Episode 2

Chapter 2: Irina

After signing, my father took me back to my room and locked me in. He said my new husband would come for me in the morning. Locked in there, I cried the way I had on my wedding night, but this time the pain was even deeper. My sister was going to have my ex-husband's child, and I had just signed a marriage certificate with a complete stranger. I didn't know what would be worse: staying in that house, going back to Steve, or living with the unknown man I had married.

The bedroom door opened and Carmen walked in — my stepmother and Ines's mother — wearing a big smile. It was obvious that my misery made her happy.

"Did you think you'd be happy, you stupid mute? Because of your whore of a mother, my daughter was born a bastard, while you — the stupid mute — got to be the princess of high society. Now you're going to live with a paralyzed old man with no feelings. I'm sure he'll make you scream — but from pain." Carmen slapped me twice and shoved me to the floor before leaving.

I kept crying, this time on the cold floor of my room, until I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, it was still dark. I hadn't even had dinner and I was hungry, but there was no point making noise at that hour. I knew no one would come, just like when I was a little girl and Carmen would lock me up or punish me without anyone — not even my father — coming to help.

At dawn, the door opened. I thought they would at least give me breakfast, but instead, they took me to a man waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"This is your husband's driver. You're not my problem anymore," my father said, and a few tears escaped my eyes.

The driver opened the door of a mysterious SUV. Even though I wanted to run, I couldn't. There were several men and other SUVs all around. I climbed into the vehicle, wiping away my tears. The windows had black curtains, so it was dark inside. I could make out the figure of a man and hear his breathing. I was very nervous and afraid. Was it true that they had married me off to a paralyzed old man?

"Why were you crying?" asked a cold, deep voice that made me shudder.

I turned toward the figure, who was seated some distance from me. The SUV had been modified: it only had two seats and a large open space — for a wheelchair, I assumed.

"Why won't you answer me?" he asked in a louder tone, which frightened me.

With trembling hands, I picked up my phone, typed a response, and the robotic voice read it aloud: "I'm mute. I thought they told you."

The man burst out laughing. His laugh, though somewhat cold, was pleasant — genuine.

"What are you laughing at?" I typed for the robotic voice to read again.

"At us. Now this really does seem like a joke: the mute and the paralyzed CEO. But it doesn't matter — you'll still be my wife, and you'll give me a child. My plans haven't changed," he said, stopping his laughter, and my body trembled.

This man I didn't even know intended to do what Steve hadn't done in two years of marriage? This man whose voice was all I'd heard wanted to be intimate with me and get me pregnant? But wasn't he disabled?

"It works just fine," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "I can feel my legs and move them a little, but I can't walk. Don't worry — I'll make you enjoy it. I know you were married before; I don't care. We'll run some tests before our wedding night. I don't know what diseases your ex-husband might have given you."

"My ex never touched me that way," I typed on my phone, and the robotic voice spoke.

Suddenly, the light inside the SUV turned on, and I could see the man. He wheeled his chair until he was very close to me — so close that I leaned back to get away.

My stepmother had been wrong about only one thing: he wasn't old. He must have been around thirty. His eyes were emerald green, and even seated in his chair, he must have been close to six-foot-six. He was a very handsome man — his face looked as if it had been sculpted by the gods — but he showed no emotion whatsoever. His gaze was frightening, and he had a dark aura about him.

"Why didn't he touch you? You have a lovely body, your face is beautiful, and those lips of yours..." he said, with one hand on my waist and the other on the back of my neck.

He pulled my face to his and kissed me so demandingly that I couldn't respond or move. At some point he drew me toward him and sat me on his lap, continuing to kiss me and caress my body. I felt strange. No one had ever touched me like this, and a small sound even escaped my lips. He released me and smiled.

"I'll find the best help for you. You'll speak again," he said.

The SUV door opened. Apparently, we had arrived a while ago. I was about to climb off his lap, but he stopped me with one hand. Since his wheelchair was motorized, he used the other hand to operate the control and drove us outside along a ramp that slid out when he pressed a button.

We got out, and I couldn't believe how enormous the mansion was. It was about three times bigger than my father's house and Steve's family home combined.

When we went inside, I tried to get down again, but he wouldn't let me. He held my waist firmly. I turned to look at his face, but it betrayed nothing.

"Martha," he called, and a woman who looked to be in her forties or fifties appeared.

"Yes, sir, how can I help you?" Martha asked.

"This is the queen of this house — my wife. Whatever she asks for, she gets, no questions asked. She will fill this mansion with children, so help her with everything. She can't speak right now, so if anyone intimidates her, I want you to tell me, and I'll make them pay," the man said.

"As you wish, Master Dmitry," Martha replied.

And that was how I learned my husband's name.

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