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I felt betrayed, like always. I loathed myself.
I hate you.
He pressed his body over mine, his hips thrusting against me with the movement of his fingers.
“I want to hear you scream.”
I won’t.
The torture continued, and I knew he wouldn’t stop until I let go. So I did.
I let go, letting my mind open to feel whatever he was giving me. Bile made its way up my throat and I fought against the urge to vomit.
Don’t.
My lips trembled as more tears fell, the pillow now wet with my pain.
Finally, my body spasmed, my legs shaking and my mind shutting.
I gave him what he wanted.
I hate you.
He smirked, licking his fingers. “Perfect.” His eyes went between my legs, watching.
I let out a small breath, feeling my shame dripping down the inside of my thighs.
It was all that was left of me.
Shame.
I hate you. But I hate myself too.
I laid there, letting my mind swirl with dizziness. Black spots appeared in front of my eyes, and I tried to shake it away.
His body covered mine again as I stared up at the ceiling. He entered my body with a single hard thrust. Hard enough to hurt, my body jolting with agony.
He thrust in and out, not for my pleasure. But his.
And I let him.
I surrendered underneath my husband.
Time passed, the seconds flew by, the minutes crawled, and finally, he fell beside me. My eyes closed, knowing this was the end.
I hate you.
Relief filled me when I felt him getting up. The bed shifted and then nothing.
I waited as my body ached. So much pain. My thighs hurt, and my core felt like glass was cutting through me. The marks over my body left a dull pain, one that was still vibrating through my mind.
When my eyes opened, he had already left the room.
Relief. Tears of relief and happiness.
Even with my body violated and my soul tortured, I cried silent tears of happiness.
He took something, but in the end, I had won.
I didn’t scream. He didn’t hear my screams.
He lost yet again.
I hate you.
Finally pulling the courage deep within me, I got off the bed. My legs shook, my body almost falling to the floor.
Holding on to the bed, I steadied myself, but it hurt too much. My knees met the ground as my body weakened.
I crawled to the bathroom, each movement causing jolts of agony through my body. My muscles protested, but I still crawled. In the bathroom, with the help of the counter, I stood in front of the mirror. I wasn’t surprised with what I saw.
It was a sight I saw every day.
Teeth marks. Hand marks. Marks that looked like he had clawed at my skin. Some were deep red. Others already turning purple.
Blood dripping from open wounds that he left with his teeth. Blood coating the scratches left on my body.
My eyes drifted lower, following every piece he left me. My gaze stopped between my thighs.
Blood.
My panties were in shreds, bloodied. He made me bleed. He left me bleeding. It wasn’t new. Just another day living my nightmare.
The red represented my humiliation. A fitting color.
I hate you.
Refusing to look into the mirror anymore, refusing to face my shame any longer, I walked into the shower.
Sitting against the wall, I curled into myself, letting the raining water wash away my shame. After a long time, I walked out.
My body was sensitive to the towel, and I winced as my long dress covered my body. My skin felt scratched raw, my body aching with every step as I walked out of the bathroom.
My feet took me slowly toward the chair, the one facing the window. The sun was going to sleep, the sky now a mixture of orange, yellow, and pink.
Another beauty…in the darkness of my world.
The tears were long gone as I sat down, holding my knitting cloth and needle in my hand. Watching the sunset, I resumed my knitting.
As if nothing happened.
As if everything was perfect.
I was the perfect wife.
He was the perfect husband.
We were a perfect lie.
Chapter 4
Konstantin
My men followed me out, their steps close to mine but still behind. Just the way it should be. The harsh winter air hit me hard in the face, and I winced.
Fucking Russia and its winter.
“Are you ready?” Valentin asked, his voice ruining my mood further. Always yapping. Maybe I should shut his mouth for him. Shove a block of snow in his face or something.
Keep dreaming, the devil currently perched on my shoulder laughed. My lips curled up in distaste, and I almost shooed him away, but that would look weird.
Shooing away something that wasn’t even there. My men would think me crazy.
Maybe I was. Living with Valentin Solonik for a year had driven me crazier than when I was living with Alessio.
Crazy to say, but I almost missed the poor bastard.
