Chapter 2

I had no idea where Rogue stayed the night. But I already knew the answer: probably tangled up in that woman's sheets. That night, I cried myself to sleep because the pain in my chest was too much to bear.

The sun in the morning didn't bring light; it just showed the damage from the night before. I decided to clean the kitchen, as we don't have a maid to do it.

The doorbell rang while I was still on my knees, scrubbing the blood and dried curry stains off the kitchen tiles. I didn't even have time to stand in front of my mother-in-law, Lady Beatrice Sterling, and her daughter, Sienna, who is Rogue's younger sister. They looked like kings and queens, with silk, pearls, and a smell of lilies that made them feel like they were at a funeral.

Beatrice didn't offer a greeting. She looked down at me, her lip curling in a sneer that made me feel smaller than the dust I was cleaning.

"Oh, look! The trash is on her knees. At least you finally found a place that fits your kinds, Adeline," she said in a voice that was filled with mockery.

She smirked at me. I wish I could do something to get that smug look off her face.

"Look at her hair, mom." Sienna said with a laugh as she leaned against the counter I had spent hours cleaning.

She flicked a piece of my tangled hair with a well-groomed nail.

"She smells like a cheap spice market. Is this what my brother has to come home to? No wonder he's always in someone else's bed." My heart sank at those words, remembering what I had thought earlier.

She's right. I couldn't argue more about that.

"I'm sorry... I was just cleaning up the mess from last night," I said in a shaky voice.

"Last night?" Beatrice stepped over a wet rag, and her heels clicked like a clock.

"Rogue called me this morning and told me you had a psychotic break. You attacked a guest and destroyed his home out of jealousy for peasants." I looked up at her because of that.

"I didn't—that's his wh*re, mom—"

"Don't call me that!" she yelled as she slapped me, making the room feel like it was freezing.

I immediately hold that part of my face where her palm landed. Sienna laughed, clearly amuse of the show she's watching.

"You are nothing more than a legal obligation. Rogue has to endure because your father don't have enough cents to pay us. But if you think your 'love' gives you the right to embarrass this family, you are sadly mistaken!"

Sienna walked to the fridge, took out a glasd of expensive juice, and on purpose let it fall from her hand. It splattered all over my legs and the floor I had just cleaned.

Sienna smirked and said, "Oops," with no sign of regret in her eyes.

"Get that cleaned up, Adeline. And while you're at it, my car actually needs cleaning. The driver is busy, and you obviously have nothing better to do than sit around in this penthouse, so you better clean that too."

"I am his wife," I said in a whisper, even though I felt like I was lying when I said it.

I shouldn't suffer like this. If only my father wasn't greedy enough, I wouldn't have to endure this kind of hell.

"You are a placeholder," Beatrice corrected what I said, and she leaned down so I could see the cold emptiness in her eyes.

The juice that hurt my skin soaked through my clothes as I held on to the scrub brush. I didn't shed a tear. I couldn't. I bowed my head and started scrubbing again, hearing their laughter echoing through the empty halls of my prison.

I was still on my knees cleaning up the juice Sienna had "accidentally" spilled when I heard a loud thud at the front door. My heart raced, which I hated, as I hoped for a savior, only to realize that my nightmare was about to get worse.

Rogue walked in, he looks so perfect wearing a shirt and cargo pants with his tussled hair and his face like a mask of cold thunder. When he walked into the kitchen, the mood changed right away.

Beatrice, my mother-in-law, changed right away. The sneer went away and was replaced by a look of tired, motherly worry. She walked over to Rogue, and her voice got weak and shaky.

"Rogue, darling, you're finally home!" she said with a sigh as she touched his arm.

"We came to check on Adeline after what you told us about last night... we wanted to help her. But she's been hissing at me." I was shocked when I looked up.

"Mom, I—"

"Please, Adeline," Beatrice interrupted, her eyes welling with fake tears as she looked at Rogue.

"We only asked if she needed a therapist, and she... she started screaming at us. She told us we were outsiders in her home. She was so disrespectful, Rogue. I've never been spoken to that way." Sienna chimed in, her voice a theatrical sob.

"She almost threw a plate at mom! She's out of control, Rogue!" The air in the room vanished.

Rogue's gaze snapped to mine, and for a second, I saw red. Not passion—pure, unadulterated hatred. He didn't even ask for my side. He didn't have to. In his eyes, I was already the monster.

He moved so fast I didn't have time to flinch. His hand clamped around my upper arm, his fingers digging into my skin with bruising force as he hauled me up from the floor.

"Rogue, you're hurting me!" I gasped, my legs tangling in the wet rags.

"Hurting you?" he hissed, his face inches from mine, his breath smelling of expensive coffee and cold rage.

"You attack my guest, you humiliate my mother and sister in my own house, and you have the audacity to play the victim?!" He gripped my arm tighter, his knuckles white.

My tears that I thought was already dried out, welled up at the edge of my eyes, as my heart throbbed painfully.

I was tired of this both physically and mentally, but why can't my heart just give up? I just... can't.

I could feel the skin pinch and the bone groan because of his strength. He pulled me toward the hallway, away from his "suffering" family.

His voice was low and full of disgust when he said,

"You are a plague, Adeline."

"My father bought you to be a quiet, obedient wife. Instead, you're a loud, pathetic brat who doesn't know her place!" He pushed me against the hallway wall and held my arm so tightly that I knew there would be finger-shaped bruises by morning.

"Say you're sorry!" he yelled, his eyes dark with a promise of pain.

"Go back in there, get on your knees, and beg my mother for forgiveness, or you'll be sleeping outside tonight!" I looked into the eyes of the man I had loved since I was nineteen, and for the first time, the flame of hope inside me didn't just flicker. It passed away.

"I didn't do anything, Rogue, please." I begged softly, and a single tear fell from my eyes. His grip got stronger until I screamed.

"I don't care what you did. I care that you're here! Now get moving and do what I say!"

I could feel the bone in my arm creaking as he held it tightly. The pain was bad, but the look of pure hatred in Rogue's eyes really made me stop. He didn't see his wife; he saw an animal that needed to die.

"Move," he said, and my skin shook.

He not only led me, but he also pushed me back into the kitchen. I tripped over the rags I had used to clean up their mess, and my legs felt heavy.

Beatrice and Sienna were standing there, looking hurt and beautiful. Beatrice held a lace handkerchief to her eyes, but I knew there wasn't a tear behind it.

"Do it!" Rogue yelled, holding my arm tightly like a shackle and pushing me down.

I could feel my knees hit the cold, hard tile floor, which I had just been cleaning. I know it will hurt later. The shame tasted like copper in the back of my throat. Through her fake smile, I could see that Beatrice's eyes were shining with a sick, happy spark.

"I'm sorry," I said in a whisper, my voice breaking.

"Louder!" Rogue yelled, digging his fingers deeper into my bruised skin. "And mean it. My mother doesn't deserve the trash that comes out of your mouth." I shut my eyes and put my forehead almost on the floor.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Sienna, please forgive me for being rude."

A heavy silence followed, broken only by the sound of Sienna's soft, mocking giggle.

"There," Beatrice said, her voice dripping with artificial grace. "See, Rogue? She just needs a firm hand. It's the only language her kind understands. We'll leave you to... handle her. I can't stay in this atmosphere a moment longer."

I stayed on the floor, my head bowed, as I heard the clicking of their heels fading away. I waited for the grip on my arm to release, for a moment of silence, but Rogue wasn't done. He hauled me up to my feet, spinning me around to face him.

"Don't think this is over, Adeline," he growled, his face only a few inches from mine.

"You are a stain on my name. Every time you talk to my family, you remind me of why I hate the day our fathers made this deal. Stay in this kitchen, clean this mess. Don't leave the house, and don't let me see your pathetic face for the rest of the night."

He pushed me back toward the counter, and the way he looked at me made me feel naked and ashamed. He turned around and left, leaving me alone in the mess of the kitchen. The ghostly heat of his hand was still burning my skin.

I looked at my arm. The red marks were already turning a dark, angry purple, and the shape of his fingers was burned into my skin.

Why do it has to be so hard to love you, Rogue?