“Is that how you see me, as a job?” I asked.

“No. You’re my wife. It’s my duty to protect you.”

I tried to pull away. I shouldn’t feel anger or resentment and yet, that was exactly what I felt and I was so annoyed with the feeling. I put my hands on his chest. “I’m not your duty.”

“But you are my wife.”

“And … ugh, let me go.”

“No. Tell me why you’re upset.”

I glared at him. “Tell me how you’d feel if I had to … have sex with you out of duty? Out of it being a job.”

His lips brushed my ear. “You do have a duty to fuck me.”

I jerked back and shoved him hard.

He didn’t move.

This man was like a damn rock, and just knowing I couldn’t get him to move upset me.

“No part of me being with you has been a duty. I don’t sleep with you or fuck you because I have to. I’ve done it because I wanted to.”

“You think I believe our wedding night and the time after was for fun?”

“Don’t mess up my words. That was duty, but the times since, I liked it, and I didn’t do it out of obligation. I happen to enjoy your hands on my body, but right now, I want you to let me go.”

I tried to shove him away. He held me closer. His lips brushed against the curve of my neck, and I hated how weak I felt toward this man.

“You’re not a duty to me, Aurora.”

“After what you just said, you expect me to believe you?”

“Have you ever considered the fact I say things to find out what you think?” he asked.

I looked up at him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

He wouldn’t repeat himself. It was why whenever he talked, I forced myself to listen to every single word.

There was a knock on the door before it opened. The woman who’d been assisting us stepped in.

Slavik released my neck but placed his hand on my hip.

I gritted my teeth. He never seemed to want to let me go and it both thrilled and annoyed me. Slavik had my emotions all over the place.

“I want those dresses wrapped up and ready to go.” He took the dresses from my hand, gave them to the assistant, and within a matter of seconds, we were out of the shop.

His men surrounded him.

“How are we going to pay?”

“Everything has been taken care of.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling like an idiot for asking.

We walked through the city center. People avoided us, some crossing the street to get as far away from us as possible.

Slavik kept his head held high. He’d donned a pair of sunglasses, and I couldn’t see his eyes.

I walked by his side. His hand on my hip. A brand of ownership.

We made our way to a restaurant. Two of his men entered and we followed. The maître d’ was there to offer us a table, and we sat down.