Page 66 of My Ruthless Husband

It’s ironic, really. I feel safe in his embrace. His gaze, empty of any warmth or empathy, should make me feel uneasy. But strangely, it doesn’t. Because the carnal possession in the depths of them tells me that he would keep me safe from everything. Everything but him.

My anchor and my storm.

It’s as if he knows my body better than I do, and his skilled hands send a wave of relief through me.

The tension in my neck gradually eases, and my racing heart begins to slow.

The kind of power Damian has over me is scary. I didn’t realize that I was tying the knot with the devil who would capture my soul. He may not have forced me to be his wife but he has me trapped with no way out. He is the main cause of my anxiety.

I attempt to pull away but he tightens his fingers.

“This is too much for you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You hate social gatherings.” His fingers stroke my nape, sending shivers down my spine.

“It’s better than being caged in your mansion.”

He fists my curls. “Our home.”

I press my lips in a line, stopping myself from arguing.

“Damian Montgomery.” A male voice interrupts our silent war.

A man who seems to be in his early forties with tanned skin and a well-maintained beard, grins at Damian. “Long time no see.”

He pauses at the sight of me and runs his gaze over me curiously. “And who is this beautiful lady?”

Damian stares at him as if he wants to poke his eyes out. His hand finds my hip and he glues me to his side.

“Carlos.”

I try not to gape at him when he doesn’t provide any introduction for me. Carlos doesn’t appear to notice his rudeness and asks for my name.

“River—”

“My wife,” I hear him say at the same time I offer my name. I peek at him. The asshole thinks “my wife” is equivalent to my name, my identity.

“River. What a lovely name for a lovely lady. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last.” He takes my hand and brushes his lips over my knuckles.

Damian stands rigid and unmoving, his gaze like ice as he observes the interaction.

“And you are?” I ask to be polite.

“Carlos Rodriguez at your service.” He grins, seemingly oblivious to the tension. “I’ve had the pleasure of working with your husband on a numerous projects.”

I stare up at Damian again. He never told me about Carlos. But then he never did share anything. Not since we married.

The last time he ever shared anything about his work was before our marriage. I miss those days when we used to talk so much. It’s like the person I fell in love with and the person I married are two different people. Sometimes, I miss that man,long for that friend, who used to talk to me for hours. After the wedding, it seemed like a switch had gone off. He changed. Completely.

Three well-dressed men join us, greeting Damian with familiarity.

Is he the same way to the outside world like he is with me? Cold and distant and intense.

I stand stiffly as they talk. But even in my numb state, I’m aware of his fingers in the curve of my ribcage just below my breast, stroking distractedly.

Carlos, with a charming smile says, “Damian, I have to admit, I’m quite impressed. How did you manage to win the heart of such a young beautiful woman?”

---