His Or Her Rules
1073 Words
“You’re coming with me!”
Damian snapped, yanking her up the stairs as if she weighed nothing.
Isabella stumbled, her heels sliding against the marble steps. Her chest felt tight with panic and grief. Behind them, Richard’s voice was low and helpless.
“Damian, please. Not like this. Take it easy—I am already your wife.”
Isabella pleaded but he ignored.
The bedroom door slammed behind them with a sound that made Isabella’s stomach twist.
The room was huge and cold, all black, silver, and glass. It didn’t feel like a bedroom. It felt like a cage with a view.
Damian finally released her wrist, only to turn and lock the door. The click sounded louder than her own heartbeat.
“Don’t, please, not like this. We can have s*x, but not like this, please.”
Isabella begged, backing up until her legs hit the bed. She lost her balance and fell onto it without meaning to.
Damian said nothing. He unbuttoned his shirt, moving toward her slowly. Isabella crawled back onto the bed, eyes steady as she kept putting distance between them.
“Damian, don’t do this.”
He turned to her, peeling his shirt off and tugging his belt loose in one slow motion. His muscles flexed, and he began to harden.
His gaze stayed fixed on her.
“I don’t like being ignored, Bella. I don’t like being defied. You made vows today. And you have to—”
“Vows I was forced to make! All of you forced me to make those vows, I want to go home!”
She sobbed, but he broke into a cruel laugh.
“What exactly do you want to go home to? Your family that hates you?”
His words hit harder than she expected, and her mother’s face flashed in her mind.
“At least I’ll be free from you!”
She snapped back, but he didn’t react.
He stepped closer, leaning in until his lips brushed her ear.
“You will be useless wherever you go. Nobody needs you so sit still and let me do what you were brought in here for.”
Tears blurred her vision. She put her hands up like a shield, but before she understood what was happening, he had pulled her down onto the bed, flipped her over, and was already unzipping her wedding dress.
“No, no please. This is r**e!”
She whispered as he yanked the gown off her, but he only laughed.
“Not when you’re my wife, my love.”
Seconds later, she was down to her underwear.
As his hands reached for her, she cried, “I’ve never done this before, please.”
He stopped.
“Liar,” he said quietly.
He reached for her again. This time Isabella didn’t wait. She shoved him back with both hands, hard. He stumbled a step, startled, and his face went cold.
She shouted, “I’m not lying! Leave me alone!”
“Fine,” he said. “Fight me.”
He grabbed her shoulders and pinned her against the bedpost. Isabella thrashed, but he was stronger, trapping her body with his.
“Damian, stop!” she cried. “Stop, it hurts so much, please.”
“You’re mine now!” he snapped. “And I don’t wait. I don’t beg.”
Isabella went still.
Her breathing came in ragged gasps. His face was inches from hers, his eyes roaming over her as he forced himself into her. Her fingers clutched the sheets, hot tears running down her face.
She wanted to scream, but nothing came out. She couldn’t even move.
This was her reality now and all she could do was to stay still whiles he hurt her.
The penthouse stayed heavy for hours after what had just happened.
When she opened her eyes, her cheek was pressed to the cold marble. Her shoulder screamed from where it had hit the floor. Her gown was gone and part of her under garments was torn. She looked practically naked.
She tried getting up, but the pain that washed over her was enough to keep her down.
She wrapped her arms around her like that could stop her body from being revealed.
A sharp ring cut through the silence and she flinched.
Isabella’s eyes snapped open. Damian’s phone was vibrating on the glass table, the screen lit up with Unknown.
Before she could speak he walked out of the washroom picked it up on the second ring, his voice flat. “Speak.”
She looked at him, really liked at him this time. He was clean. His shoulders broad, his muscles fighting for their lives under his sleeves and his face, it looked like he could pass for one of those hot men in love island.
She immediately snapped back to reality, and placed her head back on the ground. Her eyes shut but moving.
On the other end, a man’s voice came through, low and muffled.
“We found her. Out by the old docks. Been there a week. Water did a number on her, but it’s her.”
Damian didn’t move.
Then his mouth curved.
Not a full smile. Something colder.
“Good,” he said. “Bring the body to Blackwood Tower. Service entrance. No one sees it.”
Isabella’s stomach dropped.
“What was that about?” She thought.
Damian ended the call and set the phone down like it was nothing. He turned, and his eyes landed on her. She closed hers fast, but not fast enough.
“Good. Youre awake,” he said.
Isabella didn’t answer.
He moved closer and crouched in front of her, his shadow falling over her like she was a kid cornered in the dark.
His fingers brushed her hair back, the gesture soft but his grip anything but.
“Get up. Get dressed. Be down in thirty,” he said. “I have a gift for you.”
“I don’t want it.”
Her voice cracked.
Damian grabbed her arm and yanked her upright. Her strapped slipped, and she scrambled to pull it back into place, face burning from shame.
“Unfortunately, my lovely wife, you don’t get to want or not want anymore. You only get to obey.”
“Get dressed and get down. I won’t say it twice.”
He let go, turned to pick up his phone, and walked out without looking back.
- Writer
