Standing up, not caring to cover his nakedness, he walked over to his jacket.
Pulling out the knife, he saw her panic.
“I’m not going to cut you. Unless you really fuck up and step out on the club, you’re safe, Abriana. I’m many things, but I don’t abuse women, unless they ask me to.”
“Women ask you to hurt them?”
“Some. They like the pain, but again, I’ve got standards when it comes to that kind of thing, and so I like to make my own rules.” He slid the knife between the fabric, being careful not to press the tip right next to her skin.
The buttons dropped to the floor from where he sliced, and he was more than satisfied as it fell to the floor.
“Good.”
He stepped back into the bath, closing his knife and watching.
“You want me to just get naked?” she asked.
“Unless you have any other bright ideas on how to bathe. This room can fit six, probably even more.”
She laughed. “Water would be everywhere.”
“I may exaggerate, but still it’ll fit a lot of people.” He winked at her.
“Could you close your eyes?”
“Will that make you comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Done.”
He closed his eyes long enough to hear the rustling of fabric, and then he opened them. He wasn’t going to have her nervous about being naked in front of him. One look at her body, and he wanted to commit fucking murder.
“Who the fuck did this to you?” he asked.
She held the dress against her. “You said you wouldn’t look.”
“It was your dad, wasn’t it? That’s why he was around you like flies on shit. He wanted to make sure you keep your mouth shut.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking—”
He wrapped his fingers around her neck, silencing the lie that was about to fall from her lips. “I’d be really fucking careful about what you’re about to say to me, Abriana. I’ll take a lot, but you lie to me, and I’ll consider it a bad start to our marriage.”
Tears were in her eyes. Her shaking had gotten worse.
He couldn’t give a fuck. He wanted her to know the kind of man she was dealing with. Wife or not, he would fucking end her if she even tried to put the club in danger or risk it in any way.
He wasn’t joking either, not about this. She had to learn her place.
“Yes.”
“It was your father?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“I’m not good enough, and so I have to be punished.”
“What the fuck?”
Her tears were falling thick and fast now.
“I’m ugly. I’m fat. I’m a waste of air. He doesn’t want me around.”
“Has he touched you in any other way?”
“No.”
“You’re still a virgin in all things?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He gritted his teeth. Slowly, releasing her neck, she took a step back, or at least tried to. He wouldn’t let her.
“No, you don’t walk away. You don’t fucking stop. Get in,” he said.
He let her go and waited as she removed her underwear, exposing her body to him. The bruises across her stomach and back, they were what came from a beating.
Vigo had beaten the shit out of his daughter, and right now, Ugly Beast wanted to show him in kind exactly what he’d done.
****
Climbing into the tub, Abriana had never felt more afraid in her life. This was the first time she’d been naked in front of a man, and it scared her. Really fucking scared her. Ugly Beast looked ready to kill someone, and with how he’d held her neck, she knew it wouldn’t have been hard for him to snap her neck.
This man was just as much of a monster as her father was.
Sitting at the opposite end of the bath, she was thankful the bubbles were high so it covered most of her body.
“Does Garofalo know what you do?”
“No.”
“Of course. Everything you guys do is in fucking secret. You being a woman, well, that doesn’t matter to them either.”
“Does it matter to you?” she asked.
“You’re my wife. No one touches my property. Do you understand me?” He snapped out each word.
She nodded her head, wanting nothing more than to run. To run and to hide.
Still, like so many times, she sat with him, waiting for him to be done. To move on, and to let her be.
This is your wedding night.
He wants something more.
“Come here,” he said.
She lifted up her head, hating that he watched her. If she denied him, he could make her life even more miserable than it already was. Her father had already given her a warning to be everything her husband wanted. To not make waves. To make sure he was well looked after.
She didn’t know what she was doing, so she moved toward him, staying low in the bath.
He grabbed her arm, spinning her around so that her back was to his chest. She let out a little whimper and hated how weak she sounded, even to her own ears.