The days leading up to her period filled Isabella Roscente with deep anxiety.
She feared her cycle would be late.
She feared she was actually pregnant with that monster's child.
She always cleaned herself thoroughly after each encounter, but couldn't be certain it was enough each time.
When her period arrived on schedule, a massive wave of relief would wash over her.
First, it meant she wasn't pregnant.
Second, for the week of her period, she wouldn't have to sleep with Alexander Sullivan.
She would be spared his torment.
But sometimes, even during her period, he wouldn't let her be.
Once, he came home late at night.
Finding her asleep, he slipped into bed and held her from behind.
His hand traveled down, feeling the sanitary napkin inside her panties.
He withdrew his hand, held her close, and sighed into the crook of her neck.
"Your cycle is annoyingly precise. Couldn't it be a day or two late? I missed you terribly while I was away on business. I rushed back just for you."
Isabella had no intention of responding and continued feigning sleep.
The man chuckled softly.
He turned her onto her back and began kissing her.
He pried her lips apart, his tongue forcefully invading her mouth.
Isabella couldn't bear it and pushed him away.
"I have my period!" she shouted.
Alexander was shoved aside, looking somewhat disheveled, but he wasn't angry at all.
He smiled. "Not pretending anymore?"
Isabella gave him a cold look, pulled the covers over herself, turned away, and tried to go back to sleep.
The man moved closer again, inhaling the scent of her hair, planting soft kisses on her neck.
Isabella endured it for a while, but finally couldn't take it anymore.
With her back to him, she said, "You could find another woman."
The man behind her froze.
Cold. She could feel the icy aura radiating from him without even turning around.
He turned her onto her back again, forcing her to face him.
In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, she faced a cold,gloomy face.
Then, he laughed in anger.
"Isabella, don't you know? You're the only one I can get hard for now. The only one I want to fuck. Every time you resist and squirm, the moment my cock pushes inside you for a while, you get into it. I love seeing you unable to resist me."
He got up, pulled her up, pulled down his pants, positioned her in front of him, gripped her jaw to force her mouth open, and shoved his hard erection into her mouth.
The thick, long penis, heavy with male hormones, filled her entire mouth.
Without the slightest pause or mercy, he began thrusting.
The enormous, egg-sized head slammed violently against her fragile throat.
Even her gag reflex was overwhelmed, rendered insignificant by the invading flesh.
"Mmph…" Her gasps for air were faint.
The torture only ended after what felt like an eternity.
He released a large amount of semen into her mouth.
Most of the pungent fluid went straight down her esophagus into her stomach.
The rest coated the inside of her mouth.
The moment his cock withdrew, she didn't even make it to the bathroom.
She leaned over the side of the bed and vomited.
It was utterly disgusting.
Why did she have to suffer like this? Why was fate tormenting her so?
The man, having spent his rage, watched her with indifference.
A faint, mocking smile played on his lips.
"Why would I go find someone else when I have a woman at home to use?"
She vomited up the semen mixed with stomach acid.
The floor was left dirty and foul-smelling.
The vomiting brought forth involuntary tears and runny nose.
Ignoring him, Isabella wiped her face roughly with her hand and walked straight to the bathroom.
She locked the bathroom door.
Sitting on the closed toilet lid, she wept silently until dawn.
Learning from that bitter lesson, Isabella understood that provoking Alexander Sullivan brought her no benefits.
She told herself to endure.
To remain obedient for now and wait for the right opportunity.
Like now.
Alexander saw her anxiety because her period was late.
She ate little, suffered insomnia, and frequently checked the bathroom.
He said, "Are you really that unwilling to have my child?"
Isabella desperately wanted to say, Yes, unwilling. Who would want to bear the child of their enemy?! What right do you have to ask me for a child?!
But she said nothing.
She simply lowered her head and continued eating breakfast.
She had made the breakfast herself.
There were no live-in servants in the house. Meals were her responsibility.
On days he worked, he handled his own breakfast.
But if he was home resting, he would make her get up and cook for him.
In the beginning, she refused to cook, even for herself, let alone for him.
But he knew how to use Jacob against her.
He said if she skipped a few meals, he would make Jacob skip a few meals too.
Now, she automatically cooked for him.
Habit was a terrifying thing.
No, she hadn't gotten used to him.
She had merely gotten used to submission.
"Isabella, you know," the man across the table said, "the time you've been by my side has been the happiest period of my life."
Isabella didn't respond.
The man didn't seem to mind.
He smiled. "You probably can't imagine the path I've walked to get here."
Isabella glanced up at him.
She truly didn't know him, nor did she want to.
She only knew he was very wealthy, possibly a figure with connections in both legal and illegal worlds.
He might have been handsome once, but a long, diagonal scar above his left eyebrow, usually hidden by his falling bangs, was terrifying when revealed.
His eyes were typically cold and sinister, as if everyone else were ants beneath his notice—insignificant and easily crushed.
Isabella had no interest in his past.
But the darker his past was, the more likely it was that he had killed Daniel Grant.
"Have you ever killed anyone?" she asked, looking directly at him.
He paused, his gaze turning playful and probing.
"What are you trying to find out?"
She lowered her head again.
"I just want to know if I'm sharing a meal with a murderer."
Alexander watched her for a moment.
He didn't answer her question.
"Just know this," he said. "As long as you stay obediently by my side, you and Jacob will remain safe and sound."
Isabella lowered her head, blinking.
She said nothing more.
Under the table, out of his sight, Isabella's hands resting on her lap clenched into tight fists.