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Arsen’s room is huge—twice as big as mine, at least. It has to be, to house the many dressers and shelves and cabinets lining the walls. It looks like a flea market in here.
I walk around, snooping through drawers of neatly arranged deodorant, shelves lined with toothbrushes and toothpaste, and enough fresh linens to stock a hotel.
I’m counting how many rolls of floss he has—nearing fifty—when I hear clipped footsteps out in the hall. I close the cabinet and turn to the door as he enters, his deep green eyes finding me immediately.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him all day. I realize all at once how soft he looked in sleep this morning. How relaxed.
Now, his jaw is sharp as he shoves an envelope at me. “Here.”
“What is this?”
The answer becomes obvious when I tear it open and half a dozen credit cards go clattering to the ground at my feet.
“Okay. It’s a collection of credit cards. Next question: why are you giving them to me?”
He tugs his shirt over his head. “Because you’re my wife, and you’ll need access to our accounts.”
“‘Ouraccounts?’” I balk. “Since when?”
“Since I added your name to them this morning. Appearances are important, Laila. People have to think I’m taking care of you.”
I don’t point out that very few people will ever see the details of our bank accounts—mostly because he unbuttons his pants, and I lose my train of thought.
I turn to face the window, my gaze well and truly averted. “People will think this is a sham, anyway.”
“Why would they?”
“Gee, I dunno—because you found another wife the day after you lost your first one. It doesn’t exactly speak volumes about our romantic connection.”
“There was no love lost between Natascha and me. That was common knowledge.”
“So you want to convince people that this is—” I bite my lip, trying to choose my words carefully. “—a love match?”
I expect him to laugh, but he answers seriously. “That’s the idea.”
Against my better instincts, I turn towards him again, doing my best to keep my eyes north of his neck. “Why?”
“Because if they think I love you, they’ll assume I’d burn the city down to avenge you. It’ll make them think twice before they attack you.”
Ah.I get it. It’s a shield. Emotions will forever and always be a tool Arsen wields, not something he actually feels.
God, that must be nice.
“Okay, well, thanks for this gift, I guess.” I shrug. “Or whatever it is. I’m gonna go to my room.”
“I thought I made myself clear last night,” he growls. “You’re my wife. You will sleep with me.”
“Funny thing about that is, it turns out we’ve been sleeping almost on top of each other since I got here. Did you know my room is right next door? I sure didn’t.”
He was keeping me close. Toying with me before I even knew it.
I can’t let my guard down. Next thing I know, there will be locks on the outside of the doors and he’ll have the only key.
“From now on, this is your room.” He’s standing in front of me in his boxer briefs and nothing else, but he might as well be in a board meeting wearing a three-piece suit. He’s in total control.
It’s the tattoos,I tell myself.The tattoos and the scars. There’s an aura to that kind of thing.
“I know what you’re playing at, Arsen.” I step closer, eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about keeping up appearances or protecting me. You just need to feel like you can control me. The big, strong boss, telling his wife what to do, where to go.”
