Collateral (18+)

"This is mine," he says, voice low and certain.
"My cunt to touch. To claim. To remind who she belongs to."
His thumb presses into my jaw, forcing my gaze up.
"And don't you dare pretend you don't like it."
-
I was raised to be untouchable.
In boardrooms, men fall silent when I speak.
In our world, weakness gets buried.
So when my father announces I'll be marrying our greatest enemy, I don't cry.
I calculate.
He should hate me.
My family destroyed his future. Took the woman he was supposed to marry.
Now I'm wearing her ring.
He doesn't shout.
He doesn't rage.
He just watches.
Like I'm something he's already decided to own.
This marriage is meant to end a war.
Instead, it becomes something far more dangerous.
He corners me in hallways.
Crowds me in elevators.
Speaks filth in my ear like it's a business proposal.
He says I'm his now.
His wife.
His problem.
His to use when he needs reminding who won.
I tell him I don't belong to anyone.
He laughs.
And every time my body betrays me - every time my breath stutters when his hand slides lower, every time I tremble instead of fight -
He leans close and whispers,
"Remember this the next time you try to hate me."