, excitement blooming in my chest at the thought that I’ll finally get to leave the bedroom.
“Dinner.”
He opens the door and pulls me out into the hall. His legs are much longer than mine, and I have a hard time keeping up with his large strides as he drags me through the hallways and down the stairs.
Why is he in such a hurry?
By the time we get to the dining room, I realize that we are completely alone in this large house, or at least I don’t see or hear anyone else. Peering at the huge mahogany table that seats twelve, I find that it is already set…for two. There are covered bowls and trays in the center of the table, making me wonder if someone prepared this and left or if Julian made this for us.
He pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit down. When I take the seat, he pushes the chair in and starts to uncover all the food. Steam billows from each dish and an array of savory flavors fill the air.
Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Did you cook this?”
Julian looks like he wants to laugh. “Do I look like a chef?”
“No… I just… never mind,” I mumble, my cheeks heating. I feel embarrassed, and all for asking a simple question.
My soon to be husband takes the serving spoon and starts filling my plate with a little bit of everything before filling his own.
“Thank you,” I say, more out of reflex than anything else. I shouldn’t be thanking him for anything. I should be taking my steak knife and stabbing him in the throat.
Grabbing the fork, I pierce a small potato, imagining it’s one of Julian’s eyeballs. I don’t really feel like eating, but I know refusing is futile. He would somehow make me do it regardless. Plus, not eating will ultimately work against me. I need my strength to escape, so if eating gets me there, then I’ll eat.
“Would you care for some wine?” he asks casually.
“No, thanks.” There is no way I’m drinking a drop of alcohol. I’m already at a major disadvantage. I’m not going to add anything to make me even weaker.
“Suit yourself. I got you something,” he announces, grabbing something from his slack pocket. “Put this on, and don’t take it off, ever.” The tone of his voice carries a finality to it. I look up from my plate, and at the small object he is holding between two large fingers. It’s tiny compared to his huge palm—a silver band with a shiny diamond cradled in the center.
“How romantic,” I say under my breath while reaching for the engagement ring.
“It’s either this around your finger or a collar around your neck? I figured you’d prefer this.” He shrugs, and I want to throw the stupid ring in his face.
Instead, I nod in agreement and slide the ring onto my ring finger. Of course, it fits perfectly. How does he do this? Did he have someone measure me from head to toe while I was sleeping? I wouldn’t be surprised, to be honest.
Trying not to look at the ring, I continue eating, pretending like I don’t find the ring beautiful. The last thing I want is for him to assume I like something he got me.
For a few minutes, neither one of us says anything. I want to ignore him just as much as the sparkling diamond decoration on my ring finger, but I’m not able to do either. His presence is impossible to ignore, and the diamond glitters with every tiny movement. It’s annoying, all of it.
“Why did you get me this ring? It’s not like anyone will see it.”
“I will see it,” he snaps. Then he continues in a slightly softer tone. “Besides, you won’t be locked in the bedroom forever. Just until I can be sure you won’t disobey me. How long that will take is purely up to you.”
“Of course…”
We eat the rest of the meal in silence. When I can’t take another bite, I place the fork next to my plate and lean back in my chair. My stomach is full, and I don’t think I could take another bite if I tried.
“Dessert?”
“No, I’m full.” The words have barely left my lips before Julian gets up from his chair. Grabbing me by my upper arm, he pulls me to my feet and starts guiding me out of the dining room.
Immediately, I’m alarmed. Why is he so eager to get me back to the bedroom? I thought he wanted to wait until after we were married. Maybe he changed his mind?
“Why are you shaking?” His words take me by surprise as we reach the stairs.
