Chapter Two

The after-party was a livelier affair than the wedding itself. Malia felt the fear gone, most of it at least. With the alcohol, she loosened up a bit. In between congratulations and well wishes, she danced with her husband. She had a sinking feeling he was putting on a show for publicity.

Grant Houston.

Who didn't know him? Known for being a fierce and goal-oriented CEO. He was rich, he was famous, he was handsome. The women he was spotted with were always famous or rich or daughters of billionaires. Malia wondered how exactly her father had gotten entangled with a man like this, and what she did to deserve the title of his wife.

Malia Houston. She didn't like the ring at all.

"Something on your mind?" Grant said, pulling her close to him. She could feel his heat radiating through his clothes.

Malia stared up at his eyes, she realized how easy it was to get lost in them. "Nothing much, just thinking about..." He twirled her under his arm and dipped her.

"How what?" He asked, amusement in his tone.

"How I'm not married." Malia finished, blushing a bit.

"Oh," He said. And he said it like 'Oh, what a waste of time.' Malia felt herself dim.

"So, tell me, what do you..." She was cut off by a phone ringing.

"That's for me," Grant said and picked up the call, all the while his eyes on her. After a few seconds, he turned and left without saying another word to her.

Stunned, too much to speak, Malia watched him leave. Her mind did a hundred miles per second, thinking to herself if he just left her without words. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame. Tears pricked her eyes and her heart hurt. Standing in the middle of the dance floor, abandoned, she wondered the kind of husband she had married. She didn't know when a tear breached her eyelashes. She quickly wiped it away.

What a cruel bastard.

She drew in a deep breath and straightened her back. She raised her head and wore a mask, a mask of composure, one of the many she had. She turned in a flourish and walked back to her seat. She drank a glass of wine in one go and ate a piece of fruit.

She knew deep down that she had married a monster.

A handsome one.

***

She didn't see her husband until three days later.

Malia was mad with anger and disgust. After the wedding party, one of Grant's bodyguards drove her to his villa, where she was left alone in the large space for three days. To say she was bored was a complete understatement. All the fantasies she had about her wedding night flew right out of the window. She slept alone, cuddling a pillow and wondering what evils she must have committed in her last life to deserve such a fate.

Slipping into the fourth day, Malia wished she could do something, or go somewhere. She wandered the entire span of the penthouse twice, memorizing the layout and every room that wasn't locked. Currently, she was sitting in front of the TV, a glass of wine in her hand. It was almost 11:00 p.m., and still no sign of Grant. A TV show on honeymoon destinations was on, and she felt sappy watching it.

Would Grant want a honeymoon? Why did she even care if he wanted it or not?

She sighed loudly. "I'm going crazy in here." She heard a door slam somewhere in the house and shot out of the couch. Her hand went to her thigh, where she'd strapped a knife. Her hand ghosted over the weapon under her dress as she crept silently to the source of the sound. She exhaled in relief when she saw Grant at the front door.

"It's you." She said, not knowing if to smile or not.

He glanced at her for a while. "What are you doing?"

"I thought we had an intruder."

"Does that explain the alcohol in your hands?"

Malia sighed softly. "No, it doesn't." He walked past her and into the kitchen. She followed him, making sure to keep a reasonable distance between them. "So, what did you do?"

"Run a company?" He replied, pouring himself a glass of water.

"And you didn't think it important enough to tell me?"

He slammed the glass on the kitchen counter, making Malia jump a bit. "Look, it's a bit too early for us to start fighting, isn't it?"

Malia narrowed her eyes. "Too early?! You left me in the middle of the dance floor without a single word. You disappeared from your wedding and now you're talking about fighting?!"

Grant rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "Malia, I am very tired. It's been a long day."

She stuck her tongue inside her cheek, staring at him with wide eyes. It reminded her of her father, in a way that made her very uncomfortable. "Alright, fine. It's been a long day, well talk about this later."

"Thank you."

"Would you like a shower? Maybe a bath?" She asked, her tone dipping at the end of her sentence. He looked up at her sharply. She was afraid he'd refuse. But instead, he smiled deviously.

"That would be wonderful."

Malia tried to control her disgust. "I'll get it ready." She turned and left the kitchen.

He had his shower without inviting her. Not that she was expecting him to. Even with someone else in the house, it was still very quiet and lonely. Malia missed her home very much, she missed her sister.

As she was about to go to sleep, Grant ushered himself into her room. She turned to stare at him with wary eyes.

"Is anything the problem?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong but, We didn't have our wedding night, right?"

Malia stilled. She knew this was eventually going to happen and there was no running from it. She flashed a bright smile. "No, we didn't."

Grant nodded. His hair was still damp from the shower, hanging over his eyes and forehead. His eyes were full of lust, looking at her like a predator that had locked in on its prey. And he was shirtless, showing off perfectly chiseled muscles. He walked over to her bed and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. She obediently followed his lead.

"You're beautiful, you know that." He whispered, his head dipping into the crook of her neck. She shivered as she felt his lips press against her pulse. His hand snaked around her waist and held her body as close to him as possible.

"T-thank you," she said, unsure of what else to say. She tilted her head to the side, allowing him to kiss more of her neck. One of his hands palmed her breasts through the silky night dress she wore. She drew in a sharp breath as he found her nipple through the material and rubbed it sensually. She was feeling a bit dizzy. Fuck! He smelled so good. When he laid her on the bed, she didn't resist him.

"Take this off." He said sharply, throwing off the shorts he wore. Alarmed, Malia gripped her nightdress

"What?" She whispered fiercely.

"I said take it off."

His eyes were dark with hunger. Malia didn't know if it scared her or turned her on. She took off the nightgown, pushing it aside. The second she did he was on her, groping her skin and forcefully kissing her neck. She tried to adjust herself, tried to focus on the feeling. But it wasn't a good feeling. It was too forceful to feel good.

"Grant..." She tried to call his attention, attempting to sit up. He pushed her into the bed, his body heavy on hers. She could feel his erection hot and throbbing on her thigh. She felt afraid suddenly. "Hey!"

"What?!" He snapped, raising his head to look at her.

"Could you calm down?"

"The fuck do you mean?" He scoffed. Without waiting for a response from her, he positioned himself at her entrance.

Malia paled, her voice getting stuck in her throat. Before she could tell him to slow down he filled her up in a single thrust. The scream that ripped from her throat was ear-splitting.

"Oh my god! Take it out! Take it out please!" She screamed, trying to push him off her.

"Be quiet will you?!" He groaned, grabbing both her hands and pinning them over her head. She began to sob, her body shaking. He peered down at where their bodies were connected.

"Are you a virgin?"