Zerina's POV

My body shook while my eyes stared in disbelief. He is my husband? Lysander Slade, the same man rumored to have lost three wives during a period of just five years.

I shook my head. What am I doing? They were just rumors. I shouldn't care how many partners he had lost in the past, shouldn't care whether the rumors were true or not.

Lysander slowly made his way towards the bed, and I instinctively moved towards the centre, creating some distance between us.

He loomed large while standing over me, his voice as cold as ice. "I know how glad you are to finally succeed in becoming my wife."

My jaw dropped open, shocked by his statement. Glad? I was anything but glad. My mind went blank.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." He leaned in, his long fingers gripping my chin while forcing me to meet his intense cold stare.

His face was still not clear to me, but his fingers on my jaw felt so hot , causing me to become a bit warm.

It didn't feel normal. I mean, was this the normal temperature of a person?

Bad enough for me, my silence worsened his disposition towards me.

He sneered, "You've already succeeded so why act innocent? Just drop the damn tricks."

Tricks? What the heck was he on to now? I was struck dumb by his remark. Before I could react, he pulled his hands away from my jaw. He removed his necktie, taking a nonchalant step towards the bed and promptly made himself comfortable. He sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, with one leg straight and the other folded up, so his knee was up in the air while his wrist rested on top of it.

His intense gaze was still on me as he unbuttoned his shirt

I felt his eyes on me the whole time. It made me feel like a prey at the mercy of a predator.

He stopped unbuttoning halfway through his shirt.

"Undress." He commanded. His voice was neither harsh nor cold but he sounded so authoritative as he uttered that one word, like he was used to giving orders and just expected them to be done— no questioning.

I was shocked, so shocked that I immediately fell into a daze. I didn't expect him to say such a thing to me.

"What?!"

He didn't move at all. His voice carried a deep, almost menacing tone. "Let's see if you really have what it takes to be my wife, right?"

The room was pitch black, and I could barely make out his face but the intensity of his gaze bore down on me like a spotlight, making blood drain out of my face.

I didn't want to have anything to do with this terrifying man, let alone consummate this marriage. My voice was quivering as I asked, "I-If..if I say I don't want to be your wife, will—will you let me go?"

I felt the aura around him become more dangerous. Shivering, I hugged myself and tried not to be scared. I was failing...alot.

He curled his fists into a ball and hissed, "I wouldn't say it again. Undress."

"No!!" I shook my head, as I clung the collar of my dress tightly.

Do I look like people who work for him and are obliged to obey his arrogant command? I don't want this marriage period.

Seizing the opportunity while he was still shocked at my answer, I turned around, trying to feel my way out of the bed.

He sneered, "Very stubborn, just like her father."

His reflexes were sharp. Already a step ahead of me, he grabbed my gown.

I fought back with all my might to break free from his grasp. I wasn't as strong as I felt this morning, I feel weaker now just as I've always felt. Recently, for the past two days, I kind of felt like I became stronger but what happened? Especially now that I needed that surge of energy.

I managed to pull out from his grasp, and I quickly ran off. Again, he was one step ahead of me.

He stormed over from the foot of the bed and roughly yanked me back onto it by my neck. His hot hands on my neck made me feel this hot sensation on my skin, and I struggled out of embarrassment and anger, "I don't want this marriage. Please, let me go. I beg you."

I hated how my voice sounded. Where was the courage I had when I talked to my father about this marriage. Where did it go?

"Weak," Lysander was unmoved by my cries and pleads, pinning me down with his muscular body towering above me . He whispered coldly in my ear, "You are married to me, right? Don't tell me you've thrown all your dreams of climbing the social ladder already ‘cause it's so fucking late now."

He disengaged himself a little from me, "Behave yourself this time or..." He smirked arrogantly. "Your fate will be worse than theirs. That, I promise you."

He warned me menacingly before getting off and sitting back on his previous comfortable position.

My heart froze. Who was he referring to when he said "worse than theirs"?

Did he mean the fate of his previous three wives who didn't survive their wedding nights?

I was consumed by fear as I stared up at the blurry face in front of me. With my teeth clenched, I dare not make another sound.

"You can't do it?" His eyes narrowed. Or you won't do it?"

I subconsciously swallowed.

"This is just the first step to take if you want to become my wife. Or should I say... One of my wives."

I looked him in the eyes, and there was only one thing I could decipher —he could kill me right now if I didn't oblige to his commands.

I hesitated a little, a tear dropped out of my eyes. This is me being unfortunate in life again.

Pulling my zip slowly downwards, I felt my dress loosen up the moment I did so. Instinctively, I caught the front of my dress with my other hand and held it up. I straightened my hands up once I was done unzipping my dress, pulling it off my head. Dropping it on the bed, immediately, I crossed my arms over my chest, shame washing over me. Tears pooled in my eyes.

Slowly, I looked up and he lifted an eyebrow when he met my eyes as if he was asking a silent question.

I stared blankly at him. What does he want now?

"Your panties.." he pointed. "Strip!"

I gasped, my reaction made the aura around him feel more dangerous. I didn't hesitate this time. The next second I lay naked except for my bra that I know might not remain on my body soon.

"Good girl." He commented as he reached out towards the second drawer of the bedside table and took out something red from inside it. He handed me an egg-shaped solid substance before returning to his spot.

I blinked. What is this? I examined it with deep curiosity.

"Don't keep me waiting. Put it inside," Lysander ordered.

Inside? Again, I examined it. It looked very familiar. Where have I seen it before? Was it...? That's when it hit me. Dave had it in his wardrobe too. I had seen it once when I was cleaning his room. It had piqued my interest back then.

What did Lysander mean by "put it inside"? Inside where? I looked up at him confused.

He was so serious that I didn't want to anger him again. I don't want to end up dying on my wedding night because I didn't obey ‘my husband’. I will survive this night no matter what. My name won't be on record as one of his dead wives.

With that resolve, I looked at him and then in the next second, I put it in the only place my brain thought was right— my mouth.