CHAPTER 4- The Pretty Prisoner

YULIA'S POV 

"I don't like this dress" I broke the silence and crossed my arms. I wasn't expecting an answer from Armani but I got one anyways. He shifted uneasily beside me and cleared his throat.

"What is wrong with it?"

"It is too revealing" I replied and turned to face him. He glanced at his wristwatch before adjusting his tie, his expression unreadable.

"I prefer this to the ones you picked. We still have an hour. If you don't like it, we can stop at a boutique."

I blinked. A boutique? For a moment, I almost forgot that I was sitting beside the man who had kidnapped me.

Almost.

I turned back toward the window.

"I'm talking to you."

"I heard you," I replied without looking at him.

A heavy sigh came from beside me.

"This attitude...and this tone. You will have to drop it when we get there. You will not speak to my family like this."

I remained silent. I wasn't going to argue with him. Not because I agreed. I simply didn't want to waste my breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him lean forward and adjust his tie.

"Silence when being spoken to is a sign of disrespect in my family," he said. "You speak when spoken to."

I slowly turned toward him.

"I am not following your rules when—"

"You are my wife now."

His voice was firm.

"The family rules apply to you."

I stared at him. Something about the way he said my wife made my stomach twist. As if saying it enough times would somehow make this real.

"I want to file for divorce."

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Something flashed across his eyes.

Dark.

Dangerous.

My confidence wavered for half a second, but I refused to look away. His hands curled into tight fists. He inhaled slowly through his nose, then looked down. For a moment, he said nothing. Then he exhaled and nodded slowly. I narrowed my eyes. That wasn't agreement.

Not even close.

Before I could say anything else, the driver spoke from the front.

"We've arrived at the boutique, sir."

The car came to a stop. The door slid open, and a hand extended toward me. I pushed it away.

"I can walk."

I stepped out of the car and immediately looked up. The boutique was enormous. It was almost the size of a mansion. I stared at the grand entrance, taking in the glass doors and expensive-looking displays. I'd never been inside a clothing store this big in all my nineteen years.  For a brief moment, I found myself distracted. Then I remembered why I was there.

I glanced behind me. Armani had already stepped out of the car. He tilted his head slightly before stuffing one hand into his pocket.

"Welcome, sir."

A woman approached us. Her eyes immediately landed on me.

"This way, ma'am."

I followed her inside. Armani's voice stopped me.

"Get her your finest dresses. And be quick about it. We have less than an hour."

"Yes, sir."

The woman nodded quickly.

"Please follow me, ma'am."

I looked back at Armani. He tapped his wristwatch and motioned for me to follow her. I rolled my eyes.

Of course. Everything had to be done according to his schedule.

I followed the woman into the dressing area. I tried on several dresses.

One after another.

They were all beautiful.

And, annoyingly, they all fit perfectly.

"This one makes your curves more prominent," the woman said, admiring the dress. "It's gorgeous, ma'am."

I looked at myself in the mirror. It actually was gorgeous. But I wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"The next one."

She blinked.

"The next one?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

I was deliberately stalling. If Armani wanted me to play the obedient wife, he was going to have a very difficult time. The woman nodded and snapped her fingers. Another dress was brought in. I tried that one on too.

Then another.

And another.

By the time I finally found one I liked, I was certain I had wasted enough of his precious time. I looked at myself in the mirror one last time. A black dress hugged my figure perfectly.

I smiled faintly. At least I could choose one thing for myself today. I stepped out of the dressing room. Armani, who had been sitting earlier, was now standing. I walked toward him slowly.

"Is this to your liking?"

His eyes stayed on my face for a few seconds before dropping briefly to the dress. He looked away almost immediately.

"Let's go."

He turned and walked toward the exit. My smile grew.

I'd annoyed him.

For once, I felt like I'd won something. I followed behind him, trying not to look too pleased with myself.

But as we approached the exit, a thought suddenly struck me. I looked behind me. Armani's men were following several feet away. Then I looked toward the doors.

Freedom.

My heart began pounding. This was my chance. If I could just get outside, I could find someone who could help me. I glanced at Armani's back. He was still walking. I looked at the security guards near the entrance.

They were strangers. They had to help me.

Right?

I didn't think twice. I lifted the hem of my dress and suddenly darted to the left.

"Help me!"

The security guards turned.

"Please! These men kidnapped me!"

I ran toward them, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope.

"Please, you have to help me!"

They stared at me. Nobody moved. My steps slowed. I looked from one guard to the other.

"Can you not hear me?"

My voice cracked.

"I said they kidnapped me!"

Still nothing. The hope I'd felt only seconds ago began to disappear.

No.

No, no, no.

Maybe they didn't understand.

Maybe—

"Get her."

Armani's cold voice cut through the room.

I spun around. His expression had completely changed. The warmth—if there had even been any—was gone. His men immediately moved toward me.

"No!"

I backed away.

"Stop!"

They reached me before I could run.

"Get your dirty hands off me!"

I thrashed against their grip, kicking and twisting, but it was useless. They were far stronger than me.

"Let me go!"

My eyes burned with tears.

I hated this. I hated how powerless I felt. I had actually thought I could escape. For one stupid second, I thought someone was going to help me. Now I was being dragged back to the man I was trying to escape from.

They pulled me toward Armani. He stood there watching me without saying a word. His eyes moved over me briefly before he spoke.

"Get her in the car. Now."

"No!"

I struggled harder.

"Let me go!"

But nobody listened. The men lifted me effortlessly and carried me toward the car. I kicked uselessly, but they barely reacted. The moment they put me inside, I scrambled to the opposite side of the seat.

Armani got in after me. I glared at him.

"Why are you not listening to me?"

He pulled out his phone.

"I am not Serena!"

He continued typing, completely ignoring me. My throat tightened. I bit down on my bottom lip, refusing to let the tears fall. I wasn't going to cry in front of him. I turned my face toward the window.

Fine. If he wanted silence, he could have it. I wiped the corner of my eye before he could notice.

Silence is a sign of disrespect, huh?

A small, bitter smile tugged at my lips.

Let's see how your family reacts to that.