Episode 8

DOMINIC

I wake up in the morning with a wicked headache, glance beside me to find Allana's usual curled up form is absent. With considerable effort, I manage to rise and gaze down at the bed, noticing blood on the sheets. She was a virgin, and I hadn't even realized it, my senses dulled by alcohol.

I run my hands through my hair anxiously. Damn, I hope I wasn't too rough with her, but this was bound to happen sooner or later. She's my wife and will always be, even if she doesn't desire it.

She's already tied to me, she is mine, and even if she tries to run away, I'll bring her back as many times as necessary. Our first time together I was drunk, I didn't feel much of what happened, so I want her again. I want her, but I wish I knew what it was like to be with a virgin.

She was the first virgin I'd been with, and it surprises me. Who these days waits so long? And for what? Maybe she had a boyfriend she was saving herself for?

Well, if she did, it's over now. There's no point because she's my woman, and I don't share my possessions with anyone, not even family members.

I got lucky that she isn't wanted by her family, that way, no one will come looking for her, nor will she want to run there, since she didn't have a home.

I get up to shower to get rid of the hangover, and the memories of last night slowly come back to me. I lean my hand against the wall and lower my head. Each memory hits like a hammer, stuff I shouldn't care so much about. I don't know why it bothers me now.

Shit, worse is that she'll hate me for the rest of her life. A virgin always dreams of her first time with a prince, something I'm not. But, I also shouldn't have drunk so much.

I should have been gentler with her, especially the first time. I should have taken it slow. But what's done is done, it happened the way it had to. No use crying over spilled milk now.

I finish my shower, wrap a towel around my waist, and go to brush my teeth, the taste of the drink still lingering.

I think it's time to replace this toothbrush, I toss it out and grab another, but the foul taste persists. Must be from the drink, what else can it be? I need to stop this binge drinking.

I brush my teeth and throw it away along with the other. The bad taste remains, so I gargle with mouthwash, which helps a lot.

I'll take her for a walk as a way of making amends. I'll buy clothes and everything a significant woman needs, top quality stuff.

But first, I need to find her. The first door next to ours, I see her sleeping bottom-up, wearing my favorite shirt, delicious.

At least we share the same tastes.

Calling her would be useless, I have to shake her awake, and when she sees me, she gets up and steps back, frightened of me.

What the hell is this feeling of guilt that's creeping up on me?

Never felt this with any other woman, just what I needed.

I write on a paper and hand it to her. She takes it with fear and just nods her head.

I leave the room and go back to ours, and she follows me in. When I see her, I'm lost in her beauty. She has the delicate features of a girl-woman. Not one of those artificial women with lavish curves. She is just right.

She walks past me carrying her clothes to the bathroom. She doesn't speak to me. I wish at least to hear her sweet voice.

I respect her privacy and go downstairs for breakfast, but I wait for her, just pecking at the cup until she comes.

But before she shows up, here comes Maria.

"How was the wedding night?"

"Perfect as it should be," I say, showing no emotion.

"Oh wow, that's so enthusiastic, haha."

I hear footsteps and there she is in the clothes I pulled from the streets. At least they're clean now.

She sits far from me. I want her close and gesture for her to look at me, but she doesn't. Next time, I'll have all other chairs removed so she has to sit close to me.

We finish breakfast, and I take her to the car to go clothes shopping for her.

I get in the car and am about to buckle up when she sits in the back.

"You've got to be kidding, as if I'm your driver."

I get out of the car and call the chauffeur, telling him to take us, since she clearly wants a personal driver.

I sit beside her, and she glances my way and rolls her eyes. I hate it when people roll their eyes at me. It shows lack of respect, like I hold no value, and it's annoying.

We arrive at the store, and the clerks come smiling at me, pretending not to see Allana with me.

"What can I do for you, Dom?" one of them asks flirtatiously.

I bite my lip, but I'm holding back this time.

"Shop for my wife's clothes. I want only exclusive items for her."

"Right this way."

I tug Allana along, her eyes wide with amazement at the shop.

At least I managed to impress her.

The clerks start bringing clothes and I handpick each one, even choosing an outfit for her to wear today to get rid of the old rag she's wearing.

She looks beautiful, and when she's about to change, I pull her back. I want her like this – that way, no one will snub her again.

And it works. In the next stores, she's treated better, receives more attention.

Then I take her to buy cosmetics that women love. I head straight to my favorite store and select everything I like for her to use.

After all the purchases, I take her out for lunch where we sit facing each other at the table.

I scan the menu and know what to order for both of us. But then she looks aside and back at me.

I turn to see two men at the next table eyeing her.

Can't believe they're flirting with my woman.

I look back at her to find her head lowered, hair tossed to the side.

Is she flaunting herself to these guys? Right in front of me?

She's far too bold and foolish.

I rise furiously, upsetting the table. I grab her arm and pull her out of the restaurant.

I practically throw her into the car and order the driver to take us home.

"No more romantic lunch, you'll eat at home to learn not to play games. Can you believe that, John? She was flirting with two men right in front of me."

I speak to the driver, and as always, the good listener says nothing. Might as well be mute, a mute and a deaf in the same car.

Plus, a cuckold too.

We reach home, and I can see fear in her eyes as I drag her inside.

I take her straight to the dining table, seat her beside me, and then take my chair.

She is static, panting with fear, and I am gasping with the rage I feel towards her at the moment. She needs to learn not to mess with me, even if I have to be the worst man in the world, but she will fall in line, oh yes, she will.

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