Chapter 2: The Morning After 

[ SAMANTHA'S POV ]

The morning light didn’t feel warm. It came through the curtains and forced my tired eyes open. My neck was stiff, and my back ached from sleeping curled up at the very edge of the mattress, but the physical soreness was nothing compared to the deep, aching rawness between my thighs. I felt sticky and completely ruined, a constant, humiliating reminder of the way he had taken me the night before, rough, thoughtless, and heavy. I had stayed frozen in that exact same position all night, too terrified to move or even breathe too loudly. Every little sound in the house had made my heart race, keeping me trapped in the memory of his weight pressing me into the mattress.

I slowly turned my head, trying to keep the silk sheets from rustling. David hadn't moved. He lay flat on his stomach across the center of the bed, his massive frame taking up almost all the space. His dark hair was a messy tangle against the crisp white pillows, and one heavily muscled arm hung over the side, his fingers brushing the hardwood floor.

Trying to act like a ghost, I slid my legs out from under the heavy blanket. The moment my bare feet touched the freezing floor, a sharp shiver shot straight up my spine. I stood a few feet from the bed, my muscles tight and trembling from the cold, before walking quietly toward the full-length mirror by the dark wood wardrobe.

I looked like a mess. The high, stiff collar of my wedding dress was crushed and stained with dirt from my failed escape through the window bars. The thick makeup my mother had ordered the maids to plaster on my face was smeared across my cheeks. But no amount of powder could hide the dark purple bruise blooming along my jawline, a parting gift from my father's hand before they dragged me to the courthouse.

A low, rough groan broke the heavy silence.

Through the mirror's reflection, I watched David stir. He rolled onto his back with a thud that shook the entire bed frame, pressing his palm hard against his forehead. His face twisted into a deep grimace; last night's alcohol was clearly splitting his head open. He blinked against the bright morning light, staring blankly up at the ceiling as his brain sluggishly tried to reboot.

Then, his head turned, and his eyes locked onto me.

He didn't look angry at first, just confused. His gaze was dull and unfocused, trying to process why a strange woman was standing in his bedroom. For three agonizing seconds, neither of us moved. Nobody breathed.

Then, the fog cleared. His eyes went wide with sudden shock. He sat straight up in bed, the sheets twisting violently around his legs as his chest heaved. The muscles in his shoulders went completely rigid under his half-unbuttoned dress shirt. Any trace of morning warmth vanished, replaced by a sudden, suffocating tension.

"Who the fucking hell are you?" David barked.

The words hit me like a physical blow. His voice was incredibly rough, a deep, dangerous roar full of pure shock and a wild, explosive anger that sent my heart straight into my throat.

I stumbled backward, my heart hammering against my ribs. The heavy train of the wedding dress caught around my ankles, making me trip. Panic choked out my voice. Scrambling backward, I pulled the thick silk blanket up to my chin like a shield, shaking violently under his glare.

He doesn't know, the thought hit me with terrifying clarity. He has no idea who I am. The alcohol had completely wiped his memory of the courthouse. He thought I was an intruder.

David lunged out of bed, his tall, imposing frame towering over me and casting a dark shadow across my face. Ignoring his headache, he gripped his dark hair tightly, his eyes darting frantically around the room. He looked at the heavy double doors, the high ceiling, the custom designer furniture. He was checking every single corner, trying to make sure he was actually in his own home.

It was his house, all right. Everything in it belonged to him.

Except me.

His gaze snapped back to the bed, his breathing coming in heavy, fast gasps. His eyes raked over my shaking body, stopping at my smeared makeup and the ruined wedding dress peeking out from under the blanket. The confusion on his face quickly curdled into deep disgust.

"N-no..." I stammered, my teeth literally clicking together in the quiet room. "I'm... I'm not a thief. I'm not a maid. I'm…."

"Shut up," he snapped, cutting me off with a cold, vicious glare that froze the blood in my veins.

He took a heavy, deliberate step closer to the bed, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I don't care what game you're playing," he whispered, his voice dangerously low now, vibrating with pure venom. "I don't care who paid you to crawl into my bed while I was too drunk to notice. You think you can just sit there and play dumb?"

He didn't give me a single second to answer. He spun on his heel and marched straight toward the wall intercom near the entrance. He slammed his hand down on the button, his whole body stiff with rage.

"Get up here right now!" David roared into the speaker, his voice booming so loudly it shook the light fixtures. "Security! Get into my room now!"

The silence that followed was agonizing. He kept his back to me, his shoulders rising and falling with every angry breath. I stayed pinned to the mattress, clutching the blanket against my chest as if it could save me from whatever was coming next. Tears of pure shame and raw fear finally blurred my vision, running hot down my cold face.

In less than a minute, the heavy wooden double doors burst open with a loud bang.

Two guards in sharp black suits rushed into the room, hands instinctively moving toward the weapons at their belts. They expected an assassin or a serious threat. Instead, they took one look at David's furious face and the ruined state of the bedding, and immediately stopped, standing straight at rigid attention.

David turned slowly, pointing a shaking, angry finger straight at me.

"Why is this girl in my room? " David demanded, his voice dropping to a low, deadly hiss that sent a chill straight down my spine. He took a slow step toward them, his presence completely suffocating the room. "Where the hell is my wife?!”