My world seemed to stop spinning right in front of this large wooden door. The morning sunlight streaming through the cracks in the mansion's renovation brought no warmth, only a bone-chilling cold that froze my marrow. I stood frozen, pulling the disheveled silk blanket tightly against my still-aching chest. At the threshold, that figure stood with undeniable arrogance.
It wasn't Dante. That man wasn't my husband.
The man standing before me was Jax. The second brother in the family lineage that now ensnared me. He wore only a white towel wrapped around his sturdy waist, revealing perfectly sculpted abdominal muscles and a broad chest covered in dark tattoos that crept up to his neck. His hard biceps pulsed as he leaned against the doorframe, flaunting the physical strength of a mafia man accustomed to violence.
My heart skipped a beat. Those words hit me harder than any slap.
"My bed?" The words echoed in my head like a death knell. My mind was instantly filled with images of the large hands that had silenced my mouth in the darkness of the night before, hands that I now saw had the same tattoos as the man in front of me.
I was shaking violently. A sudden wave of nausea rose in my throat, bitter and suffocating. "You... what are you doing here?" My voice broke, barely audible.
Jax chuckled darkly. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a casual but threatening kick of his heel.
The click of the door lock made me feel like a mouse that had just been locked in a cage with a tiger. He walked closer, each step measured and intimidating, revealing his strong thigh muscles beneath the thin towel.
"This is my room, Reia. I should be the one asking what you're doing in my bed in that ruined wedding dress?" Jax stood directly in front of me. He was so tall that I had to look up to meet his dark, sharp eyes.
I took a step back until my back hit the hard bedpost. My whole body felt dirty. I remembered the softness I felt last night, the sensation I thought belonged to Dante. It was all a deception of darkness. I had surrendered my honor to a man who should have been my brother—a man who looked at me as if I were nothing more than a piece of meat ready for him to devour again.
His large hand suddenly rose. I closed my eyes, waiting for an attack or another rough touch. But he only used his thumb to touch my neck. There, right above my pulse, he rubbed a red bruise that felt painful.
"Look at this!" he whispered, his voice now right next to my ear, sending the same shudder of horror as the night before. "This mark... I made it. And all over your body, there are dozens of other marks that only I know where they are."
The tears I had been holding back finally fell, wetting my cheeks. I wanted to scream, to destroy his handsome but devilish face, but I had no strength left. I could only lament my fate as collateral for a debt that had now been tainted by this family's betrayal.
"Why?" I asked softly amid my sobs. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Jax pulled my chin so I would look at him. His grin widened, revealing his purest darkness. "Because Dante doesn't deserve you, Reia. And because I want to see my brother's arrogant face crumble when he finds out his wife has been mine since the first night."
Jax's thumb pressing against the bruise on my neck felt like hot wax burning my skin. I choked on my own sobs, pulling the silk blanket closer, which now felt disgusting because it had been a silent witness to last night's betrayal. My inner self screamed, cursing my stupidity for thinking that the tenderness in the darkness was another side of Dante. It turned out to be nothing more than a predator's tactic to ensnare its prey so it wouldn't fight back.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed, my voice hoarse and trembling. I tried to push his hand away, but Jax grabbed my jaw with one hand, forcing me to keep staring into his dark, triumphant eyes.
"It's too late to refuse, Reia," he whispered coldly. His face was only a few centimeters from mine. I could smell the lingering scent of tobacco on his breath, a scent that now made my stomach churn. "Last night you didn't refuse. You even returned my grip on my back. Do you want me to show you the marks your nails left on my skin?"
My world collapsed. I wanted to deny it, to say that he was lying, but the vague memory of his hard back muscles and unstoppable strength hit me. I did do it. I fought back against this man's touch because I thought he was my husband. An overwhelming sense of shame spread through my veins, making me want to die right then and there.
Jax released my jaw with a small, contemptuous jerk. He turned around, walking slowly around the large bed, showing off his broad, muscular back—and there, several fresh red scratch marks from fingernails.
"Your honorable husband Dante... he'll never give you what I gave you last night," Jax chuckled, his voice low and mocking. He took a cigarette from the nightstand, lit it, and blew smoke into the air. "He's sterile, Reia. He's cold. He only wants you for status. But me? I want you because you're the easiest way to destroy him."
"You're a devil, Jax..." I hissed between gasps for breath.
"Maybe," he replied casually. He moved closer again, this time sitting on the edge of the bed, making the mattress sink under his athletic weight. He leaned forward, his tattooed hands creeping over the blanket covering my thighs. "But you're the devil's prisoner now. Imagine what would happen if Dante walked into this room and saw the red mark on your neck? Do you think he'd forgive this bride sold by her own father?"
Terrifying fear gripped my heart. If Dante found out, my father's debt wouldn't be considered paid off. I'd be discarded, or maybe worse. I was trapped between these monsters. I had to get out of this room. Now!
With what little strength I had left, I jumped out of bed, still wrapped in my blanket. My legs trembled as they touched the cold wooden floor. I ran toward the door, ignoring the pain throughout my body. I just wanted to get back to my room, take a shower until my skin peeled off, and erase this man from my life.
However, just as my fingers touched the large wooden door handle, the door suddenly opened from the outside.
Click!
I jumped back, almost falling if I hadn't grabbed the wall. My heart was beating so fast that my ears were ringing. I hoped it was the maid, or anyone but the man who was now standing in front of me.
In the doorway stood a man in a neat white doctor's coat and silver-rimmed glasses. He looked very calm, clean, and starkly contrasted with the messy atmosphere in this room. However, when his gaze fell on my bare shoulders and the conspicuous red mark on my neck, his sharp eyes flashed behind his glasses.
That was Joan. Dante's third sister, the Doctor.
Joan didn't say anything for a few seconds. She looked at me, then turned to look at Jax, who was still sitting casually on the bed wearing only a towel. A cold, thin smile appeared on Joan's face as she looked back at me, her gaze seeming to clinically dissect every inch of my body.
"It seems I've come at the wrong time for the morning check-up, Brother-in-Law," Joan's voice was soft yet carried a hidden threat. She stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and placed her medical bag on the table with a soft thud that made my heart skip a beat. "Or perhaps... I've come just in time to treat that wound on your neck?"