Septemberjoonie
"Because that's how I feel," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled. That bitter, sharp laugh that always made her chest tighten.
"Good," he said, rising.
"That's exactly what I want. To remind you-every single day-that you are here not because you love me. But because I made you mine. Because I own you."
Y/n's fists clenched.
"You don't own me," she said quietly.
He smirk and sigh.
"No? Then walk out of this room," he said.
"Call your lover...Tell him the truth. Tell your parents I forced you. I won't stop you."
She stared at him.
"But you won't," he smirked, letting go of her.
"Because you're scared, Y/n. Not of me... but of what I can do. One phone call and your father loses his life."
She turned her face away, eyes filled with silent rage and helplessness.
"You really are a monster," she whispered.
He stepped back, voice now cold as ice.
"No, sweetheart. I'm your husband."