Chapter 7
Chapter 7
ROSALIE
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The day felt heavy, filled with unspoken words and tension that hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. After Damien’s cruel move that morning, canceling my card without warning, I’d spent most of the day trying to hold myself together. I could still feel the burn of his words, the mockery in his voice as he watched me realize what he’d done. He’d cut off my access to my own finances, as if it were nothing, as if I were nothing.
To distract myself from the lingering bitterness, I decided to make dinner. The steady rhythm of chopping vegetables, the heat from the stove–it all gave me something to focus on. I was slicing peppers when I heard footsteps behind me, heavy and deliberate, and without turning around, I knew exactly who it was. Damien.
Before I could react, his hand brushed against my back, sending a shiver up my spine. I flinched, and in response, I felt his fingers grip my arm, pulling me slightly toward him. His breath was warm against my neck, and I felt him press his body closer to mine.
“Rosebud,” he murmured in a low voice, sending a chill through me. His other hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, before his fingers slid down to my jaw. He tilted my face toward his, forcing me to look into his eyes. His gaze was dark, intense, and possessive.
I turned my head slightly, trying to break free from his hold, but it only made him tighten his grip. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against mine in a forceful, hungry kiss. I gasped in surprise, my body instinctively pulling away, but he held me in place, deepening the kiss, his tongue demanding entrance.
I pushed against his chest, my hands against his shirt, but he was relentless. He dominated the kiss, taking what he wanted, his lips bruising mine as if to remind me who was in charge. The kiss was nothing like the soft, tender ones. It was a warning, a declaration of power. I had no say in the matter.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. My lips tingled from the force of his kiss, but the anger inside me flared. I shoved him away, my hands pushing against his broad chest.
“How dare you touch me?” I spat, my voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear.
Damien smirked, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as if the kiss had been nothing more than an inconvenience to him. “You are my wife Rosalie, I have every right to touch you however I want to.” he whispered, his eyes dark with an unsettling promise. “Soon, you won’t be able to resist me. And I’ll have you.”
He stepped back, leaving the threat hanging in the air, and walked out of the kitchen. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. I hadn’t realized I was gripping the knife so tightly until I felt the sharp pain in my hand. I put it down, pressing my palms together to calm the tremor that had taken over. The meal–I needed to focus on that, finish cooking, and put on a strong front, no matter how fragile I felt.
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“Dinner,” I said stiffly, placing the plates on the table in front of him, trying to avoid looking at him too much. I didn’t want him to see how much his touch affected me.
Damien picked up his fork without a word and took a bite. The silence was oppressive, and I could feel his gaze boring into me as he chewed. I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable eruption. And then, it came.
“What the hell is this?” Damien’s voice was low, but the anger in it was unmistakable. He put the fork down with an exaggerated slowness, his eyes narrowing as he glared at me.
I froze. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice small, dreading the inevitable confrontation.
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“Don’t play stupid,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “This tastes like you dumped an entire jar of pepper in it. Did you do this on purpose?” His tone was sharp, accusing.
I felt my heart race, panic bubbling up in my chest. “No, I swear, I didn’t mean to!” I stammered, my hands trembling as I reached for my own fork, trying to salvage some semblance of normalcy.
Damien’s eyes were cold, his lips curling into a mocking smile. “Oh, I see. So it was an accident?” He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “You really think I’m going to believe that, Rosalie? You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?”
“I wasn’t trying to-” I started, but he cut me off, his voice growing louder.
“What do you want to say?” His face twisted with frustration and anger. “That you weren’t trying to get back at me for canceling your card? Do you think I am a fool Rosalie? Is this some petty little act of revenge?”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “No,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “It wasn’t like that.”
Damien stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Without a word, he walked to the kitchen, returning moments later with the pepper shaker in his hand. “If you like it so spicy, why don’t we add a little more?”
Before I could respond, he twisted the cap and shook more pepper over my plate, shaking it vigorously until the entire plate was covered in a thick layer of pepper.
My stomach turned at the sight, and I instinctively recoiled, but Damien was quick to sit back down. His eyes never left me as he pushed the plate back toward me.
“Eat,” he ordered, his voice cold and commanding.
I stared at the food, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Damien, please…” I whispered, my voice pleading. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“You’re going to eat it, Rosalie,” he said darkly, his tone brokering no argument. “You don’t get to act like the victim here. You’re the one who messed up, and now you’re going to finish it. Every single bite.”
His words hit me like a physical blow. I felt my hands shake as I reached for my fork, unable to look him in the eyes. Every bite burned, the pepper scorching my throat, making my eyes water. My body screamed for me to stop, to push the plate away, but Damien’s eyes bore into me, his expression unreadable.
“Damien please. I need water!” I begged, tears stinging my eyes. But I got silence as a response. I tried to stand up, but he shot me an icy glare, a warning of what he’d do to me if I stopped eating.
“Damien I need water. Get me water. Please I am begging you” I pleaded, my voice now barely above a whisper.
I could feel my throat tightening with every bite, my stomach protesting.
“If you dare take even a little sip of water, I will deal with you so badly Rosalie. Don’t test me. Eat the nonsense you prepared. Have a taste of your own medicine.” His voice so deep and dark sent chills down my spine.
My head spun as the heat from the pepper coursed through my body. But still, I kept eating, because I knew that if I didn’t, the consequences would be worse.
Damien leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. “Next time you think about being petty,” he said coldly, “remember who’s in control here.”
Something snapped inside me. “Control?” My voice was barely a whisper, but I knew he heard it. “This isn’t control, Damien. This is cruelty.”
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Chapter 7
He raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused. “Is that what you think? That I’m being cruel?”
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“Yes,” I replied, feeling a surge of defiance that surprised even me. “You cancel my card without telling me, then accuse me of… what, plotting against you? Over food?”
He didn’t answer, just watched me, his gaze piercing, unyielding. His silence only made the anger in me burn hotter.
“You act like this marriage is a transaction–like I’m some property you bought,” I continued, my voice trembling. “But I’m not a puppet for you to control, Damien.”
The room fell silent again, but this time the air was charged, crackling with tension.
Damien’s expression hardened, and for a moment, I thought he might actually snap back at me. But then, he leaned back, a slow smile creeping onto his face.
“You’re more defiant than I remember,” he said, his voice low, almost admiring. “But defiance only makes this more… interesting.
Damien didn’t say anything more, just watched me silently, his gaze cold and unyielding. The room seemed to close in around me as I forced myself to finish the food, the taste of the pepper nearly overwhelming me.
I couldn’t hold it back again, I began coughing, my body convulsing from the pepper.
But Damien, he did nothing. He just stood, watching me as I coughed out rapidly, each fit of cough more harder than the
last.
My vision blurred, and I felt lightheaded, my body on the verge of shutting down.
When I finally set the fork down, my head spun uncontrollably, and everything went dark. My last thought before everything faded was Damien’s cold stare. He didn’t care if I passed out. He didn’t care about anything except control.
