05: The Switch

Lilith

"My black card?" He asks.

"Don't you have one? I was under the notion I was marrying a billionaire, was I wrong?"

I am pulling his legs, yanking at his ego and I can already see the anger brewing in his gaze.

"You were not wrong," he grits, dipping his hands into his pocket and bringing out the card. I reach to collect it but he snatched it up.

"You should freshen up first," he says, raking his eyes down my body.

I roll my eyes. "I can do that later, but right now I need to eat," I say in a whiny voice. I reach out for the card and take it with a wink.

"Are you coming with me, or do you want me to enjoy the view of the city of light alone?"

Thirty minutes later, I am dragging a brooding Rayne De Luca with me as I explore the city of Paris, smiling widely while buying every snack I came across.

"Is this your idea of eating out, or are just being a nuisance?"

I roll my eyes at Rayne's question, coming to a stop in front of an art shop, where series of painted arts are displayed as I munched on the last chip from my recent bag of snack.

"You think I am a nuisance? Such pretty compliment from my dear husband, you truly know how to make a woman feel special."

"That was not a compliment," he hissed.

Of course it was not, but my sarcasm was on full blown mode today and I was ready to get on every nerve Rayne De Luca had in his body, down to the very last one.

"I didn't beg you to follow me, Rayne," I tell him. "You willingly volunteered."

"Because you can't be out alone in a city you barely know!" He snaps.

"Good, then act like the bodyguard you want to be and stop whining like a baby,"I shoot back.

"Did you just —"

I do not wait for his reaction as I find my way inside the shop, leaving him standing outside.

"Welcome," The shop owner greets. "Did you find something that caught your eye?" He asks, grinning at me.

I glance around, carefully studying the paintings. No offense, but they were all mediocre, but when I glance back at my husband whose gaze on me is purely murderous. I click my tongue.

"Actually, everything caught my eye, so I will take it all."

The shop owner's mouth widens in shock, his jaw almost falling to the floor — ironically. "Everything?"

"Of course, every painting in this shop." I brought out Rayne's black card and smirked.

"This black card is in charge."

The man visibly gulps, looking from the me to the card and back to me. "Do you want me to pack it up for you, or do you want it to be sent to your home."

"Here is my address," I write out the address of the hotel suite and the room number and give it to him. "Send it there."

"Your shopping spree is not done, is it?" Rayne asks when I go back to join him outside.

"What? Of course not. Why would it be over when my husband has enough to spare," I answer cheekily, clicking my tongue like it was stupid of him to ask that question.

If looks could kill, I am sure I would be six feet under the ground right now,courtesy of my husband. He looked like he was ready to stab me anytime from now.

It takes another one hour for me to make my impulse buying and then we return to our hotel room. I can already feel the anger exuding from Rayne with every step we take closer to our room.

I have to keep reminding myself that I am not scared of him, neither will I allow him make me feel little.

I guess I was wrong.

The door has not even closed when he turns to me and growls. "You like to be dramatic, don't you sweet vixen?"

My heart is thumping loudly as he moves closer, backing me against the now closed door.

I take a large gulp. "I don't know what you are talking about," I mumble.

"Are you sure don't? Need I remind you what you've done my sweet vixen?" His voice is calm, so damn calm yet it reminds of the storm that comes after such calmness. I knew all my tantrums would bring me to this place but I didn't care then and even right now I try not to care as much.

"And what will you do?" I throw back at him fiercely. "What the fuck will you do to me?"

Rayne snickers at my words as if I was a mere amusement to him, as if I was a joker putting on a circus show. Oh how I hate Rayne De Luca, I hate him so much that I want to rip his head off. He raises his hands suddenly and reaches for my neck causing a yelp to fall out my lips as he presses hard, almost cutting off my air flow.

"You have a foul mouth vixen, I do not like that."

"Who said I cared about what you like, Rayne De Luca," I spat despite the fact that his hands steadily keeps pressing making my eyes water at the pressure.

He smirks. "That's the fucking point. The fact that you do not care and I want to make you!"

I struggle against his hold, dreading the moment as his grip gets tighter and his gaze gets dimmer. "You are delusional," I force myself to speak.

"Exactly," He says, a wicked grin gracing his features. "I never claimed otherwise."

I reach for his hand on my throat and with enough strength I can muster, I wrench his hold from me let out a needful breath once I am free. "Fucking bastard," I snap.

"Not only do you have a foul mouth," Rayne begins slowly now staring at me with what seemed like a newfound perspective. "You seem to have strength in the right places. I am impressed."

My fist clenched, my throat hurting from the prolonged almost crushing of it and I bite my lips in pure undiluted anger. I do not want to impress Rayne De Luca, but yet it seems like everything i do is a subject of amusement to my husband.

"Now go to bed wife," he continues. "You should be well rested before our honeymoon night I would not want you passing out on me now,would I?"

He knows what he is insinuating as a knowing smirk accompanies his words and I cannot help the shiver that runs down my spine at the mere thought of it.

•

I munch on a bar of chocolate as I stare at the notepad before me.

My sketches are disheveled this night.

It is dirty, forbidden.

Splashes of thoughts that should never have crossed my mind.

Forbidden I repeat.

It stares back at me, haunting, demeaning. Yet I cannot bring it in me to let it go. I will never kneel before a man, but why does this sketch speak otherwise? I throw my notepad into my box as if it burns, and zip the bag so quickly like anyone could come in any minute from now and see how far gone I have become.