“Can’t you be the least bit discreet?” I snarl in my husband’s face. My attitude does nothing to faze him as he leans back against the headboard with a smirk on his face. He doesn’t even try to cover up the evidence of his indiscretions, the bed sheets barely covering his naked half. I watch the young woman scurry out of the room with a flaming face, with embarrassment I hope. This is the type of life I’ve been subjected to, and all I’m able to ask myself is why? Why tie me down to him when he was going to go out and do this?
Something tells me Roman has other plans in store. He’s a man with authority and when he gives an order there’s finality in his voice. He’s an intelligent creature, a predatory human. Every move he makes has a reason, he carries out his plans swiftly, but that just leaves me questioning myself. How the hell do I fit into all of this? Why force me into accepting his marriage offer? I saved someone I love, I remind myself just like I do every other day, fingering the pendant that hangs on my neck.
“It’s not like I have any other choice,” he shrugs, something in his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. He runs a hand through his hair before untangling himself from the bed and heading for the ensuite bathroom, not even bothering to hide his naked form from my eyes. Shaking my head with pure and unabated frustration I head down to his office, knowing that’s where he’ll run off to. Sure, our marriage is nothing but a mere farce for the public, though the title in itself is very legal. The least he could do is take his ‘conquests’ to a hotel or a more private place so he can do as he pleases.
This wouldn’t matter if I was married to anybody else, but then again if I was married to somebody else, it would’ve been of my own volition. Not Roman Ferrar, one of the biggest business moguls around, the spotlight shines on him relentlessly. Desperately hoping that my constant whining and nagging will make him set me free, I remind him every damn day what a conniving, cheating bastard he really is. Every time, to my disappointment, he smirks with a careless shrug. I’ve reached my melting point, bringing his girls to what’s supposed to be our house, he’s blatantly disrespecting me. My head snaps up as he strides into the room with his usual air of confidence.
“What do you want now?” he asks as if I’m the annoying one.
“I want respect, Roman,” I stand and walk over to his desk. He sighs, taking a seat on his leather chair, his throne, as he refers to it before his deep blue eyes peer up at me.
“You know I could use a shoulder rub,” he rolls his shoulders as that stupid smirk appears on his chiseled features.
“What you need is a leash,” I bite back. “Can you do me the favor of not bringing your girls over to our home,” I exclaim as he types away on his computer, diving into the business world.
“What do you want me to do?” he sighs tiredly, leaning back on his chair making some of the kinks whine.
“I want you to have a bit of sense and do your biddings somewhere else. I’m tired of looking stupid for the public. The woman who stays with her cheating husband, most people think I’m still with you because you’re rich,” I elaborate. I lose some of my confidence as he stands to his full intimidating figure of six foot four, moving closer to me.
“And are you?” he whispers, minty breath fanning over my face as he backs me into the wall.
“Am I what?”
“Are you still with me for the money?” he grabs my chin with one hand. My jaw clenches as I reach up and slap his hand away with more force than necessary.
YOU ARE READING
Till Death Do Us Part
Humor"You may now kiss the bride," the priest declares and I turn to face the man in front of me. I force a smile onto my face as he leans in, and try not to upchuck that shot of Tequila I drank in order to go through with this. Coercion, that's how I...
