Page 79 of Beautiful Beast

I turn back to the painting with a sigh and try to make out what Erik is saying. This contemplative version of him is new. It’s not unpleasant, I’ll admit.

“I see …” The kids in the painting cause a pang in my chest. I hold my hand to my heart. I can feel Erik watching me through his mask. Somehow, it makes the moment even more vulnerable.

“I see loneliness,” I admit.

“How so?” he asks softly.

“These two kids are on their own. While they seem like they’re having fun, they’re not free. They’re just children. They need to return home to their parents, or if they don’t have any parents, then they need to return to a life that isn’t made for children. They don’t get to just be … children.”

“Like you.”

I gasp and turn to him. “What do you mean?”

“Your father beat you, Anya. Your mother died when you were ten. You had to take care of Nadia. Did you ever get to just … be a child? Get to be free?”

His words hit me in my core. I blink back the sudden tears.

“No,” I whisper. “I never got to be free. I’m still not free.”

“Because you’re married to me. But we can change that.”

“Being married to you?”

He laughs slightly. “Don’t get your hopes up that much. I’ve only lived my life with freedom. I kill who I want. Hurt who I want. Make more money than most people can even fathom. I have everything.”

“So, then, why do you seem unhappy?”

“You think I’m unhappy?” He stands closer to me, his fingers skimming against my hand.

“I do. I’m not allowed to be happy. My father made that his mission in life. But you, the man who has everything, is not any more happy than I am. Why is that?”

“Maybe because I’ve been alone most of my life, too.”

We stare at each other behind our masks. They act as a shield, a way to protect us from what we’re saying, but we’re still saying it anyway. The truth is Erik and I are having a moment.

And I don’t want it to end.

“You asked me how you can make me happy?”

He nods and slips his fingers through mine. “Yes.”

“Don’t treat me with coldness. I’m not sure how much more of it I can take.”

“I’ll offer you a deal. I’ll try not to be so cold if you agree to give me a chance. Forget everything I said about marrying you for practical reasons. I did all that, yes. But things have changed. What I’m feeling right now, Anya, isn’t practical.”

“What are you feeling?”

He leans down so his lips are right above my own. “I’m feeling like I want to kiss you.”

Once we cross this line, there’s no going back.

I may hate Erik still, but I have to admit I don’t hate him all the time. I might even like him sometimes in a sick, twisted way.

“So, kiss me,” I say, challenging him.

Erik grabs my face and presses his lips to mine. It’s a little rough. I know what that means: He’s claiming me as his own.

I clutch his shoulders as he walks us back to the wall. He presses me against it and kisses me harder. It’s a strange thought that this man is someone who has seen all of me, but we’ve never truly kissed like a husband and wife before.

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