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“Can we leave?” I whisper so only Alaric can hear.
“Not yet.” He shakes his head without even looking at me. His jaw is set in a tight line, and his eyes are full of anger. Why is he so angry? Does he hate being married to me that much?
Tears prick at my eyes at the realization that this is my life now. I’m married to a man who doesn't love me and who possibly even hates me. A man who kills people for a living and wants me drugged so he can fuck me any way he wants to.
With every step I take, I feel more and more like I’m being led to slaughter. Alaric leads me to the dining room, where the table is already filled with a buffet of food that looks like it can feed an army.
Alessandro pulls out a chair for me, pretending to be a gentleman of sorts, and I have to hold back a snort at his gesture. I force a smile and take the seat. Alaric sits down on my right side, and unfortunately, Alessandro takes the one on my left and the head of the table. Savio sits across from me, and the other two men sit next to him. I don’t know either one of their names, but I recognize one of them from the other night. He was holding a camera up, videotaping me. A shudder runs down my spine at the memory I rather want to forget.
Even with Alaric acting as he has been, I want to scoot closer to him, nestle into his side, and bury my face into his chest. No matter the way he treats me, he is still my only protector here, the only one who has shown me kindness.
“I don’t know if your new husband has told you, but you look delightful today,” Alessandro compliments. “Your tits look great in the dress.”
“Thank you,” I murmur as he loads my plate with an array of food.
“You better eat up. You’ll need your strength for your wedding night.” He snickers. “Knowing Alaric, I’m sure he has plenty planned for tonight. I know I do.”
Bile rises in my throat at his comment. Does Alaric plan on staying here? Oh my god, he is going to share me with them tonight. The savory smell of the food in front of me turns rotten, and I have to turn my head and concentrate on not throwing up.
“Eat,” Alaric adds, making me even more uncomfortable.
With trembling fingers, I grab the fork and start eating tiny bites of the food on my plate. I force myself to eat as much as I can, chewing every morsel thoroughly and taking small sips of water between.
By the time everyone else is done, my plate is still half full, but thankfully, no one says anything, and one of the maids takes my plate away.
“Time for your wedding gift,” Alessandro announces after the table is cleared. A moment later, one of the guards sets a neatly wrapped package on the table in front of me.
It looks normal, with white wrapping paper and a silver bow on top, but knowing who bought it makes me wonder if the inside will be as normal. Hesitantly, I unwrap the gift and take the lid off as if I’m expecting a bomb inside.
What I find instead is a silver collar. For a split second, I think he is getting us a dog, and this is merely a clue, but then I remember who he is. The collar is for me.
“That is so you know who owns you. The gift on the bottom is for when you misbehave,” he explains. “Go on, look at the bottom of the box.”
Grinding my teeth, I take out the collar and the cushion it sits on. Below it, I find something else silver, a butt plug, and it’s not small either. It’s huge.
“Both come with a remote,” Alessandro explains excitedly, “With one push of a button, it sends an electric shock to either her neck or her ass. Trust me, she’ll do whatever you want after you do this a few times.” He laughs, and the rest of the men at the table join in… including Alaric.
My blood runs cold, and for the first time today, I feel just as uncomfortable having Alaric by my side as Alessandro.
“Shall we try it out?” one of the men at the table suggests.
“She’s done well today. I’ll keep this one for when she actually misbehaves,” Alaric tells them as he picks up the collar to inspect it. “She won’t be able to break this?”
“No, once it’s on, you can only remove it with the code you set yourself. There is no way she’ll get it off.”
“Good to know. She hasn’t tried to run yet, but I’m sure she will eventually. This will come in handy.” Alaric sets the collar back in the box.
Cold sweat runs down my back as fear sets in, real bone-crushing fear. That terror only reaches a new height when Savio chimes into the conversation.
“Alaric, come have a cigar with me at the pool. I’m sure Alessandro will find a way to entertain your new bride.”
No, no, no. Instinctively, I grab Alaric’s forearm. Digging my nails into his suit-covered arm, I plead with him to stay without saying a word. That hope is crushed when he grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away.
“A cigar sounds great,” he says nonchalantly and gets up from his chair. He doesn’t even look at me. “Behave yourself, Monroe,” he warns before turning around and walking away, leaving me behind more scared and confused than ever.
I watch Savio and Alaric disappear from the room and out to the terrace. The glass door closes behind them, and dread pools in my gut. They walk away until I can’t see either one of them anymore, and I feel like someone just died. I’m just not sure who? Did I lose Alaric, or did I lose myself?
All thoughts evade my mind when a hand wraps around the back of my neck. Alessandro’s fingers tighten as he forces me to turn back to face him.
“Oh sweet Monroe, we’re going to have so much fun together.”
My chest heaves, and I feel like I can't get enough air into my lungs. How could Alaric leave me with him? How can he break that fragile trust we had built? I feel utterly betrayed and abandoned. But above all, I’m scared of what’s to come.
