Married to a Narcissist Billionaire

Chapter 2

Emily’s pov

I lay there, completely motionless, like a piece of wood. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d find myself in this situation with Mark, He finally finished with me, starting to uncuff my hands. Slowly, he peeled off the blindfold and the gag from my mouth. His voice was sharp, laced with anger.

"I’ve been too calm with you, and you’ve mistaken that for stupidity." He glared at me, his rage palpable.

"You’re my wife, my property. The sooner you accept that, the better." Tears welled up in my eyes.

“Is that all I am to you? Just property?” I struggled to get the words out. "I'm not your s*x toy, Mark! I’m your wife... Why are you doing this to me?"

Mark’s expression turned cold, "From now on, you’re my s*x toy, You refuse to behave, so I’ll teach you how to behave" His words cut deep.

"After I’ve worn you out for a whole week, let’s see if you still can’t behave, You’ve done nothing but lounge around. You don’t give me peace, you don’t give me a child... You’re just taking up space, " His cruel words stung like a slap.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. "I want a divorce, I can’t keep living in this prison," I said, my voice trembling.

Mark let out a bitter laugh, mocking me. "A divorce? Don’t make me laugh. Emily, you were just a package your father handed over to settle his debts. No matter what I do to you, you’ll never be able to repay that debt."

He yanked my hair, pulling my head back, making me wince. “Now, hand over your phone and laptop.”

I hesitated, but before I could protest, he snatched them from me, “You’ll never use these again. They’re mine now,” he said coldly.

I sat there, feeling numb. He was right. I had lost control over everything, "You were supposed to fix your hair, Why is it still a mess?" His voice was harsh.

“The stylist said she was busy, but she’ll fix it tomorrow morning,” I replied, barely keeping it together.

Mark glared at me, his anger flaring even more, "Don’t make me remind you again."

That night, I was in disbelief over everything that had just unfolded. I lay there, wide awake, feeling the weight of Mark’s words pressing down on me, I always knew he had a cold side, but now... now I was genuinely scared of him. I couldn’t shake the fear of what he might do next.

The hours dragged on, my eyelids heavy with fatigue, yet sleep eluded me. I turned to face the wall, Mark’s loud snoring echoing in my ear.

How did I end up in this situation? How long could I keep living like this?

************

Morning arrived with a loud knock at the door, and I hurried downstairs, desperate for a distraction.

"Good morning, ma’am," Rose greeted me with a bright smile as she walked in with her hair supplies.

"Good morning," I replied, forcing a smile, "Please, have a seat. I’ll get myself ready for you to start."

As I whipped up breakfast, Mark sat there in silence, as he always did, not uttering a single word to me.

Once he finished, he shot me a glance, his tone sharp. “Be ready before I get back. I’m sending someone with your dress,” he commanded, then slammed the door behind him.

Finally, after getting my hair done and with everyone gone, I rushed to my room, relieved to have a moment alone. I opened my private safe and pulled out my second phone, the one Mark didn’t know about.

I had kept this phone for a long time, just in case things went south and Mark discovered my blog.

I logged into my account, transferring all my login details to this device. At least if things took a turn for the worse, I’d have a way to reach out to those who cared about me.

As soon as I logged in, messages poured in. People had noticed Mark’s return, which was why I had abruptly ended my live stream. But I couldn’t respond just yet, not while Mark was still a threat.

By the time 2 p.m. rolled around, I was preparing for Mark’s return when I heard the doorbell ring.

"Good day, ma’am. This is for you. Please sign here."

The delivery guy handed me the package, and I signed for it before tearing it open. Mark had a good eye for things, the red dress fit me like a glove, hugging my body just right, the dress had a slit that ran up my thigh, revealing just enough to catch the eye. As I finished getting ready, I knew Mark would be back any minute. There was no way I could skip the party now.

"Are you ready?" His voice was icy, and his gaze was sharp as he looked me over.

"I don’t want to go," I mumbled, feeling a wave of nausea wash over me. "I’m so tired."

“Don’t test my patience, Emily,” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Get your makeup on and cover those marks. You’ve got five minutes.”

I didn’t push back. Before I knew it, I was downstairs in the red dress. I felt like a bride, and his eyes lit up when he saw me, but that smile? It was anything but warm.

At Jason’s birthday party, everyone brought their wives, and Mark had me stand by his side, playing the part of the perfect couple. He smiled at his friends, but it was all a facade. I forced a smile back, knowing I had to keep up appearances.

Parties were never really my scene. There I was, sitting alone on the sidelines while Mark sipped his wine, leaving me to just observe.

“Stay put. Don’t go anywhere,” he had ordered, his voice as cold as ice.

So I sat there, feeling like a ghost while I watched couples enjoying themselves. Laughter and chatter filled the room, but I felt completely invisible.

Meanwhile, Mark was off in a corner, chatting up a girl. His flirtations were blatant, and I pretended not to notice, keeping my gaze down. If I even dared to talk to another man, he would’ve blown up in a fit of rage. But there he was, lost in his own little world.

Then, just like that, Mark vanished. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, even if just for a moment.

Desperate for a break from the suffocating tension, I decided to find the restroom. I’d been holding it in for far too long.

“Excuse me,” I asked a waitress, trying to keep my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.

“Where’s the restroom?”

She smiled and pointed gently. “The first door on your right.”

I thanked her and headed for the door, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I escaped the party's chaos. But when I swung it open, my stomach dropped, there was Mark, right there with the same girl he’d been flirting with earlier. He had her bent over, his hands tangled in her hair, pressing into her. His pants were down, and she was in nothing but her underwear.

The moment Mark spotted me, his eyes locked onto mine, and there was no hint of remorse or shame in his gaze, his voice was sharp and filled with anger.

“What are you doing here?”

I was at a loss for words, the humiliation hit me hard, and I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. Without saying a word, I slammed the door shut, my hands shaking and my heart racing. How could he bring me to this party just to humiliate me like this?

Just as I turned to leave, I heard him call out behind me. “Emily! Emily!” His tone was low and laced with fury.

I kept walking, refusing to look back, but his footsteps echoed behind me, growing louder with each step, suddenly, my ankle twisted, and my heel snapped.

“Ouch!” I yelped, cradling my foot.

Mark crouched down beside me, his face twisted in anger.

“You always ruin things for me,” he spat, yanking me to my feet.

“Get up and go to the car. Wait for me there.”

I limped to the car, dread weighing heavily in my chest. Mark didn’t utter a word as we drove home, and the silence between us felt suffocating.

When we got home, I briefly wondered if he would punish me again tonight, given how furious he was. But he didn’t say a thing, he just went straight to bed.

***********

“I’ll be away for a week,” Mark announced nonchalantly.

“A week?” I blinked, taken aback. “You never mentioned you were leaving.”

He shrugged, his tone dismissive. “Well, I just did. What difference does it make?”

Frustration bubbled up inside me, but I tried to keep my voice calm. “Where are you going?”

His eyes narrowed, and a sneer crept onto his lips. “That’s none of your business. Where I go and when I come

The words tumbled out before I could catch them, a blend of anger and hurt. “So, you want to go be with her, huh? To finish what you started?”

Mark’s eyes sparked with intensity, his expression darkening,

“Watch your mouth, woman,” he growled, stepping closer. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you.”

“Can’t you at least give me my phone? So I can call you?” I asked, feeling a mix of desperation and frustration.

“No calls. Stay here. If I need you, I’ll send my PA,” he replied, holding his bag.

I watched him drive away through the window, a wave of relief washing over me. Finally, I was alone. I hurried to grab my phone, grateful that Mark was gone. I had messages waiting for me.

As I scrolled through, a message from someone named Adam caught my eye.

"Hey there, I saw your story, and I just wanted to reach out. I know this might come out of the blue, but I can’t stop thinking about you and what you’re going through. You deserve so much more than this pain. We might not know each other well, but if you ever need someone to really listen or help you through this, I’d love to be that person. No pressure, just someone who genuinely cares. Take care of yourself, and remember, you’re worth more than you think."