CHAPTER 5

Araceli

We sat barely two inches apart, yet it felt as if his body pressed into mine, his nearness overwhelming, intoxicating. I caught that familiar, expensive blend of oud and sandalwood on his skin, warm and haunting.

“You have to try and smile a little, Moye iskusheniye.” His deep voice slid through me, and I turned slowly to meet his gaze.

My temptation.

His eyes were painfully beautiful, holding a pull I couldn’t resist. He tilted his head slightly and blinked at me. It took ten seconds or more to realize I had been openly tracing his nose, his eyes, his lips with my stare.

“My mother is watching you, and only me, you, and your family know this is an arranged marriage. Be a good girl and smile.”

He leaned back into his seat, and I followed his gaze; he was staring at Naiara, sitting at another table. I clenched my fists as heat prickled down my skin, my rage bubbling fiercely inside me.

“You talk about marriage so respectfully, yet you slept with my stepsister the night before our wedding.” I blurted it out, hoping he would deny it, hoping he would say something to soothe the fire boiling within me.

He leaned back comfortably, green piercing eyes fixed on me. Warm and  Flickering with maybe amusement. “You are jealous, Moye iskusheniye,” he said, amusement lacing his voice.

“N-no, I’m not jea-jealous,” I stuttered. I can’t be jealous. I know Naiara is prettier, sexier, but at least he couldn’t wait, couldn’t hold back with her. Did he give her something we haven’t shared yet? Is this all a game to him?

“She came to me of her own will, and I only fulfilled her wishes.” He raised his hands in defense.

Ouch. A pit formed in my stomach. I clenched my fists tighter, dug my nails into my thigh, and refused to spare him another glance. I raised my head and stared at maybe thousands of people gathered in the hall.

I have never felt such anger, such rage. I know I’m unattractive, but I had hoped my so-called husband would not make me feel this way. How on earth is he so calm about fucking another woman the night before our wedding?

“Give me your hand, Moye iskusheniye…” His voice cut through the rage and anger consuming me, calm yet commanding. It sounded more like an order than a request, and I loved it—the aura in which he spoke, impossible to resist.

I extended my hand. He took it, leading me toward an older couple. I immediately guessed they were his parents; the resemblance was clear. He inherited the green eyes from her.

“Oh, my dear. I thought you’d never introduce her to us.” His mother kissed me lightly on both cheeks. His father, however, seemed disinterested, his cold gaze slicing through me, making me shiver.

Matvei pulled me back from his mother’s embrace, holding my waist tighter, like he was shielding me from them.

“Dumayu, vy uzhe dostatochno predstavilis.” His gaze froze on his parents, cold and lethal.

I think you’ve already introduced yourself enough.

“Araceli, come for dinner tomorrow,” his mother said softly. “We have a present for you.”

 “Of course, ma’am. I will.” I replied too quickly, feeling Matvei’s cold stare burn through me, sending heat rushing down my body.

“I will–” His mother was cut off as Matvei yanked me forcefully from the hall.

His grip on my elbow was so tight I winced in pain.

“You’re hurting me,” I whispered. He ignored me completely, throwing me into the passenger seat before slamming the door shut.

“Where are we going?! I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my papa!” I cried, nearly in tears. He didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge me. He started the car and sped off recklessly. I clutched my chest in fear, preparing for a crash. But that surprisingly did not happen.

We left the city, and he drove for forty-five minutes at high speed without saying a word. I just stared out the window until I saw a huge iron gate ahead. He opened it with a remote or something and drove inside. The mansion was massive and all white, more like a private White House, surrounded by fully armed bodyguards.

He got out of the car, came around, and opened the door for me. Taking my hand, he led me to the front, then dropped my hand and tapped my back, still guiding me inside. His touch was calm, soft, yet it made my whole body tense.

“Otvedi yeye v komnatu,” he said to one of the older maids. I glanced at him, confused, but he ignored me completely and walked toward the bar.

Take her to her room.

I felt so empty, like my soul had slipped out of my body, that I didn’t even realize I was standing outside the master bedroom. The room looked inviting in its dark, quiet elegance. I stepped inside. The maid said something to me, but I was far too lost and exhausted to care. I dragged myself to the king-sized bed and collapsed onto it without another thought.

I hated my life. I hated my body. I hated myself. I hated the way I felt for him—this ache I couldn’t kill, this anger and rage that burned just beneath my skin. I hated that I kept expecting something from him when he’d given me nothing but pain in less than twenty-four hours. I was so lost in it that I didn’t realize tears were sliding down my cheeks until my fingers brushed my face and came away wet. Two days ago, I was just a simple girl living at my stepmother’s mercy. Now I’m married to a stranger, far from everyone I’ve ever known.

Drowning in my sadness and self-hate, I dragged myself into the bathroom and stood under the shower until the water went cold. When I was done, I wrapped myself in a towel and opened the closet, expecting emptiness. Instead, I found rows of soft, girly dresses on one side. Confused, I reached for a silky pair of shorts and a singlet. They fit me perfectly, too perfectly, but the shorts were so small that my butt cheeks were out. I wondered how he knew my size.

Patting the towel through my hair as I stepped out of the closet, I froze. Matvei stood in the doorway, his eyes dark and tense, pinning me in place. His gaze slowly traveled from my head to my toes, as if he were seeing me for the first time.

“Ty samaya prekrasnaya zhenshchina, kotoruyu ya kogda-libo videl,” he said, his deep voice low and intoxicating, sending shivers across my skin.

You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

“I-I don’t understand,” I stuttered, lowering my head.

He stepped closer. Each movement made my chest rise and fall faster, his presence heating my skin, blurring the world until it was only the two of us.

Leaning in, his face brushed my neck. I could feel each steady breath, and a wave of dizziness washed over me, as if I might pass out any second.

“I had nothing to do with your stepsister,” he whispered, easing back only to find my eyes. His fingers traced my lips, a soft tremor blooming in my chest. I held his gaze. His smile lingered on his lips as he turned and walked into the bathroom.

I took a deep breath and sank onto the bed. Relief washed over me and something more. He hadn’t touched Naiara, and he had told me, but she said they had something; was she trying to get under my skin? I paused, confused, when I felt like I pissed in my pajamas. My fingers brushed there, and my stomach fluttered. Wait… I realized I was wet. And he hadn’t even touched me yet. Butterflies raced through my tummy, and my pulse jumped. Maybe this marriage was a good decision after all.

His phone rang. I jumped up happily to see who it was. My smile died when I saw the name on the screen: Naiara.