Page 74 of Imperfect Desires

My stomach turns.

“Good morning, bride,” he says with a smile that makes my skin crawl.

I don’t answer.

He picks up the dress and stands, walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. “Put this on. We’ll be married within the hour. The officiant is on his way.”

I freeze. "No."

He tilts his head. “No?”

“I’m not marrying you.”

The slap is brutal.

Pain explodes across my face, blinding and sharp. My head jerks to the side, and I stumble back, disoriented. Heat blooms across my cheek. I taste blood in my mouth.

I barely catch myself before I hit the ground.

“You’ll learn,” Mendes growls, voice like ice. “You’ll follow orders. You’ll do as you’re told.”

Rage explodes in my skull, and I lunge at him. I claw, kick, and punch. My nails scrape across his neck, my knee drives into his thigh. I hit him wherever I can reach. It’s uncoordinated, untrained, and wild.

Fuck, I should have paid more attention to the training section that my father, and then Viktor insisted on.

He grabs both my wrists, effortlessly spins me around, and slams me onto a bed in the corner. He towers over me, breathing heavier now, his expression dark.

“You want to fight?” he mutters. “Then I’ll show you what happens to fighters.”

He’s on me before I can move.

The weight of his body pins me down, one knee pressing between my thighs, his hands wrapping around my wrists and forcing them into the mattress above my head. The air is yankedfrom my lungs. I squirm, but it’s useless—he’s stronger, bigger. Merciless.

His breath is hot and rancid against my cheek.

Terror floods me. A cold, sinking dread that begins in the pit of my stomach and spreads like venom through my veins. My heart pounds against my ribcage, and my ears are filled with thunder.

He leans in closer, so close I can feel the humidity of his breath when he whispers, “I was going to wait. Out of respect for your brother. Until the vows were said.”

His mouth is at my ear now. “But you’ve got fire in you, Alina. Maybe you’re ready. Maybe now’s the time to start fulfilling your duties as my wife.”

His free hand skims down my side, and I go cold—colder than I’ve ever felt in my life.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My body freezes beneath him, locked in a cage of horror.

“I think it’s time,” he says softly, as if this is something romantic, and sacred. “Time to put a baby in you.”

A sound rips from my throat. A desperate, shattered noise I don’t even recognize as mine.

Panic surges violently.

I twist beneath him, fighting with everything I have left. “No! Please—no!”

My voice is hoarse. My lungs feel like they’re tearing open. I can feel my heartbeat in my skull.

Not like this. Not here. Not him.

Tears burn down my cheeks. My pride crumbles, replaced by survival. By desperation.

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