He starts the car while I pretend to look at the street in front of me, but secretly, I watch him from the corner of my eye. Does he find this situation strange as well? Did he choose to get married, or did his boss order him? What if he has a girlfriend? Will he continue seeing her? What if he brings her to his apartment while I’m there? Does he expect me to sleep with him?
I let my gaze travel up his arm, noting the contours of hard muscles visible even under his sleeve. He seems focused on the road, and since I’m sitting on his blind side and leaning back in my seat, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t notice me watching him. I take the opportunity to inspect his face better. Whatever happened to him, it was not recent. Those scars look old. The interesting thing is, I don’t mind them at all. Actually, I find my husband extremely handsome, so physically, I have no complaints whatsoever.
The car slows down, probably for a red light on the street, and then stops. Mikhail turns his head toward me and pins me with his gaze. I guess I’m busted, but I don’t look away. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t call me out for my staring, just watches me until the light changes to green. Then, he turns back to the road and keeps driving. I don’t think I have ever met such a composed, controlled person. His face is completely expressionless. I can’t deduce anything from it. Is he angry because I was staring at him? Or maybe he doesn’t give a damn. Strange, strange man.
*
Mikhail parks the car in front of my father’s house and comes around just as I’m opening my door. He places his hands on my waist again and helps me down. The moment my feet reach the ground, he quickly removes his hands.
“Take only what you need for the next two days. I’ll send someone for the rest. It will be best if I wait for you here.”
“Five minutes,” I mouth the words, turn and rush inside the house, hoping I won’t meet anyone on the way to my room. Milene is at school, and there is no one else I care to see.
“Dear God, Bianca.” Allegra’s voice reaches me from behind as I’m heading upstairs. “How can you bear being near that monster?”
I stop at the bottom of the stairs and turn to face my older sister, who is standing with her hands on her hips, looking at me with distaste. For some reason, Allegra has always hated my guts and did her best to put me down with her poisonous comments, even when we were kids. Angelo once said she was jealous of me, which was ridiculous because Allegra was always the perfect daughter. Everyone has always adored her, while I was seen as a black sheep in our family, a pretty but flawed girl who couldn’t speak.
I take two steps in her direction and stop right in front of her. Reaching out to grasp for her hand, I look at her bare ring finger, mocking sadness, then pat the back of her hand and lift my own bearing the wedding ring. Having made my point, I flip her off and leave her staring daggers at my back. I know my sister’s weak points well, and I don’t have a problem exploiting them. Allegra’s main goal in life has always been to get married. She started making plans for her wedding day in the fourth grade. In her narrow-minded brain, my getting married before her was the most disastrous thing that could have happened.
My actions were petty, I know, but I couldn’t control myself. No one gets to speak like that about my husband. We may have an arranged marriage, but he has treated me better in the last twenty-four hours than some of my family members ever have. And I’ll be damned if I will allow my sister to say something like that without hitting back.
In my room, I grab the bag I had previously packed and turn to leave, only to find my father blocking the doorway.
“I expected a report last night, Bianca.”
I step forward, intending to pass by him, but he squeezes my forearm and pushes his face up against mine.
“Where is the phone I gave you?”
Making sure that every ounce of disgust I feel for him is visible on my face, I look up and point at the trash can next to the door, where I disposed of the phone the same day he gave it to me. He looks down at it, grinds his teeth, and slaps me across my cheek. A solid open-palmed blow has always been his favorite way of showing his displeasure with me.
“You will regret your disobedience, girl,” he sneers in my face and leaves.
I put the bag down and rush to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, and check for damage in the mirror. No broken lip this time, but there is a huge red mark covering most of my left cheek. Shit. I splash a bit more water onto it, then collect my bag on the way out of my room and leave the house in a hurry.