WEAR THE RING
1170 Words
Natalie's POV
I regain consciousness to voices.
Too many of them.
Calm, urgent voices brushed against my consciousness; I could perceive the thick smell of antiseptic in the air. Something cold pressed against my arm. A monitor system is beeping steadily somewhere near my left ear.
I opened my eyes.
White ceiling.
Too bright.
Then the memories come in fragments.
The gala.
Luciano.
The marriage certificate.
I almost fell from the window while trying to escape.
The bathtub.
Darkness.
The bed was surrounded by doctors—three of them, firm-faced, professional, and tense. One had a stethoscope around his neck. Another adjusted the IV attached to my arm.
Then I saw her.
Mrs. Sarah stood at the edge of the bed, her hands interlocked so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her eyes were watery and filled with panic, like she had been holding her breath for hours.
My throat is dry. Heavy.
My next words slipped out before I could stop them.
“Am I dead?”
For a second, no one replied.
Then a voice spoke—deep, calm, and unmistakably dangerous.
“Recollect,” Sebastian said from above my head. “I am death. So you can't die except if I kill you.”
My pulse spiked.
I slowly turned my head.
He was right there.
Standing at the head of the bed, his arms folded across his broad chest. He wore simple dark sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. His hair was wet, and his gaze remained fixed on me like he had spent hours threatening the universe itself for daring to take me away from him.
His lips curved slightly.
“You are stuck with me forever, wifey.”
I feel a chill slide down my spine.
I swallowed hard.
The doctors shifted uncomfortably. Fidgeting.
One of them cleared his throat twice before speaking.
“She…she needs strict bed rest,” the older doctor said in a shaky voice. “Proper meals. No stress. Emotional or otherwise.”
His eyes flickered to Sebastian.
Filled with fear.
Real, unmasked fear.
Sebastian didn't shake.
"You can all go," he said stiffly.
The room stilled.
“And if my darling wife tries anything again,” he added, his eyes locking onto mine, giving a silent warning, “I'll call you.”
The suggestion sat heavily in the air.
No one spoke.
Mrs. Sarah paused, looking at me sympathetically.
Sebastian turned to her.
“Dinner. To my room,” he ordered. “And also move all her things into my room as well.”
Mrs. Sarah nodded quickly and left with the doctors, who fled the room like they were escaping a lion's den.
The door closed.
Silence filled the room.
My chest tightened.
“You have no right to do this,” I said hoarsely.
“I need my privacy. You can't force or control everything about me.”
He leaned closer.
Too close.
He braced his hands on the mattress on both sides of my body.
Caging me in.
“There is no privacy in marriage,” he said calmly. “And yes, I have every right as your husband. I will not risk taking my eyes off you again.”
Marriage.
That word feels like a prison cage.
Images of my parents' marriage flashed through my mind. My mother's silence. Her obedience to decisions she never wanted. My father's emotional abuse, his mistress, and the complete lack of respect.
Just ownership.
I glared at him.
“I escaped one prison,” I whispered. “I will not walk into another.”
His jaws tightened.
“You are not a prisoner,” he said.
“Then why won’t you let me go?” I shouted back.
“I am not your possession.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“You are my wife.”
Arguing with him was useless.
He straightened himself and tossed something onto the bed.
A white shirt.
His shirt.
“Change into that,” he said. “We're going shopping tomorrow.”
I hesitated.
He leaned closer and whispered.
“Or I can help you change. If you don't mind.”
I turned red as heat rushed to my face.
“You are a pervert,” I lash out, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him.
He caught it easily.
Then I turned toward the window.
“I'll give you space. For now.” He said.
I stared at the shirt before finally pulling it over my head. It smelled like him—clean and masculine. The smell of his cologne filled my nose. As the fabric brushed against my thighs, I suddenly became aware of how exposed my legs were.
He turned back just as Mrs. . Sarah arrived with dinner.
“I will not eat anything from your kitchen,” I muttered. “I have no appetite for your food.”
I pushed the tray aside.
Sebastian exhaled slowly. He looked frustrated.
Tired.
He walked toward the bed.
“You need strength to plan your next escape from me,” he said.
Before I could react, he sat on the bed and pulled me onto his lap.
“Sebastian—”
“Eat,” he said quietly. “Or I'll force-feed you.”
My heart galloped wildly in my chest.
He held me close against him. His arm wrapped firmly around my waist, unyieldingly. I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
Strong.
Heat rose to my face again.
I tried to shift from his lap, but he tightened his hold slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me who was in control.
He leaned closer to my ear.
“Stay still,” he murmured. “Don't flatter yourself.”
Pervert.
I ate.
Every bite.
Because I was starving.
He tucked the strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Good girl.”
His voice dropped low as his eyes locked onto mine.
I froze.
My body betrays me.
I hated that my body reacted to the words leaving his mouth.
Morning came too fast.
I woke up alone.
On the bedside table sat a folded note.
Eat, or else I'll throw your dog out.
I groaned.
“Psychopath.”
Then I noticed the velvet box beside the note.
Black.
Expensive.
I hesitate before opening it.
Inside lay a diamond ring.
Beautiful. Sharp. Bold.
An infinity symbol was carved into it—a deep cut and impossible to ignore. The diamond sat at the center where the loop met, like a seal binding two ends together.
Infinity.
Forever.
No escape.
For a moment, I imagine it around my fingers.
A note beneath it.
Wear it.
I hissed.
“Control freak.”
“How romantic,” I said dryly.
I closed the box and left it exactly where it was.
I swung my legs off the bed and walked toward the bathroom.
The moment I touched the door handle, my phone beeped on the nightstand.
Unknown number.
A text message appeared.
Good morning, wifey.
Wear the ring.
- Writer
