Maria Vasilievna is the wife of one of the richest men in the world, Alexander Vasiliev. As the wife of a wealthy man, she must abide by certain standards and obey her husband, always supporting him and taking care of him. In turn, her husband treat...
The most painful type of sad, the worst type of hurt, is when your tears can't even fall and you feel nothing; you feel more than nothing, you feel apathy.
It's like the world has just ended and you can't cry, see, hear, think, or breathe. You just stay.
For a moment, your heart dies.
The only thing I wondered is why Misha had hurt me so much?
Why him?
Even when Alexander wrote to them that he didn't want me back, that didn't pierce me as painfully as this. Even being torn apart from him for more than a few days or weeks didn't nearly hurt me as much as this.
'It's because you trusted him,' A voice whispered to me.
The funniest thing was that now I wanted to be back with Alexander. Why was that funny? Because that was my biggest fear, returning back to him after everything I learned about his true self.
Maybe... maybe just maybe that wasn't my biggest fear?
Something told me that the reason my heart had died was that my biggest fear was the one who had caused my pain.
"Maria, open." I heard his voice behind the locked door.
I closed my eyes.
Come on, cry! Let your emotions fall all over the place and let all this agonizing pain out! Maria, darn you, cry!
I couldn't, the tears wouldn't come. They were being replaced with an empty nothingness, and empty carelessness, and just empty, lonely, darkness. I took a deep breath and stood up. I trudged to the door and opened it to reveal him.
His shirt clung to his body, lining his muscles. The scar on his neck and on his face drew my eyes to them. Funny, a day ago I would have known exactly who was standing at my door. The scars seemed so familiar, the muscular body shape, and the eyes.
But this was a different person. I didn't know what he was thinking. I didn't know what he wanted. I couldn't read his eyes or his face and his scars terrified me.
His eyes, dark and dangerous. Empty and cold. Emotionless and unresponsive. So different to the eyes I was used to.
"We're attending an event tonight. Dress nice."
His voices sounded strange to my ears. It was deep and powerful, very similar to the one I was used to but... not quite. I couldn't tell what the difference was; maybe there was a problem with my ears?
I nodded. Yes, that was it.
He left the room and I sat on my bed. Like I've mentioned before, I couldn't feel anything except for apathy. There was no motivation in me to get up and do anything.
'You'll have to eventually,' my brain whispered to me.
Yes, I knew. I knew I would have to be as obedient as a slave to a king and if they said to be ready and look nice, then I would.
And so I did. I got ready. I knew I had a long while before we had to go, but I couldn't do anything else.
I sat in white; all white and gold. Snow white pants, a snow white top, and a long white jacket, or blazer. I had a gold necklace and bracelet, and large, dangly, gold earrings. A gold belt was the only barrier between the top and the pants. I had on white heels, with a hint of gold.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
