IRINA

When I was almost three years old, I witnessed my mother's death right in front of me. She hid me when some men entered our house in Russia, concealing me under the bed. She told me not to speak or make any noise, and I took it very seriously because from that moment on, I stopped talking. I never uttered a word again. So, when I turned 18, my father arranged a marriage with Steve Ivanov. He had grown up by my side, and to seal a million-dollar contract, my father forced me to marry him.

I thought marrying him wouldn't be so bad since we had grown up together and were always friends. He tried to understand me, unlike everyone else. But on our wedding day, I noticed a difference in him. He hadn't come to my house or seen me since our engagement was announced. Finally, I saw him at the civil ceremony, the only one we had, with our closest family and friends.

On our wedding night, I discovered why he was so angry. His parents had forced him, just as my father had forced me.

"Do you really think I want to spend my life with a mute like you? If it weren't for the risk to my family's business, I would have never married you!" he shouted at me in our new home. I tried to communicate through sign language, which he usually made an effort to understand, but this time, he showed no interest.

"I don't want to see your stupid signs. If you weren't mute, your father would have lent that money to my family without hesitation. But he made it a condition to marry off his mute daughter, as even your own father doesn't want you. That's why he married off his older daughter, Ines, instead of his firstborn," Steve spat at me.

Tears began to fall, and I couldn't deny that my father only cared for Ines, his eldest daughter from his affair. He had been unfaithful to my mother long before he married her, and I believe he only married her for the sake of her grandfather's money. A few years after their wedding, my grandfather lost almost all his fortune, and my father had to work hard to attain what he has now. When my mother died, he brought his mistress and their older daughter into the house, and I became the mute bastard nobody wanted to acknowledge.

"Don't expect me to sleep in the same room as you," Steve concluded before storming off, leaving me alone in what was supposed to be our wedding night's room.

I cried all night until I fell asleep. I was alone at home most of the time, so I studied two online degrees: Business Administration and Graphic Design. Since I got married, I had been alone in that house, with only my computer and myself, and all I did was study. Aside from these degrees, I also studied several languages, hoping that one day, despite my inability to speak, I would be able to communicate.

Steve would return home drunk on some weekends and insult me. On a few occasions, he even slapped me. So, whenever I heard him coming, I would lock myself in the room until he left the next morning. This went on for two years, during which I obtained my college degrees. I was happy but still alone.

I went to the cemetery and brought flowers to my mother's grave. Since it was Friday, most people left work early. As I walked through the park on my way home, I saw many children running in the park with their dads. I wondered if I would ever become a mother myself. If I continued as I was, I doubted it. When I arrived home, I saw Steve's car parked in front. Taking a deep breath, I hoped he wasn't drinking and wouldn't insult or hit me. There were also two men at the door, which seemed odd. But Steve's family had become very powerful in these past two years, and sometimes when he came home drunk, his bodyguards would bring him home. So, I didn't worry and nodded at the men before entering. I heard noises upstairs, so I went up and froze when I saw Steve having sex with Ines, my sister, in the room where I sleep.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. Tears streamed down my face until Ines noticed my presence.

"Little sister, you're back," he spoke brazenly while covering himself with my sheets.

"So you're here, take this," Steve wrapped a battle around his body and threw some documents at me.

I took them in my trembling hands and read a divorce agreement. Steve handed me a pen to sign immediately.

"Ines is expecting my child, and I won't allow my heir to be a bastard because of being married to you. So sign it, I have to organize a grand wedding," Steve said.

"Oh, and get your stuff out of here. You and I are nothing now, so you can go back to your father. This house now belongs to Ines and my son," Steve continued speaking as my supposed sister smiled satisfactorily.

With a lump in my throat, I signed the papers. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out of my mouth. I opened the closet, grabbed my clothes, packed them into a small suitcase, and left that place more broken than when I left my father's house.

I hailed a taxi and used my phone to indicate where to take me. I had no money or personal account because when I lived with my father, he took care of my expenses, and when I married Steve, his personal assistant paid all my bills. Now I only had one place to go, my father's house. When I arrived, I paid the taxi fare and as soon as I entered, I found my father and stepmother waiting for me, looking upset. There were two other men with them.

"Finally, you're here. Sit down and sign," my father Igor forced me to sit at the table in front of some papers. I read what they said and immediately denied. It was a new marriage certificate, but I just signed the divorce papers.

"Don't resist, sign this. It's your fault. Your sister had to sacrifice herself to save the family because you are so useless that you couldn't give a child to Steve in two years. Now sign, because I'm not going to support you anymore, and this way I'll recover the money I lost because of your uselessness." My father yanked my hair, and tears streamed down my face incessantly.

I didn't have children because I didn't want to. Steve never slept in the same room as me. He expected me to force him, plead, and offer myself to him when he returned home. Unable to resist any longer, I gripped the pen tightly and signed my way into my new prison. Wherever I go, if this new husband is like Steve, it will be a confinement.

IRINA

After signing, my father took me to what would be my room and locked me in there. He said my new husband would come for me early tomorrow. Locked in that room, I cried like on my wedding night, but this time it hurt even more. My sister is pregnant with the man who was my husband less than an hour ago, and now I've signed the marriage certificate with a perfect stranger whom I will live with in the morning. I don't know what could be worse: being in this house with Steve or with the stranger I just married.

The door to my room opens, and Carmen, my stepmother and Ines's mother, enters with a big smile on her face. It's evident that my misfortune brings her great joy.

"Did you think you would be happy, stupid mute? Because of your mother's vile actions, my daughter was born a bastard, while you, stupid mute, were born like a princess of high society. Now you will live with an old paralyzed man who has no emotions. Surely he will make you scream, but with pain," Carmen spits out angrily and slaps me before she leaves.

I continued crying, but this time on the cold floor of my room until I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, it was still early morning. I hadn't even had dinner, and hunger gnawed at me. There was no point in making noise at this hour because I knew no one would come. Just like when I was a child and Carmen would lock me up and punish me, no one helped me, not even my father.

When dawn broke, the door opened. I thought they would at least give me breakfast, but instead, they took me to a man waiting at the bottom of the outside stairs.

"This is your husband's chauffeur. Now you are no longer my problem," Carmen says, and a few tears escape from my eyes. The chauffeur opens the door to the mysterious van, and although I wanted to run, I couldn't. There were several men and other vans.

I entered the van while wiping away my tears. The van's windows had black curtains, so it was dark inside, but I could see the silhouette of a mysterious man and hear his breathing. I was very nervous and scared. Could it be true that I was married to an old paralyzed man?

"Why were you crying?" a cold, deep voice interrogates me, making me tremble. I turn to look at the man sitting there, far away from me. The van had been modified and only had two seats and a large space, I suppose for his wheelchair.

"Why don't you answer?" he asks in a louder tone, which frightens me. Trembling, I take my cellphone and write a message for the robotic voice to read.

"I am mute. I thought they had told you," I reply with my cellphone.

"Hahaha," he laughs, and although it's somewhat cold, it sounds beautiful, or maybe it is just sincere.

"What are you laughing about?" I write so that the robotic voice on my phone reads it again.

"I'm laughing at us. Now, this seems like a joke. The mute woman and the paralyzed CEO. Hahaha. But that doesn't matter. You will still be my wife, and you will give me a child. My plans remain the same," he stops laughing, and I feel my body shiver.

This man I don't know intends to do what Steven didn't do in our two years of marriage. This man, whose voice I've only heard, wants to be intimate with me and impregnate me. But is he truly disabled?

"It works very well," he expresses as if he's reading my thoughts.

"I feel my legs, and I can move them a bit, but I can't walk. So don't worry; I will make you enjoy. I know you were married before. I don't care. We will perform tests before our wedding night. I don't know what disease your husband might have infected you with," he explains.

"My ex never touched me in that way," I write on my cellphone, and the robotic voice echoes. Suddenly, the light inside the van turns on, and I see that man move his wheelchair closer to me, so close that I recoil, trying to distance myself from him.

My stepmother was right about one thing, he is in a wheelchair, but he's not old. He must be around thirty years old. His eyes are emerald green, and even in the wheelchair, he must be close to six feet tall. He is a very handsome man, and his face seems crafted by the gods themselves. Although he shows no emotion, his gaze is daunting, and he exudes a dark aura.

"Why didn't you pick her? You have a beautiful body, and your face is stunning, not to mention your lips," he says, placing one hand on my waist and the other on my neck.

He brings my face close to his and kisses me in such a demanding way that I couldn't respond, let alone move. I don't know when he pulled me towards him and sat me on his lap while continuing to kiss me and caress my body. I felt strange; no one had ever touched me like this before, and even a small sound escaped my lips, causing him to let go and smile.

"I will find the best help for you, you will speak again," he said, and the car door opened, apparently we had arrived a while ago.

I was about to get off his lap, but he stopped me with one hand, and using the controls on his wheelchair, he moved us outside with a ramp that slid out as he pressed a button.

We got out, and I couldn't believe how huge that mansion was. It was three times bigger than my father's house and Steve's family's house combined.

As we entered the mansion, I tried to get off again, but he prevented me. He firmly held my waist and turned to look at his face, but he showed no emotion.

"Martha," he called, and a woman in her forties or fifties appeared before us.

"Yes, sir, how can I assist you?" said Mrs. Martha.

"She is the queen of this house, my wife. Whatever she asks for, she shall have without a problem. She will fill this mansion with children, so help her in everything. For now, she can't speak, so if anyone intimidates her, I want you to tell me, and I will make them pay," he spoke, addressing Mrs. Martha.

"As you command, Dmitry," the woman replied, revealing my husband's name to me.

IRINA

I watched my now husband in surprise when he told his employee that I would be the queen; I almost fainted. I was grateful to be sitting on his lap, and even more so when he said that I would fill the house with children. How many children does he think I will give him? And why does he assume I will do it without hesitation? Although I have dreamt of having a baby, I won't have one with a stranger, even if he is now my husband. Who better than my husband to have a child with? I'm so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize when he moved his wheelchair towards an elevator. I tried to stand up again, but he held me firmly and kissed me in a demanding and passionate way. I couldn't refuse to reciprocate. That's how we were until the elevator reached the second floor, and he started moving his wheelchair again.

"Take a shower, your dressing room is there, everything you need is inside. We'll eat something when you're done," Dmitry spoke, and I simply nodded. I almost fainted when I entered the dressing room. There were all sorts of shoes and jewelry, as well as perfumes. Everything was branded. There must be millions of dollars' worth in this dressing room, I couldn't believe it.

"Is there anything else in this place?" Dmitry appeared at the door and gestured towards a curtain which I crossed, delighted by what I saw.

There was a section of mirrors with every type and brand of makeup imaginable. There were creams and many other things, all of them very expensive in the market. I don't know where I left my phone, but I thanked him using sign language, hoping he understood.

"Do you want to thank me?" Dmitry and I nodded.

"Here, you'll be a queen. You'll have everything you want, but your way of thanking me should be by giving me a child. Take a shower and change, I'll wait for you to have dinner together," Dmitry left, and I stood there, pensive. If I could endure two years with my idiot ex who treated me badly, I can endure having a child with this handsome man who wants to treat me like a queen. Besides, Dmitry is extremely good-looking and not ugly at all. A child of his would be very handsome. But I don't know him. With my mind in turmoil, I chose a sky-blue dress and matching underwear. How did he know my size and how long has my family been planning this with him? There are so many doubts that I don't even know what to think anymore. I took a long shower, put on my beautiful lace underwear and the dress, and after doing my hair and minimal makeup, I left the room. Martha was waiting at the door.

"Ma'am, your husband asked me to escort you to the dining room," Martha said, and I nodded, following her. When we reached the table, Dmitry was sitting there reading the newspaper.

A man dressed in a suit approached and adjusted the chair for me before leaving; I assume he must be his employee.

"You look beautiful. I like how the dress suits you," Dmitry complimented me, and I could only smile.

"I took the liberty of changing your phone to something better. Here," he handed me a new phone, and I immediately took it and wrote on it.

"Thank you for everything, it's very nice," I thanked him.

"I'm glad you like it, but you know that everything comes at a price: a child," Dmitry reminded me, and after thinking for a moment, I wrote my response.

"I know, but could you not be forceful with me when we try to conceive?" I spoke nervously.

"I already told you, you'll have everything you ask for. If you want tenderness in our intimacy, I'll give it to you. Just ask for it. By the way, a group of specialists will come tomorrow to see you. I want to know if you can speak again," Dmitry said.

I looked at him for a few seconds, and this man is really willing to treat me like a queen just so I will give him a child, something I wouldn't mind since I truly desire to be a mother, and he is as attractive as can be. He also wants to help me regain my ability to speak, something my father never did.

"Thank you," I said, expressing my gratitude for the specialists.

"If you're going to thank me every time I give you something, you'll be constantly thanking me because I won't stop giving you everything in exchange for what you already know," Dmitry concluded.

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

"You asked me to be gentle, and your wishes are my commands, my queen," he said. He approached the bed, but I still didn't react. He left me on the bed and then joined me, pouring two glasses of champagne which we both drank.

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

He began to kiss me, and with each kiss, my body relaxed, something I enjoyed. With every passing second, I lost more of my sanity, and his kisses were so soft and tender that I completely lost control and played along. For some reason, heroic sounds started to escape my lips. I couldn't believe that in my everyday life, I hardly spoke, yet now the only sounds that came from me were heroic. He laughed with every moan that escaped from my lips. When he entered me, I must admit it hurt a little, but then I enjoyed it. He was gentle and patient throughout, not treating me roughly. On the contrary, he treated me like a queen, and I got lost in his caresses until we both reached the pinnacle of pleasure together.

"That idiot of your ex doesn't know what he's missing, but I'm grateful that he never touched you. Now, you're only mine, and no one will ever be able to touch you," Dmitry said as he held me close to his chest.

I wanted to reach for my cell phone, but he prevented me. Instead, he carried me with him as he sat in the chair, and then we entered the bathroom together.

"I want to hear you moan again," he whispered in my ear, and then he claimed me once more in the bathtub. Afterward, we returned to bed and slept embraced.

It was a new sensation for me, but being in his arms made me feel secure and unafraid. 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 not want me, a mere mute, to be his queen.