Page 138 of King of Pride

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the man you married.”

Ivan's voice rose again, his anger returning.

“The man who hits you. The man who abuses you. That's the man you chose to marry?”

His gaze dropped briefly to her wrists, lingering on the faint marks he had noticed the last time he had seen her.

“I saw the marks around your wrists the last time I came here.” His jaw tightened as he looked back into her eyes. “He abused you. He hurt you. Yet you’re furious with me because of one fucking slap?”

Rose stared at him, her lips parting in disbelief.

For a moment, she looked as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Then anger flashed across her face, replacing the shock. Her shoulders stiffened, and her hands curled into fists at her sides.

“I asked him to do it to me,” she said, her voice sharp with anger.

Ivan's brows drew together.

He stared at her as though she had just said something completely insane. A disbelieving scoff escaped him, and he shook his head once.

“What?” His voice rose as disbelief hardened his features. “You asked him to hit you?” He took a step toward her, his eyes narrowing. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

Rose let out a frustrated breath and threw her hands up for a moment before letting them fall again.

“Those weren’t marks of abuse, Ivan!” she snapped. “Those were marks from what a husband and wife do in bed!”

The words hung heavily between them.

Ivan went completely still.

His expression emptied of anger as if someone had suddenly pulled the emotion from his face. His eyes remained fixed on Rose, but the fury that had been burning in them moments ago slowly disappeared.

He blinked once.

Then again.

His gaze dropped instinctively toward her wrists before returning to her face.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

His lips parted slightly as the meaning of her words finally sank in. The tension in his shoulders shifted, and the realization slowly spread across his features.

Rose saw the look in his eyes and let out a bitter laugh.

“Do you even see how selfish you are, or do I need to hold up a mirror for you?”

Her voice trembled with anger.

“You don't care about me. You don't care whether I'm happy or whether I'm being treated well. You only care about what you want and what you need to do get me back.”

She stepped closer, her eyes burning into his.

“If I really were being abused, you were ready to leave me there just to make me come back to you. You were willing to let me suffer at the hands of another man if it meant making me regret choosing him over you.”

Ivan had no answer.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. The accusation struck too close to the truth, leaving him staring at her with a troubled, wounded expression.