Page 1 of Beast's Wife

Chapter One

Morgan Rose looked at the resplendent house from where she’d been admiring the sprawling lawn. She couldn’t quite understand that this was her home now. It had to have been two weeks since it happened. Her family, desperate for money, had gone to the only man they knew, a man known as The Beast. For the longest time, she had heard about this Beast everyone was so afraid of. Some people were even terrified of uttering his name. Children shied away from saying it, especially after their parents would give them a good slap around the back of the head to stop them.

The name literally instilled fear in people, at least people she had come to know. What made it worse? The people she knew were bad. Unlike in the movies where good people had family gatherings and everyone was happy, most of the gatherings she had seen resulted in someone dying.

Life had not been easy.

She’d been witness to families being annihilated because of one member who did something wrong. Sometimes, the judgment was that everyone paid the price. It was designed to keep everyone in line, the ultimate control.

For many years, she had spent a great deal of time wondering what it would mean to be like the families she saw in the movies, or read about in books. The kind that were normal. Where get-togethers didn’t result in blood being spilled, or someone having to learn their place. A time she wouldn’t have to worry about her parents doing something that would put the death mark on their heads. They did not follow a family or cult, but a man she only knew as Romone. Everyone had to follow his rules, and those that decided they were above him didn’t survive.

Her family was in control of some of the women they transported. She lost count of the number of women she heard begging for their lives, pleading to be let go. Everyone under Romone’s rule had a part to play. She knew there were families that controlled the drugs, the guns; she’d even heard of organ donation being done. She figured it was the illegal black market. Throughout it all, there was one consistency. One man seemed to instill fear into everyone, and even Romone couldn’t control him.

That man was The Beast.

She didn’t know how he was able to get away with it. So many people were afraid of him. Now, that very man was her husband. The wedding and everything after was kind of a haze as when her family had been trying to appease him, they hadn’t considered how ill she’d been when they brought her to him.

They didn’t have a wedding night. In fact, in the two weeks they’d been married, she’d been out of it. Beast had taken care of her.

She didn’t know if he had any other name. Everyone always referred to him as The Beast. She did know he’d cared for her, gotten her well, and once she was over the worst, he had informed her that all of her family were dead. Morgan didn’t ask him why.

Growing up, she learned not to ask questions. It didn’tmean she didn’t have a ton of them, but there was no way she was going to ask this stranger why he’d killed her family. Not that she mourned them. Her family had been cruel.

She had a horrible memory of a young woman trying to escape the house, her brother beating her, as well as her father and uncles. They made an example of her, scarring her up, but made sure she was still alive. For many years, that woman worked at their home.

Morgan had tried to be nice to her, leave her food, anything to offer comfort. Nothing helped, and one day, the woman had taken her own life. One of the other maids had caught her hanging from a rope, her body swinging. Morgan hadn’t seen it, but she heard the others gossip.

She had seen people on The Beast’s property. None of them appeared to be marked, or cuffed, or tagged. They all looked happy, like this was their home. She didn’t know if it was fake or not.

At the sound of the door opening, she looked up to see the man himself step out onto the patio. Beast was tall, muscular. He wore a pair of black slacks and a crisp white top, the ink that covered his arms and body only hinted at through the white shirt. He looked every part the businessman, only out of place. The scars on his face told a story. Three lines down the right side of his face, more of them on his neck. He had thick black hair, with just a few hints of grey, as well as blue eyes, angry, sharp, focused. He moved swiftly, nothing wasted. This man was filled with purpose.

She watched him, unable to look away, as he was her husband.

Even though he was scarred, she knew there were plenty of women who would have him. They wouldn’t care about the scars, because of his wealth, his station. She had heard many women talk about him as if he was the ultimate dream, evenwithin their world. The man everyone feared.

Morgan now belonged to him. He’d killed her family. She didn’t know if that meant she would be the last to go.

“Lunch is ready,” he said.

She nodded her head and then moved, stepping off the wet grass and walking toward him. Beast didn’t move. It was strange to think of him as Beast. That was not his name, she was sure of it.

Tucking some of her blonde hair back behind her ear, she reached down for the towel she’d brought out to wash her feet. Back at home, the consequences for causing a mess had been too severe to not remember. She tried not to shudder just thinking about it.

Once her feet were nice and dry, she stood up to find her husband was still staring at her, but he looked … angry, or at least angrier. Had he hoped for her to cause a mess so he could hurt her? No, that would be insane.

Her family were constantly complaining, telling her she needed to follow the rules. She had many scars on her back, her ass, and even her thighs to prove it.

It did make her wonder many times how her parents were going to be able to explain that number of scars. There was a time she had screamed at them, as the pain had been so bad. They had laughed at her, told her men didn’t want a disobedient wife, and in fact, it would give any husband she married permission to do what was right.

She’d felt so helpless. No one had been there to defend her.

The Beast spun on his heel, and she had to hurry to catch up with him. The man was like a machine, and all she could do was pick up the pace.

Once inside the dining room, she was again taken aback by the sheer size of the house. This man lived in total luxury.Also, it surprised her that everyone seemed to know where he lived.

Her husband walked to the table, pulled out a chair at the head, and waited. Clenching her hands into fists, she stepped up to him and sat down. He pushed her chair back under, and she waited, watching him as he sat down, and within seconds, they were being served lunch.

There were several cold meats, cheeses, pickles, crackers, and breads, along with pieces of dried and fresh fruit.

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