✔️ ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

Chapter 5

RITA

I feel like a product. On display. For sale.

That's the way he looks at me. "I just wanted to know what she looks like," he claims. "I already sent you a picture, didn't I?" my father asks him annoyed.

"You did," he hums — nodding his head, "but the technology is advanced, it could be or she could be very photogenic, I don't want to marry a tramp ."

"And? Are you content with what you see?" dad asks him — like I am a good he wants to sell.

"I am, she is a beautiful, flawless to the eye, I want to know if she's hiding any flaws on the inside." He pulls something out of his jacket.

I cannot make out what it is. But then I notice the tangible item in his hands. I gasp. "I want a blood sample to have her checked and make sure she doesn't have a disease."

I freeze. Please no. I am afraid of needles.

"And you couldn't ask me about it?" father ask with a huff as Nicolai approaches me with the vaccine.

"No, I don't trust anyone and I don't want to get illnesses from your daughter, in case she wasn't able to keep her legs closed," he says casually — taking my arm.

I have never felt so humiliated in my life. I want to scream. I want to yank my arm out of his gasp. But I cannot.

Father warned me to behave. And I am scared of the consequences if I do not. Therefore, I submit. Like I have done all my life.

My arm is trembling. I close my eyes — turning my head aside as I hate needles.

Suddenly, my arm yanks away. It isn't me. My mind decided to obey.

I do not feel a needle in my arm. Opening my eyes, I see that dad took my arm from him. Now, he is standing in front of me — protecting me from the man who literally called me a whore.

My father's defensive stance surprises me to the core. I am touched by his protectionism.

"I won't allow such disrespectful behavior. Not only do you humiliate my daughter, you also humiliate me by humiliating my blood," my father snaps at him.

Pulling his arm out of my father's grip, he looks at him challengingly. "I don't mean to offend you, I am just a cautious man," he says — his voice calm. But his glare menace.

"You do not have to worry, she is clean, you have my word," father tells him. Now, the topic is my virtue. I feel embarrassed and humiliated.

"And can I trust your word?" he asks with his eyes narrowed.

My father looks offended. "I will not only give you my daughter but also my empire as my son died and I have no male heir. So, yes, a little trust would be appreciated."

"All right," he agrees with a sigh — nodding his head, "I will trust you and I hope trusting you won't disappoint me."

"Good," father says. "If there is nothing else to discuss, you should leave and rest the night, tomorrow will be a hectic day."

He looks at my father — saying, "Actually, I would like to get to know my future wife a little before our wedding, if the offer still stands."

Father's brows dip down. Like a project — he analyses my future husband's body language, looking for a menace in his intentions.

I gulp. I am scared to be left alone with him. I hope he won't leave me with him. But all my hopes die when my father agrees, "Okay, twenty minutes, no longer."