Page 57 of Beautifully Damned
?Chapter XXXVI?
AYLA
It’s been a week since Roman Volkov became my husband, and I haven’t spoken a single word to him since then. I pretend he doesn't exist. If I hear his voice echoing through the halls, I stay in my room. If I hear his footsteps, I put on music. If he lingers by my door, I lock it.
Elena tried, bless her. She brought me tea once and sat at the edge of my bed. Her voice was soft, gentle. “Talk to me. Let it out. ”
But I didn’t want to scream or cry. So I shook my head and turned away. She left quietly. Later, she handed me a key to my bedroom without saying a word.
Roman tried the handle the third night and found it locked. If he wanted to consummate the marriage, it better be in his dreams. I’d castrate him.
I eat alone. I sleep alone. I exist like a ghost in this house of wolves. But today, something inside me snaps. I throw my hair up, shove my feet into slippers, and storm downstairs.
Matvey’s by the door, talking to another guard I don’t recognize. He must be a new one from Russia, fresh out of training and shipped here. I march up to them, heart pounding but chin high.
“Matvey,” I snap, planting myself in front of him with all the authority I can muster, “I want a phone. Right now.”
He stares at me like I grew a second head. His eyes dart to the guard behind him, then back to me.
I raise my hand and wiggle my ring finger. The massive diamond catches the chandelier light and shoots prisms acrossthe marble floor. “Do you see this?” I ask, voice syrupy sweet. “Pakhan’s wife. Which makes me your Pakhanessa, or whatever you guys call it. So give me a phone.”
Matvey’s expression flattens. “I need to clear it with him.”
“Then clear it,” I huff, arms folded.
He squints at me like he’s trying to decide if I’m serious, and then—to my horror—he starts laughing.
“What?!” I bark, feeling my cheeks burn.
He doubles over, wiping his eyes. “You sound just like my toddler when she demands ice cream.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Same stomp. Same scowl.” He mimes my posture, voice pitched high. “‘Matvey! I want a phone, now!’”
I fume, wishing I had something to throw. But instead, I press my lips together and look away.
Matvey snorts and steps aside to take a call. I assume it’s Roman, judging by how far he moves away and the quiet urgency in his voice. I try not to fidget, but my fingers keep brushing over the diamond.
When he returns, there’s no smirk.
“Follow me,” he says, curt.
That’s it? That easy? He leads me into Roman’s office. The room smells like cedar wood and smoke. The curtains are half-drawn, the desk scattered with papers and two empty tumblers. Matvey pulls open a drawer, rummages around, and hands me an older model phone. It’s slightly scratched on the edges.
“Here you go.”
I let out an involuntary squeal and throw my arms around him, hugging him tight. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Okay,” he coughs awkwardly, patting my back twice. “That’s enough. This isn’t helping your case if you want to seem scary.”
I grin and pull away, practically bouncing on my toes. But before I can leave, Matvey leans in. Not close enough to touch,but close enough that I feel the change in air between us. His eyes aren’t teasing anymore.
“Listen,” he says quietly. “The phone… it's tapped. Just know that, okay?”
The smile fades from my face. He straightens again and walks past me, pretending he didn’t say anything. But I know that he said it of his own free will, and that Roman would probably rip him a new one if he ever found out. And for that, I’m thankful. The people in this place are risking their safety for me, and I don’t know why. How can they like me but their leader hate me?
I stare down at the device in my hand. It feels less like a lifeline now and more like a leash. Every time I think I’m closer to freedom, it’s actually me walking into a gold-plated cage.
