“Oh…” The room spins. I catch myself on the nearest wall while trying to gulp air to keep my sanity intact.
What’s going to happen to me?
“Lyubimaya,” Pavel says while extending a hand to me. I inspect the digits carefully, searching for a speck of blood, but there’s none to be found. He must have wiped his hands while I wasn’t looking. “This is simple. It won’t take very long.”
I take his hand. It’s all I can do after everything I just witnessed. He leads me to the center of the room and strokes my cheek, reaching up to take my veil gently from my hair.
To his brigadiers, he says, “Strip her.”
His voice sparks memories, that cold and uncaring tone dragging me right back to the beginning of this mess. Giant hands remove the delicate fabric of my gown with calculated motions meant for an antique being set up for auction.
Are they being careful because of me or the dress?
What’s going to happen?A million little horrifying scenes play through my mind of his men taking me one by one in front of him.He made me choose, and now he’s going to humiliate me. Why did I ever believe he would keep his word?
“Liya,” Pavel whispers. “Open your eyes.”
It’s hard to make myself look at him, but I do. I’m confused to find him shirtless. Twin stars tattooed on his chest grab my attention next. Then the intricate line work of his sleeves amazes me and I lose myself to the toned muscle, the cut abs, the way his pale skin seems to sing in the dim light.
He nods to the left. “Over here.”
Two cushioned seats covered in plastic sit side by side. I take the nearest one, staring at the tattoo equipment on the table. It’s better than being railed by a Russian mob, even if it is a bit tasteless in my opinion.
There are a dozen questions I want to ask, but I keep my lips sealed, choosing to play with the new rings occupying my finger.
“It only hurts for a moment,” Pavel says as the tattooist places a needle on the flesh above his chest. “And you won’t need to worry about anything after that.”
Except I have everything to worry about.
I dig my nails into my palms as the tattooist outlines a crown on my left shoulder blade. Maybe something like this would have been cute if I had done it with Willow. Why wasn’t I this rebellious when I was younger? Aren’t all girls supposed to do that at some point?
Not girls like me.
My brows pinch together as the inked pen pricks my skin and pain crawls along my back.
I can’t help feeling like an animal being branded by my owner.
We’re not meant to have happily-ever-afters or safe little castles.
Other girls get white knights; we get monsters.
I glance at Pavel, who doesn’t flinch. He seems lost in his own world, his eyes void of the jovial affection I witnessed during the wedding. Pensive, prominent, powerful—this is his energy despite the lack of emotion in his face.
A crown forms above the stars on his chest. It matches the one I’m wearing, with detailed gems marking the points of the crown. My eyes search the room for what I previously mistook for leather.
Bring me his stars.
Will there be a day when someone demands the same of my crown?
Bile climbs my throat as I stare at my new husband.And will that order come from him?
Chapter Fifteen
Liya
This should feel good.
I shudder while watching Pavel like a frightened mouse. He unlaces my bodice and slides the sleeves away from my upper arms with an aching slowness that makes my pussy throb. Everything he does catches my attention—but it doesn’t feel like me experiencing it.