Damares Reese
I woke up at six-thirty with nobody pounding on the door, no screaming "lazy fatass." Just the soft hum of the portable air conditioner and sunlight streaming through the little balcony. Feeling so much more confident and happy, I smiled before I even opened my eyes.
I had breakfast in peace, put on a dark gray pencil dress that hugged every curve without asking permission, and headed out for my third day as Derek Marville's executive assistant.
Life was, right then, perfectly feeling like a dream.
The day before, Mason had spent eight hours with me at the company, sitting at my new desk, talking like she was handing over the apocalypse survival manual.
"Listen up, Damares, because he's demanding as hell. Coffee, Colombian only from the French press, three level spoonfuls, water at exactly 197 degrees. One degree over and he notices and throws it out. Schedule, never book a meeting before nine-thirty or after six unless it's a war. Phone, if it rings and he's quiet, pick up on the first ring and say 'Mr. Marville's office.' Never 'hello.' The staring, he's gonna look at you like he's fucking you with his eyes. Ignore it. That's just how he is. And above all, never, ever, under any circumstances, ask about the dead wife. He'll snap the neck of anyone who brings it up."
I wrote everything down, half scared, half fascinated. Derek Marville spent the entire day barking orders, but he never raised his voice. It was all in the look, the low tone, the way he rested his pen against his lips when he was thinking about destroying someone. And, God forgive me, I spent the whole day trying not to stare too long at those lips.
On Wednesday, I got home after eight, dead tired and happy. I opened the laptop on the little living room table, still in my heels, and saw the new email.
Sender: Dr. Otavio Lima -- Lima & Associates
Subject: Change of marital status -- urgent
"Dear Mrs. Marville, please send, at your earliest convenience, notarized copies of documents including birth certificate for the purpose of records update and marriage registration. Sincerely..."
I nearly fell out of my chair.
"Mrs. Marville? Why did he change my last name?"
I opened the attachment with trembling hands. The contract I'd signed without reading. Page one, in bold block letters:
MARRIAGE CONTRACT AND PRENUPTIAL AGREEMENT
My world spun. I read clause by clause, the blood draining from my face.
"Clause 7 -- The second party commits to making all reasonable and necessary efforts to conceive a biological child of the first party within a maximum period of six (6) months from the date of signing. Clause 9 -- Divorce may only be requested by the first party. Should the second party attempt to dissolve the union, she shall be obligated to compensate the first party in the amount of $5,000,000 (five million dollars)."
The signature -- mine -- right there, in blue ink. Dated three days ago. I'd married Derek Marville without knowing it.
I stood up so fast I knocked the chair over. Grabbed my purse, called a cab, and gave the company's address before I even thought about it.
I arrived after nine at night. The security guard hesitated, but I flashed my badge and walked straight through. Took the elevator up, my heart exploding in my chest.
His office door was cracked open. Low light. He was there, back turned, pouring cognac for himself. I shoved the door open hard.
"Are you out of your mind?"
He turned slowly, glass in hand, eyebrow arched. In no hurry, he walked to the door and turned the key in the lock. The click echoed like a gunshot to me.
"Good evening, wife."
I took a step forward, furious.
"What you did is a crime! Identity fraud, coercion, God knows what else! I'm going to the police right now!"
He set the glass on the desk, took two long strides, and pressed me against the wall with his whole body. His heat swallowed me. One hand slid up to my neck, his thumb brushing my racing pulse.
"Crazy to fuck you until you forget your own name, wife," he whispered in my ear, his voice so low it made every hair on my body stand on end.
I tried to push his chest away. He didn't budge. My body, that traitor, was already wet. I felt the moisture soaking through my panties.
"Let me go..."
He laughed. A short, cruel, delicious laugh.
"Let go? You signed, sweetheart. Of your own free will. I can show you the security footage if you want. You picked up the pen, smiled nervously, and signed all nice and pretty."
I remembered. He'd said HR was closing in minutes. I was desperate for the job. I signed without reading. Stupid, stupid, stupid... I was so stupid.
"I thought it was an employment contract!"
"And it was a contract, sweetheart. Just not the one you thought."
"Don't call me that. We're not intimate. I'm not yours."
He moved closer, his hips pressing into mine. I felt the hard bulge against my stomach. My God.
"Read the contract again," he continued, his mouth grazing my earlobe. "You're already mine. Legally. Now all that's missing is the heir."
I breathed fast, my breasts rising and falling against his chest.
"I'll scream."
"Scream. The building's empty. And the guard knows who's in charge here."
His hand slid down to my waist, gripping hard. The other came up and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"Six months, Damares. Six months for you to give me a child. After that, if you want, I'll let you go with a million in your account and you'll never have to see me again. But until then--" he squeezed harder, "--you're mine. This body is mine. And I'm gonna use it until I'm done."
I should've been terrified. I should've been crying. But the heat between my legs was so intense it ached.
"You're a monster," I whispered.
"I am," he answered, dangerous smile on his face. "And you just became the monster's wife."
He let go of me suddenly. I took a shaky step to the side. He unlocked the door.
"Tomorrow you move into my house," he said, walking back to his desk like nothing had happened. "A security guard will help you bring your things from your apartment to my penthouse. And, Damares..."
I stopped at the door, hand on the handle.
"Welcome to the Marville family."
I ran out. The elevator went down. The tears didn't come until I hit the street. Married. To Derek Marville. And worst of all... part of me was on fire just imagining what he was going to do to me tomorrow.
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