Chapter Seventeen

Present

I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel his warm hand run down the side of my body.

It has been three days since I traded my freedom with my best friend, Summer’s safety. Two days since I demanded him to take me to the gala. And since then, I’ve been forced to have proper meals despite my lack of appetite, have to make sure I’m following a healthy diet to improve my health because it’s one of his conditions.

The days are exhausting, with his men constantly around, monitoring my health and keeping an eye on every move I make. But somehow, I manage.

The daylight hours are easier where I can wear a mask to get through. I’ve done this before—followed the same pattern, day after day. Lived a life that was simple, predictable. Boring.

But it’s the nights that break me.

Every night, without fail, he comes to me. He takes me in his arms, and I can feel the weight of his presence, both comforting and suffocating. No matter how much I try to fake sleep, the second he presses me to his chest, my body gives me away. A soft gasp, a shiver, the goosebumps on my skin—he knows. He always knows. And I can’t escape it. Can’t escape him.

But he never calls me out. Never rubs it in. Just holds me until I fall asleep. He doesn’t make love to me either. Tonight is no different.

I bite my lip hard when his hand slips under my silky nightgown, tracing the skin of my quivering stomach before pulling my body to his bare chest.

This time, I am successful in swallowing the gasp. Then he shifts behind me, pulling me flush and when his chest hair grazes against my exposed back, my whole body shivers.

As usual, he knows I’m awake. And as usual, he doesn’t comment on it. Burying his face in my nape, he releases a long breath as if he’s been yearning to do this all day.

As I lie there, I can hear his steady breaths, feel the warmth of his body against mine. His gentleness feels contradictory to his own actions. And I hate myself for wanting these stolen moments of solace in his arms.

There’s a twisted comfort in his touch. It’s the only time I feel truly alive, even if it’s under the most twisted circumstances. I’ve become a prisoner to my own desires, a captive of my conflicting emotions.

The days may be a constant struggle, but at least they allow me to maintain some semblance of control. At night, in his arms, control slips away, and I become a puppet dancing to his tune. It’s a torment I endure, a torment that threatens to consume me entirely.

But I must find a way out. I must gather the strength to break free from this twisted cycle, to reclaim my life, and to face whatever consequences lie ahead. For now, I’ll endure the days and suffer through the nights, but I won’t lose hope.

The charity gala is tomorrow, my first in a long while.

I miss Dad so much. He was my rock. Especially during social affairs like this. It’s been over a year since I last laid eyes on him, heard the comforting timbre of his voice, and felt the reassuring warmth of his presence in my life.

I still remember the heaviness of disappointment in his eyes. He told me he couldn’t condone my choice, that I was throwing my life away for someone who was unworthy. He tried everything to convince me to reconsider, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine a life without the man I love, the man who completes me in every way.

He then asked me the hardest question of my life. Him or Damian. And he was deeply hurt when I chose Damian over him.

There are nights when I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he ever thinks of me. Does he regret how we drifted apart as much as I do? Or has he somehow moved on, burying the hurt and disappointment?

I will reach out to him. Once I figure out a way to escape, I will reach out to dad and beg for his forgiveness. Right now, it’s too big a risk to take. Damian is unpredictable. He’s far more dangerous than I thought. When he threatened to hurt Summer, and his own guards. I realized how dangerous he can be.

He may have allowed me to go out and given me permission to talk to my best friend but deep down, I know it’s only temporary.

For their sakes, I have to stay away. The danger lies not in the world around me, but in the very man I’ve chosen to spend my life with. My husband, with his temper and the darkness that lurks beneath his facade, is a threat that I cannot allow to touch those I love.

Summer and dad deserve a life free from the horrors that have become my reality. They deserve peace, happiness, and safety. And I cannot provide that as long as I remain entangled in this toxic web of a marriage.

If I allow them to be close, I’m exposing them to a danger they never signed up for. I will occasionally call Summer so she won’t worry but I won’t attempt to meet her. Not anytime soon.

Dad will have to wait. Damian hates him. And if he found out I contacted Dad, he would never allow me to use my phone again.

I fall into a restless sleep, my thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind. It was the kind where your subconscious mind haunts you with twisted scenarios that makes it hard to fathom whether you’re dreaming or are trapped in a never-ending loop of nightmares.

When I finally stir, my tired eyes open to the morning light. The room is bathed in soft, golden light. It takes a moment for my disoriented mind to register the emptiness beside me.

He’s gone, as usual, off to work with the first light of dawn. He never stayed longer than that except for the time I witnessed his night terror.

And as much as I want to find out about his past, I won’t. It’s for the best this way. Because it saves me the embarrassment of facing him in the mornings after sleeping in his arms every night.

I quickly shower and get changed into a white long-sleeve blouse and a brown faux flared skirt. Next, I slip on brown slingback pumps, put on diamond studs in my ears, and fasten a watch around my wrist.

I dress meticulously, as I always do. I select my attire, ensuring it meets the expected standards. Dressing to perfection has become my routine.

I exit the master bedroom and descend the staircase. The voices coming from the parlor makes me frown.

As I step into the room, I’m taken aback by the sight of hairstylists, makeup artists, and wardrobe experts, all accustomed to working with A-list celebrities, gathered here.

I recognize them because Dad often hired these professionals for me whenever we had important events to attend.

Among them, I spot Hal who is at the far corner, standing guard and keeping an eye on the lot. I approach him without getting noticed and inquire about the commotion. “What’s happening here?”

“They’re here to get you ready for the gala tonight, ma’am.”

“Oh.” I stare at the people and think how it has been so long since I attended a social event, how my life has become a far cry from the glittering gatherings I once had to frequent. The thought of returning to that world, even for a single night, fills me with both excitement and dread.

“River, Darling! How are you?” A familiar voice rings out, and turning to the source, I spot the ever-dapper Maxwell.

Maxwell is a man who exudes charisma. His head is clean-shaven, his look sharp. He’s in a silver silk shirt and black tailored pants. The glossy loafers on his feet gleam with a subtle sparkle as he strides forward.

Hal notices Maxwell approaching. Before he can engage me in a conversation, Hal ushers me toward the formal dining area.

“Come, Edith will serve you breakfast.”

I can’t help but feel guilty as I’m guided away.

As we reach the dining area, I can’t help but mention, “Hal, that was rude.”

Hal’s expression remains neutral, and he responds in his usual reserved manner, “Breakfast first. Boss’s orders.”

His response leaves little room for discussion.

The next few hours pass in a whirlwind of activity. I call Summer under Hal’s watchful eye then I’m taken back to the people to get me ready for tonight.

First, they did my nails. Followed by facial and hair spa that had breathed new life into my long curls, leaving them even more luscious and vibrant.

Now, I’m in the midst of the bustling team of professionals, each expertly performing their tasks. I close my eyes briefly, allowing the gentle touch of the makeup artist’s brushes to work its magic.

Maxwell moves with precision, ensuring every detail of my outfit fits flawlessly. The team works in sync.

As the final touches are applied, I’m led to the full-length mirror.

I’m taken aback by the breathtaking transformation before me. The gown I’m wearing is a work of art—an off-the-shoulder sequin masterpiece in a shade of English violet. The high leg slit gives it a bit of a flirtatious edge, and the fringe on the straps sways with every step I take.

My curly hair, now more glossy than ever complements the gown perfectly.

The team has outdone themselves, leaving me feeling like a vision. When I thank them, they just brush it off, saying my husband paid them well. I can’t help but wonder. Why would he go to such lengths? All I did was ask him to take me with him.

I shake my head internally. How could I forget? To the world, he's the multi-billionaire, and tonight, I am going with him. All eyes are going to be on us. He is just making sure I look the part. His shiny trophy wife.

Maxwell and others are still fawning over my dress when Hal interrupts them. “Ma’am, it’s time to go.”

“Is Damian back from work?”

“Yes, ma’am. He returned not long ago. He’s all set to leave and is waiting for you outside.”

The thought of him seeing me in this dress makes my heart race, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.

As soon as I enter the hallway, my feet halt.

Damian stands in the foyer near the vast swan centerpiece. He must’ve heard us because he turns, and I forget how to breathe.

He looks magnificent in a tux and expensive loafers. He always looked breathtaking but tonight standing under the chandelier, he looks like a Greek god.

No one would ever guess that this man had just worked for twelve hours straight before coming home and still managed to summon the energy to get ready and look this good.

I swallow thickly when our eyes lock. But it’s too much so I focus on the white shirt he is wearing. Damian always prefers black so it’s a change seeing him wearing white underneath the jacket. I focus on it as I draw closer.

I can feel his eyes on me. Like fire, his gaze burns my skin as he keeps watching. My cheeks redden.

With each step, the distance between us narrows, and my heart races in anticipation.

As if he couldn’t wait, Damian covers the distance in four long strides. There’s a look of raw hunger in his eyes as he runs them up and down my body.

Gripping my chin, he tilts my face to meet his dark eyes. “You look stunning.” Then he kisses me, plunging his tongue in my mouth, tasting me and ruining my lipstick. It’s quick but thorough. When he pulls back, his eyes are wild. “I want to take you back to our bedroom and fuck you till we both pass out.”

My breath catches, and I stare at him, wide-eyed, too stunned to even form a response. He’s looking at me as if he is seriously contemplating to follow his urges. I lower my eyes but he doesn’t let me hide and lifts my chin again.

He runs his thumb over my swollen lips. “I ruined your lipstick.”

He did because I can see the proof all over his lips. Magically, Hal provides a box of tissue to Damian to wipe it off his lips. In the next second, the makeup artist is by my side fixing my lipstick.

“Do you need a glass of water? You look like you’re going to pass out.” The lady says as she finishes applying a fresh coat of lipstick to my lips.

Damian snorts and I glare at him. But I’m mortified when Hal offers me a small bottled water. “I’m fine.” I snap and rush out.

I hear Damian releasing a dark laughter behind me and I curse myself for not gauging his eyes off when he kissed me.

◆◆◆

“You can’t do that.” I snap when he climbs inside the limousine.

“Do what?”

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Damian.” I don’t know why but I felt the need to say it again. Even if a small part of me realizes that I would welcome him in my body without an ounce of hesitation, I also know that it would be a bad idea.

His dark gaze lands on me. “But you do. Every night.” I flinch. He continues, “In my arms.”

I close my eyes, embarrassed. Why did I think he would never rub it in? He is Damian Montgomery. Of course, he wouldn’t miss the chance to mock me.

“I’m not a patient man, angel.”

I lift my eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that I need you.” he deliberately spreads his long, well-defined legs. Then adjusts his tailored suit pants, emphasizing the breadth of his strong thighs and… Oh my god, he’s hard.

A flush crawls up my neck and spreads over my cheeks as my gaze lingers for a moment longer than intended. I quickly look away, hoping he hasn’t noticed my staring.

I watch the city lights through the window as I try to calm my heartbeats.

A thrill shoots through me when his calloused palm curls around my nape. But I don’t look at him. If I give in, if I submit to him again, it will leave me emptier than I am right now.

His fingers trail down until he is stroking the skin of my throat, leaving my thoughts in a mess.

“Breathe,” he commands. And that’s when it registers that I’ve been holding my breath this whole time.

My body complies, his one command soothing my nerves.

“You need me,” he says matter-of-factly and my pussy clenches and begins throbbing. “Then why are you being so difficult?”

I push his hand away. “Because unlike you, I can’t just let go of the fact that you hate me.”

He takes my hand and guides it to his bulge. “Does this feel like hate to you?”

I pull my hand. “Sex is not the solution to everything.”

“I respectfully disagree.”

“Well then you are free to find someone else to take care of your needs.”

His eyes darken, and in the blink of an eye, I’m in his lap. My upper arm throbs from the force with which he yanked me, and the breath is knocked out of my lungs.

“That’s the first and last time you’ll say that to me.”

My hands push against his chest. “You expect me to believe you never cheated on me while you were away on those business trips?”

He grabs my wrists and twists them behind my back, his eyes flashing with a warning.

My mouth parts in surprise. “Are you serious?” I never fathomed the idea of him betraying our vows, but that was before. The moment I discovered he had a hidden agenda to marry me, I concluded that fidelity also held no significance to him. If our union was merely a facade, there was no reason for him to remain loyal to me.

His jaw clenches. “My being faithful is that shocking to you?”

“But y-you hate me.” And my father.

He jerks me to his chest. “Doesn’t stop me from wanting you.” His voice is full of venom, as if he hates himself for wanting me so much. Is this why he was always so desperate to get inside me the moment he returned home from those trips? If he is telling the truth, then it has been more than three months since he had sex. And that’s why he said he isn’t a patient man.

“Would you rather I go to some random woman and fuck her?”

My heart thuds in my chest. “W-what?”

His eyes flash with fury. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry before.

“Do you really want me to fuck someone who’s not you?”

Tears gather in my eyes as I picture him with someone else. His naked body over a beautiful woman who wouldn’t hesitate asking for what she wants from him. Bile rises to my throat. I shake my head vehemently.

“Tell me.” He shakes me roughly. “Go ahead, angel. Tell me again to fuck another woman, and I’ll do it right in front of you.”

I tremble in his lap uncontrollably. “S-stop!”

“I should be the one saying that.” He glares at me. “Stop this nonsense and let me have you.”

“I hate you,” I whimper.

“You can hate me while I fuck you all night long.”

I screw my eyes shut so I can block the raw hunger etched over his face. But there’s no way to stop his words.

“I want to climb between your legs and stay there for the entire week until you remember who you belong to. I want to devour every inch of you until you lose your voice from screaming and your body is decorated from the marks given by my mouth and fingers.”

“You can always force yourself on me,” I shoot back, my voice laced with defiance. He’s already made it clear he’s not a patient man, and I know exactly what that implies—that he’d have me with or without my consent.

“I’m your fucking husband.” He releases me with a shove and I fall on my seat. “I own your pussy. I own you . I don’t need to force you into doing anything.” His eyes turn mocking. “Because we both know you’ll happily spread your legs for me whenever I want.”

I glare at him. “I don’t see myself spreading my legs right now.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

That makes me shut up. Turning away, I wait for the car ride to be over so I can get away from his suffocating presence.