Page 8 of Till Death Saves Me

I swallow hard, unsure how to respond. This glimpse of vulnerability from Ivan throws me off balance. It's so at odds with the cold, dismissive man I thought I knew.

"I... I understand," I manage, giving him a stiff nod.

His hand, now resting on my hip, gives a gentle squeeze. The gesture, meant to be reassuring, only makes my body jolt.

I may be a virgin but I'm not a fucking nun. And my husband…he is too fine. The anxiety of this whole wedding has already worked me up, and I can't stop the bloom of heat that spreads through my body as the lust creeps in.

I swallow it back, though. He said he won't make me miserable. But he doesn't want this. I can't let my mind get confused. This is an arranged marriage.

One I'm just trying to survive.

5

IVAN

Iguide Virginia through the grand entryway of my home, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. After hours, that fucking reception is finally over and I'm ready to rip my tie off and knock back some whiskey to soothe the irritation scratching under my skin.

It's been getting the better of me lately, which is not like me.

The sound of her heels echoes through the cavernous space, amplifying the silence between us. I can't help but notice her eyes widen as she takes in the crystal chandelier, the sweeping staircase, the priceless artwork adorning the walls.

A surge of satisfaction swells in my chest. This is the life I've built, the fruits of my labor and cunning. But as quickly as it rises, irritation floods in to replace it. Her presence here feels like an intrusion, a blemish on my carefully curated world.

Her eyes roam over the elegant furnishings, the art, every curated piece of my open floor plan downstairs. For a moment, I see my home through her eyes - the tasteful decor, the clear display of wealth and power. Pride wells up again, warring with the resentment of having to share any of it.

"It's beautiful," she murmurs, her voice soft.

I grunt in response, unsure how to react to her appreciation. It's easier to fall back on cold indifference.

I lead Virginia to the living room, gesturing for her to sit. She perches on the edge of the leather sofa, her posture rigid. I remain standing, looming over her.

"Let's get one thing straight. This marriage is a business arrangement, nothing more." My voice is cold, detached. "There are rules you will follow."

I tick them off on my fingers, my tone leaving no room for argument. "One, we act married in public. Two, you do not leave this house without a guard. Three, you will attend events with me, no questions asked. Four, use only the phone and credit card I've provided. They're in your room."

Virginia's eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn't interrupt.

"We will not share a room," I continue. "And don't get any ideas about getting attached. This is purely transactional."

She nods, her face a mask of indifference that almost rivals my own. Almost.

"Are we... are we going to see other people?" she asks, her voice carefully neutral.

The question hits me like a punch to the gut. Irritation flares hot and fast, catching me off guard. My jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in my cheek.

"Why? Do you want to?" The words come out harsher than I intend, laced with an edge I don't fully understand.

I'll fuck her when I need to have my own kids. I need a family. But to be her lover, to hold her after, and whisper sweet nothings…Well, she won't find that in me.

And I also don't want her find it in someone fucking else. She's my damn wife, and my fists clench at the idea of another man going near her.

She's mine.

Virginia tilts her chin up, meeting my gaze. "I'm asking if you're going to."

I scoff, but the sound feels hollow in my ears. "That's none of your concern."

The irritation continues to build, a restless energy crawling under my skin. I turn away, pacing the length of the room. Why does her question bother me so much? It shouldn't matter. This is a business arrangement, nothing more.

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