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I agreed, nodding my head.
The men in her life failed her. She was nothing but a commodity to her brother and her husband was less than the scum at the bottom of my shoe. No one had protected the girl.
And though I was no savior, I wanted to protect her. I blamed it on the tender spot I carried for my sister, Elizabeth. She reminded me of her.
Slipping into the vehicle as Elijah opened the door for me, I turned to my brother, “Put that shit out before you get in my car.”
Silas chuckled and dropped the stick to the ground, stomping it out with his feet before he rounded the car.
“Home, Elijah.”
“Yes, boss.”
Chapter Five
MIA
Icaught a glimpse of my future husband leaving. His broad shoulders were highlighted in the dark suit he wore while the tattoos engraved at the base of his neck were clear to see.
I found myself exhaling as I watched them leave the restaurant; his presence was overwhelming.
I sipped some water to wet my chapped lips, rewinding what happened at dinner.
He seemed…almost angry that my brother allowed Ilya to hurt me. It wasn't what I expected. I thought he would applaud his comrade from "breaking me in".
His words weren’t said with any sort of malice or pitch to his voice nor did he use any violence to show his strength. Yet, it was clear that power covered him like second skin.
My brother’s non-stop tapping of his foot reinforced what I thought. He was one to be feared; one that shouldn’t be trifled with. It wasn’t baseless rumors spouted from the mouths of civilians.
Therefore, I listened for his non-verbal warning. I wouldn’t let another wolf in sheep’s clothing fool me.
Ilya prepared me. Made men were cruel and no soft words would change that. He was simply buying his time until he got me alone.
Just like Ilya.
And then he would pounce.
This time I would be ready. I wouldn’t hesitate.
***
I heard Radley muttering to someone outside my door. No doubt it was about my eating habits.
It had been days since I refused to swallow anything until my brother called off this engagement. A call my brother said he was never going to make.
He was betting on me caving but he would lose.
My brother told Galdur that Ilya “beat me”. That was but a fraction of what my dear, dead husband did to me. He humiliated me, raped me, ravaged me- the hidden scars. To simply say, he beat me was an understatement of the century. One which proved that my brother knew little of what I endured those last three years.
And for that reason, I would not cave, instead, I was fully prepared to die of hunger if it came down to it. That is how much I was against this marriage and another man laying waste to my dignity.
“Mia, you have to eat,” Michael said, knocking at my door, trying to push it open but I had barricaded my room with my wardrobe to stop him or anyone from coming in.
I didn’t doubt my brother would come into my room, and force-feed me so I was plump for him to carry me to be slaughter.
“Leave me alone,” I whispered, my headache and dry throat, permitting me from shouting any louder. My brother was annoyed by my behavior, but I could care less. I had to take these drastic measures so he would understand how I felt. Realize how badly I didn’t want to marry another man in the business of drugs and murder.
“Stop behaving like a brat and eat your fucking food,” he shouted, this time twice as loud, his hand aggressively hitting the door. It shook the floor and by extension my head, causing me to squeeze my eyes tightly until he stopped.
