30

Ivy

I lie in bed most of the day, staring at the rectangle of waning light coming into my room. I flushed some of the food Antonia brought down the toilet so she would think I ate and leave me alone. He’s managing that too. Probably getting daily reports. Hourly, maybe. He’s just controlling enough.

I am a body to him. A body he can humiliate and fuck and ultimately use to make babies. Then what? What happens when I’m all used up?

No. I don’t need to think about that. I know. He’s told me.

I turn over as the door opens. No knock. Mercedes strolls into my room like she owns the place.

“Well, aren’t you lazy,” she says, gaze condescending.

I sit up. “What do you want, Mercedes? I’m not in the mood to deal with you.”

Two women follow her in, one carrying a garment bag, the other rolling in a small suitcase.

The gala.

Shit.

“I’m not going,” I tell her before she can get a word in. I get out of the bed to go to the bathroom. Although my period’s lighter than it would usually be, the birth control shot has done nothing for my cramps.

“That’s not up to you,” she says, slipping the toe of her blood-red stilettos in the doorway so I can’t close it. “Or didn’t my brother mention that? You do as you’re told. Period.”

I stop pushing at the door, let it go and step into her face. She’s taller than me with those shoes while I’m barefoot, so I have to look up at her. “You and your brother can both go fuck yourselves. I have cramps. Get the hell out.”

“Cramps?”

“What? You don’t get the report about my cycles too?”

“What are you talking about?”

The fight goes out of me. I’m more depressed than angry, and it’s not her I’m angry with. “Nothing. Just go. You can torture me tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so. We only have an hour to get you ready, so do what you need to do in here,” she says, walking away to return a moment later with her purse and taking out a bottle of aspirin. She sets it on the counter. “Here. I’ll even give you aspirin. Not that you deserve pain relief.”

That anger is back, and now it’s directed precisely on her.

“What the fuck is wrong with the two of you? I barely even knew that you existed before I was forced to marry your brother. To live in this little corner of hell. What did I do to you that made you hate me so much?”

Her eyes grow darker, mouth tighter, and I see her hands fist at her sides. She’s gritting her teeth, and I know she wants to say something, but she’s holding back. “You’re lucky my brother stands between me and you, Ivy Moreno, because I wouldn’t be so gentle with you.”

“Gentle? You think he’s gentle?”

She snorts.

“Do you? Because you’re as deluded as he is if you do!”

“Don’t forget your place.”

“My place? Get out. Just get the fuck out of my room!”

“You’re in my house. Mine. You don’t tell me to get out.”

“It's Santiago's house. My husband’s house!” I don’t even know why I say it. Why I’m goading her.

“Oh! Your husband. That's right.” She tilts her head to the side and grins. “Do you have any idea why he made you his wife? Why a man like my brother would even look at you twice?”

“I wish I did. Get out, Mercedes. I mean it.”

“He hates you.”

Her words manage to hit something tender inside me. I don’t know why. I don’t care about her or what she thinks. And maybe it’s the day or the past few days. I don’t know. But before I can open my mouth to tell her to go away again, she continues.

“Please tell me you knew that,” she says, that grin growing wide.

“Just go. Please.”

“Aw. You didn’t know?”

I feel my face crumple at her feigned concern. I’m not even sure why. I knew all of this. It’s not news to me that he hates me.

“He may enjoy fucking you, but he’s a man. You’re a toy to him. Like so many others.”

She shows all her teeth as she sneers, victorious at that last dig.

I force myself to stand up straighter and step closer to her. “What’s the matter, Mercedes? You feeling threatened by someone so inconsequential as me? Because from the look of you, I’d say you’re jealous.”

Her face goes beet red, and she fists her hands. For a moment, I think she’s going to hit me, but then she spins on her heel. “Get Nathan in here!” she snaps to someone.

I push the door closed but listen, my heart hammering. I hear a man’s voice a few minutes later. I recognize it, but I hadn’t known his name. Nathan is one of Mercedes’s bodyguards.

“You make sure they get her dressed in the dress I brought. Make sure she sits her skinny little ass down and lets them do their work exactly as I’ve instructed. And you call me before she’s allowed out of here. Do whatever you need to do to make sure she does as she’s told, am I clear?”

“Your brother gave—”

“I will deal with my brother! You just do as I tell you, or you’re finished here! Am I fucking clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I back away from the door and turn on the tap to wash my face, seeing how my hands are trembling.

I knew I was hated. I never doubted that. At least when it came to Mercedes. With him, there were moments—

No. I can’t do that. I can’t ever think about those moments. He is a monster. He is the devil. They both are. And they have me in their sights, and I don’t even know why.

I’m not strong enough to fight them.

That’s the one thing I know without a doubt.

I splash water on my face, then dry it. I pick up the bottle of aspirin and open it. It’s almost full. I swallow two, then set the bottle back down and prepare myself to face the women gathered in the next room, ready to do as I’m told, trusting that Nathan will do exactly as Mercedes instructed, even if it means hurting me.