Page 18 of Beautiful Beast

“Honestly? I don’t care about you at all. I only married you for the connection to your father.”

His brutal honesty makes me flinch. “So, then, why even talk?”

“Because now that I’ve met you, I’m fascinated. I can tell you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You’re afraid. It’s ok. I know the reputation I have. I would suspect you’re not human if you weren’t afraid of me.” His thumb traces circles into my thigh. The satiny fabric of my dress keeps sending goosebumps over my skin. It’s all I can think about. His hand on my thigh. How powerless I am.

“But,” he says, “you’re also not as afraid as I thought you’d be, which I find intriguing. Why did you not back away down theaisle? Are you just as power hungry as I am? Wanted to marry a wealthy, successful Bratva man?”

“I don’t care about those things.”

“No? Everyone cares about those things.”

“Well, I don’t. I wish I’d never been born into the Bratva. If I were just a normal girl, I’d have more freedom.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” I say. “But there has to be some truth to it.”

“You could’ve been born into a religious cult that tied you up in a basement. Your life could be different in so many ways. But you were born a Bratva daughter. That’s who you are. Most women within the Bratva would want to marry a man like me.”

I scoff. “Arrogant much?”

His hand stills on my thigh. “It’s not arrogance. It’s just fact. I have money. I have power. Status. I’ve been told I’m handsome. What woman wouldn’t want that?”

“You also have a reputation for doing bad things to people. I don’t think any woman would want to be married to a man who eats babies.”

His laugh is much more light this time. “Who told you that? I don’t eat babies.”

“You torture people, though. I’ve heard the stories from my father. From other Bratva woman.”

“They were right about that. I do torture people, and I like it. Does that frighten you?”

“Of course it does. Are you going to torture me?”

He pats my thigh before removing his hand. I breathe a sigh of relief.

“If you’re asking me if I’m going to beat you senseless, then no. I have no desire to do that. I only torture people who piss me off.”

“What if I … upset you? Will you hurt me then?” I need to know so I can prepare myself. Erik is too much of an unknown variable.

“I’d probably give you a spanking to get you in line.”

All the air leaves my body.

Erik chuckles again. “There. You finally look truly scared. You never answered my question from before. Why did you not run from me down the aisle? Why did you attend our wedding?”

I duck my chin and stare down at my lap. My thigh burns from where he touched me. “I tried to run away, but my father caught me and forced me down the aisle. You think I’m brave, but I was just trying to do the right thing.”

“Which is?”

Protect my sister at all costs.

“He would’ve made my life worse if I hadn’t married you,” I say instead. “So, I walked down the aisle because it was my duty, like I said.” I lift my head back up and look him straight in the eye. “I’m prepared to do my duty.”

“Mmm.” His eyes roam over my face. When he brings his hand toward my cheek, I flinch, expecting him to hit me. But he doesn’t. “Interesting,” he says, skimming the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “You flinched.”

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