The Gold I Married

Chapter Nine

Alex’s frustration was palpable as he stood at the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie hanging loose. Anna sat stiffly on the edge of the mattress, her hands gripping the fabric of her robe tightly.

“I don’t understand you,” Alex muttered, his voice low but tinged with irritation. He stared at her, his jaw tightening. The rejection stung, but after a long pause, he stepped back, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Anna didn’t respond, her silence only fueling his simmering anger. Alex grabbed his discarded jacket from the chair and shrugged it back on.

“For someone so used to living off others, you have an interesting way of showing gratitude,” he snapped, his tone cutting.

Anna’s head snapped up at that, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said coldly, adjusting his cuffs. “Tomorrow, we’re going to the family mansion for dinner.”

“What?” Anna’s voice rose, her confusion mingled with defiance. “I’m not going. You can’t make me.”

Alex chuckled, but there was no humor in it. He leaned down, placing his hands on the back of the chair across from her, his gaze locking with hers. “Oh, Anna. You’re not in a position to refuse.”

Her expression hardened, but she didn’t speak, so he continued, his tone deliberately slow and condescending.

“No family dinner? No marriage. No marriage?” He smirked. “No money for you. Isn’t that right? You don’t have any other option, do you?”

Anna’s lips parted in disbelief, but before she could respond, Alex straightened and stepped back.

“You’ll come,” he said, his voice final. “You’ll stay the entire day, play the dutiful wife, and be civil to my family. And then, maybe, you’ll still have a place in this house.”

Without waiting for a reply, Alex turned on his heel and strode toward the door.

“Goodnight, Anna,” he called over his shoulder, his tone clipped. Then he left, the sound of the door closing echoing through the room, leaving Anna alone in stunned silence.

The door clicked shut behind him. Alex leaned back against the wall in the hallway, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His fingers found the amber bottle, his pills. He was trembling. God, he was actually trembling. He twisted the cap, shook two into his palm, dry-swallowed them. Then he pushed off the wall and rushed upstairs to his room.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the dark window, and let his mind drift.

Klara.

The name opened like a wound. He'd loved her so much. Then came the night he'd been set up, gotten drunk enough to slip, to end up with someone else. Victor had only been two years old then, too young to understand why Mommy stopped smiling at Daddy.

When Klara found out, she never let him touch her again. Never. She'd crawl into their bed and turn her back, cold as stone. And when she wanted release, she'd throw him out of the room and use her vibrator, her dildo, right there where he could hear everything through the thin walls.

He'd stand outside all night, listening to her go over and over again, the hum of the device cutting through him like a punishment. A reminder of what he'd destroyed. She made him stand there and take it. Made him hear what he could no longer have.

She never let him touch her until the day she died. Never truly forgave him.

So when he walked in on Anna tonight, saw that device in her hand, heard that hum, he'd been right back there. Twenty-one again. Useless. A failure. The same rage and shame had swallowed him whole, and he'd taken it out on her. Said trash to her face.

For someone so used to living off others, you have an interesting way of showing gratitude. Christ. He'd weaponized her dependency, just like his father would have.

His phone buzzed, snapping him back to reality.

James Hill.

The name flashed on the screen. Alex answered, and James's voice came through

"Alex." A pause. The subtle shift of fabric, the controlled rhythm of Alex’s breathing. "You okay?"

"No." The word scraped out of him. "I was really mean to her, James. I don't know what came over me. I saw her with that thing and I just lost it."

"I thought you said she didn't care," James said carefully.

"She doesn't care. But..." Alex dragged a hand down his face. "I think any human being would care, James. I just said trash to her face, right after I tried to…" He stopped. Couldn't say it.

James went quiet. Cold, almost.

"Why did you call?" Alex asked

"I called to let you know the merger's been finalized. The serene deal. It's done."

"Good." Alex's tone shifted, businesslike now.

“I’m gonna be late tomorrow” James said but there was something else in the background. A soft giggle. A woman's voice, muffled but playful. Baby, come on. I'm getting cold.

James murmured something away from the phone, then "Okay. I'll…bye."

The line went dead.

Someone was keeping James warm tonight. While Alex sat alone in his fortress, haunted by the ghost of a woman who'd died hating him, and the living woman downstairs who probably hated him too.

He lay back on the bed, fully clothed, and waited for the pills to pull him under. They didn't bring peace. They never did. Just a darker shade of alone.