Episode 3

Chapter 3: Irina

I stared at my new husband in surprise. When he told his employee that I would be the queen, I nearly fainted. I was grateful he was keeping me seated on his lap — and even more so when he said I would fill the house with children. How many children does he think I'm going to give him? Why does he assume I'll do it without hesitation? Although, truthfully, I have dreamed of having a baby — but that doesn't mean I would have one with a stranger, even if he is now my husband. And yet, who better than my husband to have a child with?

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice when he wheeled his chair into an elevator. I tried to stand up again, but he held me firmly and kissed me again — so demandingly and passionately that I couldn't refuse to kiss him back. We stayed like that until the elevator reached the second floor and he set his wheelchair in motion once more.

"Take a shower. That's your closet — everything in there is for you. When you come out, we'll eat something," Dmitry said, and I simply nodded.

I nearly fainted when I entered the closet: there was every kind of shoe, jewelry, and perfume, all designer. There must have been millions of dollars' worth of things in that room.

"There's something else in there," he appeared in the doorway and pointed to a curtain.

I crossed through it and loved everything I saw. A mirror section with every type and brand of makeup, creams, and so much more — all the most expensive products on the market. I didn't know where I had left my phone, so I thanked him in sign language, hoping he would understand.

"You want to thank me?" Dmitry asked, and I nodded.

"Here, you'll be a queen. You'll have whatever you want. But your way of thanking me should be giving me a child. Take a shower and get changed — I'll be waiting so we can eat together."

Dmitry left and I stood there thinking. If I could endure two years with my idiot ex who didn't treat me well, I can handle having a child with this very handsome man who also wants to treat me like a queen. On top of that, Dmitry is extremely good-looking — a child of his would be beautiful. But I don't know him. With my head spinning, I chose a sky-blue dress and matching underwear. How did he know my size? And how long had my family been planning all of this with him? There were so many questions I didn't know what to think.

I took a long shower, then put on the lace underwear — it was gorgeous — and the dress. After doing my hair and applying a little makeup, I left the bedroom, and Martha was at the door.

"Ma'am, your husband ordered me to escort you to the dining room," Martha said.

I nodded and followed her. When we reached the table, Dmitry was seated reading the newspaper. As I approached, a man in a suit pulled out my chair so I could sit, then stepped away. I assumed he was a member of the staff.

"You look beautiful. I like how that dress looks on you," Dmitry complimented me, and all I could do was smile.

"I took the liberty of replacing your phone with something better. Here."

He handed me a new phone. I took it right away and typed: "Thank you for everything. It's very nice."

"I'm glad you like it, but you know everything comes at a cost: a child," Dmitry reminded me.

After thinking it over, I typed my response: "I know, but could you not be rough with me when you try to get me pregnant?" I asked, nervous.

"I already told you that whatever you ask for, you'll have. If you want me to be gentle during our intimate moments, I will be. Just ask. By the way, a team of specialists is coming tomorrow to see you. I want to find out if you can speak again," Dmitry said.

I looked at him for a few seconds. Was this man really willing to treat me like a queen just so I would give him a child? Something that wouldn't displease me at all, because I truly want to be a mother. Besides, he was very handsome and wanted to help me speak again — something my father never did.

"Thank you," I said, about the specialists.

"If you're going to thank me for everything I give you, you'll spend your whole life thanking me — because I'll never stop giving you things, in exchange for what you already know," Dmitry replied.

We ate in peace. Everything was delicious. When we finished, he had me sit on his lap again to go upstairs. When we reached the bedroom, there were rose petals on the bed, champagne, and red heart-shaped balloons.

"You asked me to be gentle, and your wishes are my commands, my queen," he said, moving toward the bed, but I still couldn't react.

He set me on the bed, sat beside me, and poured two glasses, which we both drank.

"I'll be very careful. Don't be nervous," he said tenderly.

He began to kiss me, and as he did, my body relaxed. I liked it. With every passing second I lost more of my composure. His kisses were so soft and tender that I lost what little composure I had left and followed his lead. For some reason, sighs began escaping my lips. I couldn't believe that in my daily life I never spoke, and now the only sounds I made were gasps. He laughed with every moan that left my lips. When he entered me, I'll admit it hurt a little, but then I enjoyed it. He was gentle and patient the entire time — he never treated me roughly. On the contrary, he treated me like a queen, and I lost myself in his caresses until we both reached the peak together.

"Your idiot ex doesn't know what he missed, but I'm grateful he never touched you. Now you're mine alone, and no one will ever touch you," Dmitry said, holding me against his chest.

I wanted to reach for my phone, but he stopped me. Instead, he got into his chair, pulled me along with him, and we went into the bathroom, where we climbed into the tub.

"I want to hear you moan again," he whispered in my ear.

Then he made me his once more in the tub. Afterward, we went back to bed and slept in each other's arms. It was a new sensation for me, but being in his arms made me feel safe. I wasn't afraid. For the first time since my mother's murder, I felt safe — and I didn't want that to change. I was afraid he might change his mind and decide he didn't want me, a simple mute, to be his queen.

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