She trembles when I yank the sheet from her grasp and toss it onto the floor. She's already trying to curl into herself when I tangle my fingers in her hair and drag her from the bed and force her onto her knees.

"You don't deserve a bed," I spit. "You don't deserve anything."

"Santiago, please." She brings her hands up to my thighs, feeling her way up my body in the dark. "I need to talk to you about what happened. I need to make you understand."

I clamp my hand around her jaw, forcing her lips to shut. "The only time you should open your mouth is to please me."

She tries to murmur a protest as I tug down the zipper of my trousers and pull my cock free, rubbing it against her cheek. I reach for her hair again, arching her head back.

"Show me how sorry you are," I command.

I release her jaw, and she renews her protest. "Please just let me talk. We need to talk."

"You want to talk?" I tighten my grip on her to the point I can practically feel her wincing. "Let's talk. I have so much to say to you, dear wife. Let's start with a refresher course. I fucking own you, and you seem to have forgotten that."

"I haven't," she whimpers.

"I control everything in your life," I answer menacingly. "That hospital room your father is lying half dead in? I could have them pull the plug with a single phone call. The nuns at your sister's school? They can make her life sweet, or they can make it one of misery. That fate is mine to determine just like everything else. Every choice you make has a consequence, and I think you would do well to remember it doesn't just impact you. Don't think for one second that any of your family is safe. Not even your sweet Hazel who ran away and left you behind."

"No," she whispers, clinging to me with a desperation that doesn't please me as much as I thought it would. "You can't do that. You wouldn't. I know you aren't the monster you want everyone to believe you are."

"You know nothing about me," I snarl, releasing her in disgust. "I have been lenient with you when you did not deserve it. And now, I'm simply biding my time. You're nothing more than a toy to be used. A doll to be fucked. And when I am done with you, make no mistake about it, there will be nothing left to salvage from the wreckage."

"I don't believe you." The tremor in her voice irritates me. Or perhaps it is her continued defiance to believe what I tell her to be true.