Elena's POV:
I bring a hand up to my face to block out the light spilling in from the space in the curtains.
A yawn leaves my lips as I rub my dazed eyes. It's Monday. I need to get out of bed so I can prepare for work. Thank God the pain in my belly is not half as bad as yesterday. I'll be able to move around.
I reach for my painkillers on the table. There's also a bottle of water. I pop the pills open and throw them in my mouth, swallowing them down with the water.
I remain seated for about five minutes or so, trying to collect myself, before lazily sliding out of bed for my routine. I brush, shower, and change into fresh work clothes. Before I leave the room, I slip the card of painkillers into my bag. Just in case.
I can hear clinking sounds coming from the kitchen as I head down the stairs.
"Good morning, Lucia," I chirp when she comes into view.
"Oh. Morning, Elena darling. How are you feeling today?" she says, still focused on the dishes in front of her.
"I feel better," I laugh nervously. "Thank you."
"That's good," she nods. "Well, sit. I made you breakfast."
"Oh, no," I rush out. "I'm already late for work. I'll eat when I get there," I smile.
"Oh dear, didn't Adrian tell you?"
"Tell me what?" I crease my brows.
"He gave strict instructions that you shouldn't leave the house today until you're fine. He said he called your workplace too to let them know you won't be going in today."
My stomach dips.
"That's not possible. Adrian wouldn't..."
I pause, shaking my head. Then I rush for the door to look for Marcus. But he's not there. There's no car, and definitely no Marcus.
I walk back into the kitchen, anger growing inside of me.
"Why would he do that? There's absolutely nothing wrong with me, I can work! I mean, why would he even make that decision without informing me first? And calling my workplace too?!" Anger and frustration are simmering inside me, but I try my best to keep my voice level so I don't take it out on Lucia.
"You know how Adrian is, dear. He probably just wants you to rest. I'm sure he means well," she shrugs her shoulders.
"Lucia, you don't understand." I draw a deep breath in, closing my eyes to calm myself.
"He has no right. I never told him I wouldn't be able to go to work. He had no right to come to that decision without informing me first, and he definitely had no right to call my workplace."
Well, he is the owner, but still!
"You need to calm down, okay? You guys can talk it out when he gets back home."
I clench my jaw tightly.
"I've lost my appetite. Save the food for later," I say before heading towards the stairs.
"Miss..." Lucia calls after me, but I'm not listening. I'm pissed.
I can't even fuckin' believe this. What ever made him think he could just decide that on his own?
If I couldn't go to work, I would have told him, or I'd just call in sick. But I just started the damn job, what would it look like if I start missing work already?
As I reach my room, I slam the door behind me, take off my shoes, throwing them to the side, and slump onto the bed, letting out a loud groan.
Then I sit up again and lean on the headboard.
The more I think about it, he never cared. He didn't care yesterday, and he doesn't care today.
I really thought I was seeing new sides to him that he hadn't shown before. But now it turns out he was just being possessive.
All the care he showed me yesterday...it wasn't real. This is the real him. The possessive Adrian that feels like he owns every fuckin' thing around him.
The Adrian that thinks he can just wake up and make decisions for people.
I scoff deeply. And I thought he wasn't actually that bad. Somehow, I always have the poorest judgement of people.
Because he owns the fuckin' building doesn't mean he should exude power where it's not necessary.
He doesn't fuckin' own me.
I fall back again and let my face sink into the pillow.
This is not fuckin' happening.
Adrian's POV:
As I step inside the house, I close the door behind me. It's quiet.
I make my way for the kitchen, but then I hear footsteps. Hurried ones, and then Elena appears at the top of the stairs with visible anger on her face.
Great.
I ignore her and keep walking.
"Don't ignore me, Adrian," she grits, following behind me.
I place my bag on the counter, then grab a bottle of water from the fridge and a glass to fill it up.
"What happened today?"
Putting back the remaining water in the fridge, I turn to her with a sigh.
"And what is that?" I ask flatly.
"Don't," she bites. "Don't play that with me, Adrian. I'm serious."
"Do I look like I'm joking?" I narrow my eyes on her before bringing the glass to my lips.
"Adrian..." she closes her eyes, inhaling deeply, then she opens them again. "Why wasn't Marcus outside to take me to work today?"
"I told him not to," I answer plainly.
"Why?!" She shrieks, her eyes flashing with anger.
"Because you're sick."
"I'm not sick!" she says through clamped teeth. "Being sick and being on my period are two completely different things, Adrian."
"Well, it didn't seem all that different to me."
She's staring at me with intensity. Like she could literally grab a knife and stab me. Of course, I wouldn't blame her, though.
"You had no right. No fuckin' right, Adrian. I mean, you didn't see it fit to ask me first? I never complained to you, I never said I wouldn't be able to work, so why?!"
"It's been only a week since I got the job and you're always going out of your way to give me some sort of special treatment I didn't ask for. What exactly is your problem?!"
"I never asked you for shit, Adrian! I can handle myself!"
My jaw ticks. She's breathing hard. She's angry. And so am I.
"You needed rest," I grit.
"Did I tell you that? And even so, did that give you the right to stop me from going to work?!"
"We're done with this conversation." I drop my glass and reach for my bag, but she grips my wrist before I can reach it.
"No. We're not done."
My gaze slides over her hand on mine.
"You need to stop. You need to stop acting like you own me. You need to stop making decisions for me, and you need to stop acting like I'm not my own fuckin' person, Adrian."
I grip her wrist, pulling her toward me, spinning her so her back is to me. Then, with one hand, I hold her two hands in mine, and with the other, I grip the nape of her neck. Not tight.
A gasp leaves her lips. And it sounds like beautiful music to my ears.
Her back presses against my chest, our breaths heavy and syncing.
"Let go of me!" She grits, breathing hard.
"You..." I bring my lips to the shell of her ear. Her whole body shudders under me. "Keep testing me."
My breathing is ragged, the warmth from her body glued to mine and her soft ass pressing against me sends heat straight to my groin. I hiss.
"I gave you that job, Elena, don't forget that. If I didn't let you, you wouldn't be working there in the first place."
"Don't. Test. Me."
"Or what?" Her chest heaves up and down, causing her boobs to jiggle slightly. "You're going to cage me here? Keep me from seeing the light of day?"
A soft laugh escapes her. "Go the fuck ahead!"
My hand leaves her neck, slides down her side, and I grip her thigh. Hard.
"Ahhh," she pushes back abruptly, pressing on my already growing bulge.
Fuck!
My cock twitches.
I chuckle. "Your little act of rebellion doesn't work on me, you know that, right? Don't test me, Elena. You of all people should know not to do that. I can decide to stop you from working. I can decide to lock you up in this house so you won't even step out of the threshold. I can decide to do whatever the fuck I want,"
"And do you know why?" My grip tightens on her soft flesh. "It's because you're my wife. I own you, Elena."
"No one owns me. Most especially not you." She writhes, struggling beneath me, trying to wriggle out of my hold, but I press her back down.
My hand leaves her thigh and travels back up to her chin. I use a finger and lift her chin so she can see me.
There's anger in those eyes. Pure, raw anger, but there's also something else. A dazed look.
My eyes glide over her features and stop on those perfect, full lips. Lips that I want to feel against mine. Lips that I want somewhere else...
I force my eyes back up to hers. "Have I not told you to watch your tone when you speak to me?" My voice comes out throaty.
She doesn't answer, but her gaze is intense.
I hold her gaze; the only sound in the room is our harsh breaths. That defiance in her eyes..I want to quench it. If I bend her over, slide my cock into her wetness, and fuck her hard, would she still look at me with those eyes? with anger?
I need to pull away before I do something I'll regret. Pull the fuck away, Adrian!
I pull away from her abruptly, my breathing still uneven. "Go to bed."
She turns and glares at me. Her mouth opens like she wants to say something, but then she closes it again.
Then she raises her middle finger and shoves it in my face. "Fuck you, Adrian!"
And without another word, she stomps out of the kitchen.
You know when people say, "I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave"? I finally understand what it means. Because never in my 30 years of living have I seen a more perfect ass.
Dammit!
I run a hand through my hair, looking down at my pants. My dick is literally poking through the fabric.
This girl is going to drive me mad.
That's if I haven't already gone mad, because why would I tell Marcus that he's off today, knowing very well that it was going to piss Elena off?
But it is what I wanted, though. I wanted her to get upset. To get angry. The first day I went into her room and saw her on the floor, bleeding, I panicked.
I never thought periods could be that painful. And I took care of her. Me. I've never taken care of anyone in my god-damned life! Talk about someone that's on her period.
It only made me realize one thing. I care about her.
And that is bad. Really bad. I can't care about her.
And that's why I did this. I needed her to get angry at me. So she'd stay away. Or make me stay away. I noticed how her eyes softened when she looked at me that day. She probably thought of me as a gentleman or something.
But I need her to see that there's nothing gentle about me. I'm not that person. I needed to remind myself that I'm not that person and I can't bring myself to become that person.
It's better if she hates me, that way, she would expect less of me. And I can keep distancing myself from her.
But as I stand here, I realize that all my tactics are only going to backfire on me. Because I love seeing her angry. I love that fiery look in her eyes because I get the urge to quench it. To fuck the stubbornness out of her.
I open the fridge and take out the bottle of water from before, not bothering to put it in a glass.
I down the whole thing in one go, then I sigh heavily.
I truly am fucked.