F I F T E E N

~ DAMIEN ~

Why am I angry?

To be honest, I don't know the reason.

Was it because Enzo managed to escape the dungeon right under Vittorio's fucking nose?

I said that boy is useless. He thinks with his muscles instead of his head.

Or was it because he dared hurt what's mine?

Or, both…

“Is he…” I stop myself from asking if he's dead. Knowing Dimitra, she would have killed him.

So, I just fix my gaze on the hot angry stuff standing before me in the gown I'd specially picked for her and holy hell, heaven knows how bad I want to rip off her cloth and finish what we started that night.

Her anger turns me on.

But I push my feelings aside and step closer to her. I grab her hands which she'd yanked away

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice coming out breathy.

Her eyes flickers to my lips, speechless for a while before her countenance changed back to anger. She yanks her hand away again and folds it across her chest.

“Of course I am.”

“So sorry about that.” I say to her and turn to Dimitra. “And you, thank you.”

“Don't thank me. You owe me a favour.”

Little piece of shit. I've already expected this.

“Till later.” I say dismissively, my eyes on Anastasia.

She shoulder bumps her. “You heard him right. We are holding it against him if he changes his mind.”

“Definitely. You've got me.” She says, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiles genuinely at her, something I've never gotten.

“Don't let him fuck your brains out until you forget.” She adds, her voice fading with her steps.

I watch her go red, her tongue peeking out to lick her lips. When she sees my eyes fixed on her lips, she snickers and steps back.

I take one closer to her. “Why didn't you wait at the lounge area just like I'd said?”

“Isn't it obvious?” She asks with a sneer. “Do I need to tell you in Italian or Taiwanese that you are no boss of me? You don't own me fucker. So quit acting like the big bad wolf before me.” She says, nose flaring.

“What part of ‘You are my wife' do you not understand?”

“The fucking concept itself.” She snaps just as her back meets the wall.

She's huffing now, so I just stand a few feet away from her, away from her wrath watching as she clenches and unclenches her fist.

“A baby machine.” She whispers.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean Ana–”

“A fucking baby machine Damien. A means to an end. That's what I am yes? Will you stop bothering me if I give you what you want? Will you?” She stops, her eyes darting around wildly. “Why am I even asking that. Ain't no fucking way I'm letting him fuck me.”

So stubborn.

“You are getting me wrong.” I finally say.

This must be Enzo’s doing. And I suddenly wish I can kill the fucker all over again.

“I don't care.” She pants before sidestepping and holding my gaze. Then, she looks away. “I want to go home.” She whispers, walking down the hallway.

I grit my teeth and grab her hand. She didn't refuse this time and willingly follow me. I guess Nonnina will have to wait till later then.

When we reach the parking lot, I open the door and she shoots me a glare before lifting her gown and stepping in, her aura still brimming with anger.

_ _ _

~ ANASTATIA ~

A baby machine.

The thought still clouds my senses.

Nothing but a baby machine.

Oh, joy! The purpose of marriage is clearly just about reproduction, because who needs love, respect, or mutual understanding? - everything Damien lacks - And, of course, I'm absolutely thrilled to be married to Damien, the love of my life. I mean, who wouldn't adore a guy who's basically a modern-day dictator with a penchant for manipulation?

But, hey, let's focus on the real issue here: my utter delight and non-existent resentment towards this whole arranged marriage thing. I'm not bitter at all about being treated like a broodmare or a prized possession. Nope, not one bit. Just bitter about him acting like he'd forgotten shit.

And that pain I'm feeling? Oh, it's just my heart overflowing with happiness and gratitude towards Damien and that dead meat. I mean, who wouldn't feel grateful for being objectified and reduced to their reproductive capabilities?

I think I need to get birth control or just remove my womb or something so I could be reduced to nothing except a baby machine or incubator in peace.

My thoughts are louder than my voice throughout the car ride. It'd been ages since I felt this way. Good I mean.

The car stops and I didn't wait for him to get off before opening the door and storming towards the entrance of the elevator. I step in and punch in the number.

Damien running towards the door was the last thing I saw as the door slid close, leaving me alone within its reflective confine, a satisfied smile on my face.

When it dings at the penthouse’ floor, I didn't really get out. I take off my heels and place it on the threshold of the elevator before walking barefooted to the door.

Yes, call me pretty but right now, without the ‘R’.

Damien Vicenzo can go drown or take the stairs for all I care.

I want to go home.

I'd said.

But this isn't even home.

I've never had one.

I sluggishly step into Damien's apartment after scanning my fingerprint. My entire body aches like hell and I feel too full. The bastard forced to to drink cups after cups of water to stay lucid.

I pick up my phone on the table and walk straight to the room before locking the door behind me.

He should take the sofa too.

I just want us to be done with this sorry excuse of a honeymoon. And it must end today. I can't give up my masters at Stanford because of marriage.

Entering the walk-in closet, I strip naked and grab a loose black shirt before picking up my gown and casually throwing it in the laundry basket after wiping off my makeup.

Then, I step out and climb into the bed and grab my phone. I spared the turning knob a disinterested look, knowing it's Damien before calling out,

“Don't disturb me. I need the room to myself. You've used it enough.”

“That's our matrimonial room Anastatia.” I hear him grumble as he turns the knob again before tuning out his voice and focusing on the mail Prof. Saunders, aka, my mortal enemy in the academic world, had sent to me.

Just good. Really really good.

I've missed a forty mark test because of my lovely husband.

Things we sacrifice for marriage.