Nine

 Elena's POV

I woke up lying in bed, without knowing how I had got there. The last thing I remembered was crying and then I fell asleep... wait, did he?

I jumped up with a start. An arm was thrown over my waist and a firm chest pressed against my back. My heart raced as I flinched away from him.

What did he do while I was out?

Did he rape me?

I raised my legs   no pain, or maybe it wasn't supposed to be painful, but people said it was usually worse.

"Good, you're awake." Dimitri said in a voice that was husky with sleep. I peeked out of his arms, stiffened, and hurriedly climbed off the bed. His hands gripped my wrist before I could fully leap off, and in no time he had wrestled me back onto the bed, pinned under him. My heartbeat doubled as I tried not to breathe while staring into his cold eyes. His hands brushed over my face, tugging a strand of loose hair out of the way. I stiffened. He shook his head. "What's it with you anyway?"

"As if you don't know." I hate you, you monster, you killer, stupid mafia " My ranting turned into sharp whimpering, and before I could stop myself, I was already throwing my fist at every part of his body I could reach, raining punches and more punches.

"Stop!" he growled, fury flashing in his eyes.

But that only fuelled my determination to piss him off. Maybe if I kept pissing him off, he'd finally agree to divorce and end this stupid marriage   or well... kill me.

That thought alone froze my next punch mid-air.

He gripped the hand as casually as though he were picking a flower and pinned it above my head. The other hand followed, and soon I was glaring at him with both hands pinned overhead, not knowing what to do except sob and let my tears pour out. With one final look of irritation, he climbed off me and walked up to the floor-to-ceiling window and pulled the curtains apart. Warm sunlight poured out into the room, hitting me straight in the face.

He gave me another cold glance before reaching inside a drawer by the corner and fishing out a pack of cigarettes. I gritted my teeth, biting back the sob that was threatening to burst out of my throat, as I watched him casually light the cigarette stick and take a long, deep drag.

No. I couldn't be here   bathroom, straight up.

I stumbled out of bed. He pulled an armchair and sat on it, ignoring me. I gathered the last ounce of strength left in my wobbly legs and forced myself into the ensuite bathroom. When I stared back at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't believe this was actually me. No way.

My eyes were red, swollen and puffy, my hair was dishevelled, and a hint of strain and excessive crying still left tear tracks on my face. I sighed and started undressing, stepping out of my nightwear   then into the shower. Immediately, I collapsed against the bathtub. I felt another need to cry, to yell, to curse at someone for all my stupid misfortune. What crime did I commit to have been the only daughter of a mafia Don?

For fifteen years, I avoided home, went to college, refused their help, tried to cut off all connections to this awful family   and then one fucking stupid day, I returned back from work to meet Dimitri and my father's men waiting in my room. I could never forget that fucking day. I screamed my lungs out, cried in protest, thrashed and kicked, but dragging me was as easy as flicking a switch for those men. Cold killers.

Hot tears spilled out of my eyes and a gasp burst out of me. I bit my lower lip to stifle it in  

When I finally came back to consciousness, I had somehow arrived at the stupid family house. I hated and dreaded everything, and in my father's face—God, take him please—was smiling back at me.

"Welcome home, Elena." He had said with that same cold, sinister, imperceptible smile that had freaked me out to all my years of existence. The next I had been told was that I was getting married in two days, without my consent, without even an argument or any option to disagree.

Hatred for my father and monster of a husband filled me up, but even worse was the hot pang of disappointment and sadness that pulsed through me with each heartbeat. I was married off blindly to a man I didn't know anything about   a man who even killed someone on his own wedding night. A cold-blooded monster.

 Another sob burst out of my throat and in no time I was crying all over the place   not even trying to muffle my sobs or anything. I didn't know how long it was that I cried for, but when I finally stopped, Dimitri was in the bathroom, staring at me with a scowl plastered on his face.

"If I knew you wouldn't stop crying, I might as well have slept with you last night," he said coldly, emotionlessly.

My throat constricted. "That would have been rape," I said.

"Not when I already married you," he snapped.

"Without my consent," I glared back.

"Who gives a shit about your consent?" he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "Be out of here in ten minutes and come straight down for breakfast. Don't let me find you."

Oh God. Oh God.

He turned away, halted at the door   gave me one last pitiful look before walking out of the bathroom. I turned on the shower and began washing up, wishing the water could also somehow wash away this nightmare. Because I wouldn't ever get over this.

When I finally cleaned up and stepped out of the bathroom, Dimitri was nowhere to be found   which came as a welcome relief. If I could just press the Alt-Delete button and cleaned his entire existence out of my life, I would do it   really fucking do it.

My heartbeat picked up as I finished dressing up and climbed the stairs down to the dining room. Heart jackhammering fiercely   not knowing what to expect. But that was barely short-lived, as I reached the foot of the stairs; my eyes widened in surprise and I jumped on her like it had been decades we saw.

"Mother!" I exclaimed in my hoarse voice, hugging her and burying my face in the hollow of her neck. She patted me gently on the back, saying sweet nothings to comfort me   but I didn't need any of that. What I needed was her. Someone like home, someone who really cared   someone that could really, fucking love me.

We pulled apart and she dragged me to the couch, her voice ridiculously low and hushed. "Tell me everything   what did he do to you?" she asked.

A knot tightened in my throat at that. Strange warmth filled me up. I shook my head. "Nothing yet." But I couldn't tell for how long.

How long could Dimitri endure before laying claims to my body? I had been sold to him, so I was not going to let him get anywhere near me.

I couldn't allow that monster.

And the monster walked in at that very moment, his eyes frowning down at me like he could read my thoughts.

Great. Just when I thought I'd caught a break — there he was. Six foot nine of pure inconvenience, standing in my only exit.