Page 49 of Beautiful Beast

“It was your idea to marry Nadia off.”

“Your father would’ve done it the second she turned eighteen. Viktor may be an aloof man, but from my understanding, he’s not a mean man. He doesn’t have a reputation of hurting women. Your fate was to get married, Anya, and so is your sister’s. You might want to learn to accept that sooner rather than later.”

“Why?”

“If you want to be happy at all.”

I stare up at the ceiling, hating how my hard my heart pounds and how flushed my face is. Erik isn’t wrong, I admit. I want to be happy. I don’t want all this anger inside me.

But how can I be happy when I despise my father, and Erik only ever treats me with a cold, clinical-ness that makes me feel even more alone?

“You speak so practically,” I tell him.

“Because I’m a practical man.”

“I know. But there’s no passion inside you, Erik.”

“Trust me. I have a lot of passion inside me when I’m killing and fucking.”

My face burns hot. “With me, I mean. You don’t treat me with passion. You’re so cold with me. How can I ever be happy with you when you treat me like that?”

“Do you even want to try and be happy with me? I thought you wanted to keep that chip on your shoulder.”

“I thought you liked the chip on my shoulder.”

His lips quirk into a small smile. “True. I find your attitude fascinating. Most people would never even dream of speaking to me the way you speak to me.”

“I’m not most people, Erik. I’m your wife. And I know now there’s no getting around that. I’ve come to accept that part of things. But I can’t accept my sister being miserable. I can’t accept her getting hurt.”

“You can’t save everyone, Anya. Now, you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to be happy with me?”

“Of course, I would love to be happy. I don’t want to be filled with hate and anger and sadness. But I don’t know if I can trust you. You’ve said as much.”

“That’s because I’m not sure what I would do with your feelings. I know the kind of man I am. I do things to benefit myself. That’s why you can’t trust me.”

“So, how can I ever be happy with you if I can’t trust you?”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” he asks. “Go to sleep, Anya. You’re going to work yourself up.”

“I’m already worked up.”

“I could help you with that.” There’s a strong implication in his voice. I know what he means byhelp. He could touch me. Show me pleasure, I’m sure. I still think about how he spanked me and how close his fingers were to that pleasurable spot between my legs. How good it felt for him to touch me on my lower backside, even though he’d just shown me pain.

I could’ve opened my legs. If I’d done that, it probably would’ve changed everything between us. But I can’t see Erik as anything other than a monster.

“I’m good,” I respond.

“Ok, then.” He rolls onto his side, keeping his back to me. “I thought you should know that your father, Viktor, and a few of our men are going to come over here for a party later in the week to celebrate us all working together.”

“My father will be here?” I hate how my heartrate spikes.

“He will be. But, Anya, I won’t let him hit you again. That is one thing I can promise.”

And it’s that promise that makes my body lose some of its tension and allows me to finally fall asleep next to the man who confuses yet excites me.

The sight of my father walking through Erik’s front door makes me want to vomit.

I’m in a red evening gown befitting a get together such as this. Erik is in a classic navy suit. He looks handsome; I have to admit.

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