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Aleksey shrugged on his dress shirt, his fingers deftly buttoning the buttons. “That will be fine.”
That was how it was between us. At best cordial, otherwise cold and unfeeling for a newlywed couple. The only time the ice thawed between us was when he held me under him. A pit of worry formed in my stomach.
Was this what the rest of my life would be?
Aleksey finished dressing and slipped on his shoes. “Have a good day, Elia.”
“You too,” I muttered softly as he walked out of the bedroom. Once he was gone and I was alone, I slid back under the covers, gazing blankly at the ceiling.
I reached for my phone and dialed Lana’s number. Other than a few texts, I hadn’t been in touch with her since my wedding day. She had been worried, of course, and constantly asked if I wanted to take her up on her original offer. If only she knew of how addicting Aleksey could be.
“You’re alive,” she said by way of greeting. “I was starting to think you were at the bottom of the Chicago River. How’s everything going?”
“Well, it’s definitely going.” I sighed as I swung my legs off the bed and walked into the living room. In the corner, Aleksey’s men stood like statues, pretending not to pay attention to me. But I knew they were waiting to report anything unusual back to him.
In many ways, I was still a prisoner. No matter how good the sex was.
“Remind me to never go down that path,” she said.
“If I’m being honest,” I sighed. “It’s a two out of five.”
“Only two?” Lana mused, humor lacing her voice. “Is he a bad fuck or something?”
“No, that’s the thing.” I sighed, leaning against the wall. “That’sallwe ever do, Lana. But he doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t kiss me. It just feels…impersonal. Like I’m a whore, and not his wife. You know what I mean?”
And there it is…I thought. That was really what bothered me every time Aleksey pulled out of me. That was the source of my emptiness. The source of my shame. I was married to Aleksey, but I would never have his love.
Do I even want his love?
She was silent on the other end as she processed my words. Finally, she asked, “Is he hurting you?”
“No,” I quickly replied. “No, he’s not hurting me.”At least, not physically.
“Did he ever give you a reason?”
“No,” I answered, as I paced the floor. I leaned against the island. “I just wish it was different.”
“Elia,” Lana said gently. “You were forced into marriage to a man whom you swore to hate. It’s already different enough.”
She wasn’t lying. I wassupposed tohate Aleksey. No, Ididhate him. He had butchered my brother, the one person that I cared about over anyone else. The one person who meant the world to me. Now, each night, he used me like a whore.
And like a whore, I allowed him to. Because what else could I do? There was no way I could defy him. And even if I wanted to, my body betrayed me each time he so much as ran his finger over my skin. A single caress was all it took for my legs to slowly part for him. Almost as if he’d conditioned me in these last three weeks to respond like that. Was this all just another part of his plan? Would this all cease once his child was growing inside of me? Would I be left to my misery alone once I gave him what he wanted?
I didn’t want to think about that.
“You’re right,” I said stiffly. “I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t let him even touch me. But Lana…”
“Yeah?”
I had to tell her the truth. I couldn’t hide that from her. “I like it,” I whispered. There, I had said it. I had said it and made it real.
This time, her silence was even longer than the last. Finally, she sighed. “Oh, honey…I really wish I could get you out of this. Have you found anything at all that I could use? Because liking being fucked by your husband isn’t exactly a winning argument I can use.”
I let out a little laugh at her remark, feeling a hint of life returning to me. “Don’t worry about me, Lana. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s literally my job to worry about you,” Lana corrected me. “Well, more correctly, to worry about your husband. Never forget who he is, Elia. All that good dicking won’t change the fact that he’s a black-hearted bastard through and through.”
“I know, Lana,” I replied. “Trust me. I know.”
