Page 56 of My Ruthless Husband

The man I married is gone, replaced by this heartless stranger. Or maybe he was like this from the beginning but I was blind.

“Then give me a divorce,” I say, weakly. A plea for freedom, for a way out of this suffocating relationship.

A dangerous glint shines in his black eyes. “That’ll never happen in this lifetime.”

My heart sinks. He’s not going to let me go, and the realization is like a lead weight pressing down on me.

“You can’t keep me here against my wishes!”

With a chilling certainty, he says, “I can, and I will.”

I stumble back, the words rattling through me.

“How long do you expect me to continue living like this, trapped in a loveless marriage?” Desolation fills me as I utter those words.

“For as long as I see fit. Try to run or harm yourself again, and your best friend—the one you hold so dear? I’ll make sure she suffers, right in front of you.”

My blood runs cold. “Y-you c-can’t do that.”

“Can’t I?” He tilts his head.

He’s literally threatening me with Summer’s wellbeing. Summer, the one person who’s always been there for me, is now a pawn in his cruel game. I have to protect her, even if it means enduring this torment myself.

For now, I have nothing compared to what he has—the resources, the power at his fingertips. Trying to fight him would only leave me and the people I care about hurt beyond repair.

I can only hope that I can shield the people I care about from his malevolence. And in order to attain that, I’ll have to obey him and wait until I can find a way out of this mess.

“Fine. I will stay.”

“That was never an option for you to agree on,” he grips my chin and lifts it. “I mean it, River. If you ever even think about hurting yourself again, I will make your best friend’s life a living hell and enjoy every second of it.”

I pale. I feel a cold sweat break out along my skin as I swallow hard. Then I think of what he said earlier about Dad. So I gather my courage and ask the questions that’s haunting me, “Damian, would you tell me what my dad did to you?”

The moment I mention Dad he shuts down completely, a wall of ice settling over his features. The room feels colder, more oppressive. It’s obvious he has no intention of discussing this any further; his outburst earlier was as much as he’s willing to reveal. But I can’t back down now. I need answers. I don’t know when I’ll find the courage to bring this up again, so I might as well ask now, even if my heart is pounding in my chest.

“I’ve agreed to your demands,” I tell him. “But don’t you think I should know why I am in this predicament to begin with?”

No answer.

“Did you marry me because of my father?” I ask anyway, my voice trembling slightly.

His silence is the subtle, harsh agreement that hangs in the air like a heavy cloud. My lower lip trembles when I see that his expression is filled with distaste.

“But you want me.” I’m sure of that fact. I’ve always seen naked want in his eyes for me. It can’t be faked.

“I have an insatiable sexual appetite and you were always available.” His words hit me like a slap and my eyes fill with tears. Swallowing thickly, I nod in dismay.

It feels like he’s purposely hurting me just for bringing up my father. It’s awful. Just awful and so painful to hear someone you love say such things to you.

I try hard to keep my emotions in check but a tear slides down my cheek. His eyes follow the tear’s progress and his jaw clenches. I wipe it quickly. But I’m horrified when another tear escapes. So I avert my face.

That’s when my gaze lands on a black invitation card resting on his desk. Just to do something with my trembling hands, I reach for it.

The invitation card is sleek, black with elegant, silver embossing. In the upper corner, there’s an intricately engraved emblem representing the mental health charity hosting the gala. Beneath the emblem, in bold silver letters, is Damian’s name as one of the prominent attendees.

I read the date and realize that it’s four days from now. It sparks an idea. I turn back to him, my voice shaking but determined. “Damian, I have one request.”

He’s silent for a moment, likely trying to make sense of how I can go from crying to asking for something in the span of just a minute.

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