Chapter 50: I’m not your dog

A few hours into arranging my things, a knock sounds on the door.

I glance toward it.

"Come in."

The door opens, and a girl walks inside.

She looks young, probably around my age. Her hair is pulled neatly behind her shoulders, and she carries something carefully folded in both hands.

For some reason she looks hostile, like she’d much rather punch me right in the throat or probably slit my throat than be here, doing whatever she’s doing here.

Well fuck her.....I don’t want to be here either and I hate you probably more than you hate me. But I’m not eyeing you like I want to take a huge chunk outta you.

So suck it up bitch.

"Good evening," she says politely, despite the look on her face. "The Don asked me to drop this for you."

She holds it out and I cautiously t take it from her.

"Thank you."

She gives me a small nod before turning around and walking out.

I close the door behind her, then I look down at what she brought.

It’s a dress.

And I have to admit, it is beautiful.

The fabric feels expensive, the design elegant, and whoever chose it clearly knows exactly what they’re doing.

I hold it against myself for a moment.

Then I shake my head.

No.

Absolutely not.

I’m not wearing something Lysander picked out for me and it’s not because I’m trying to prove some ridiculous point.

Okay, maybe I am.

But mostly because I refuse to let him think he can dictate every little thing about me simply because we’re married.

I walk over to my closet and pull out the dress I had already planned to wear.

This one is mine.

My choice.

And if Lysander doesn’t like it? He can go cry about it.

I glance at my phone and my eyes widen.

It’s almost eight.

"Shit."

I quickly hurry into the bathroom, i don’t have time to waste.

A few minutes later, I’m sitting in front of the mirror, finishing my makeup.

I keep things simple but polished. Enough to look good but not enough to look like I tried too hard.

I am just finishing up when my bedroom door suddenly opens.

I turn toward it to find it’s Lysander.

My mood immediately drops.

I watch as he strides into the room like he owns the entire place.

Well, technically, according to him, he does.

I glance down at myself. I’m still in my underwear because I haven’t had the chance to put my dress on yet but I refuse to scramble for something to cover myself with just because he walked in.

I’m not giving him that satisfaction.

"You can’t just barge into my room without knocking, Lysander."

He shuts the door behind him.

"It’s my house."

He takes a few steps closer.

"And you’re my wife. All of this belongs to me."

His hand brushes over my arm as he passes, and I immediately shift back in my seat.

"I’d rather die than belong to you, Lysander."

I stand.

"Now what do you want?"

His eyes travel over me briefly before settling back on my face.

That damn smirk appears.

"I’m surprised you aren’t rushing to cover up."

I fold my arms.

"I don’t have anything to hide."

I deliberately hold his gaze.

"I have a beautiful, sexy body."

His eyebrow lifts.

I refuse to look away.

"Again, what do you want? Did you come here to look at me and go jerk off later?"

His expression turns flat.

"I’d sooner cut off my dick than do that."

I almost smile.

"Good."

He shakes his head.

"I’m here to take you down for the dinner I told you about earlier. It’s almost time, and I don’t like to be late."

I glance toward the clock.

He’s right.

Damn it.

"I’m done anyway."

I reach for my dress.

"Help me zip this up."

Lysander watches me for a second. Then his eyes shift toward the dress he had sent upstairs, sitting on the bed.

"I thought I had Lucia bring a dress up for you."

I turn toward him.

"I received it."

"And?"

"And I’m not wearing it."

His jaw tightens.

"Why?"

"Because I don’t want to."

He stares at me and I stare right back.

"I’m not your dog, Lysander. I’ll wear whatever I want to wear."

For a moment, neither of us moves.

Then he crosses the space between us.

Before I can react, he grabs me and pulls me toward him.

My body collides with his and I’m suddenly flush against him

My breath catches as a strange tingling runs through me, and I immediately hate myself for feeling it.

I try to pull back but his hand comes up to my jaw. His grip is firm enough to hurt slightly.

My eyes narrow.

"You should consider being very careful with me, Nerissa."

His voice is low.

"When I give an instruction, you follow it."

I stare straight into his eyes.

"Like I said, I’m not your fucking dog, Lysander."

The pressure against my jaw makes speaking uncomfortable, but I force the words out anyway.

His expression doesn’t change.

"No?"

"No."

I swallow.

"I’m not and I’m not scared of you."

I refuse to let my voice shake.

"I’m not one of your little followers. You need me alive for this peace agreement to work."

For a second, something almost amused flashes across his face.

"You’re right."

His fingers remain against my jaw.

"I need you alive."

My heart beats harder.

"But no one said anything about throwing you in my dungeon and starving you for days."

My eyes widen slightly.

What the hell?

Before I can respond, he releases my chin.

The sudden freedom makes me take a small step backward.

Lysander adjusts his jacket as if nothing happened. Then he walks toward the door.

He opens it, stops and looks back at me.

"Be down in two minutes."

Then he walks out, the door closing behind him.

I stand there staring after him. For several seconds, I don’t move.

Then I slowly touch my jaw, massaging the pain away.

I look toward the dress lying on the bed, then toward the door.

Two minutes?

He really thinks he can order me around like that.

I pick up my dress.

"Let’s see about that."