Rage (Her Monsters Book One) - K.A Knight Page 0,1

had to—but I would be free of him.

I hear him moving in the other room and it brings me back to myself. The lingerie he’s given me is disgusting. It frames my now too skinny body, highlighting my large breasts and plump arse. I look like a fucking sex doll. The red lace frames my pale skin and the bruises marring it.

“Are you ready? You know how I hate waiting?” he calls, his voice already slurring from the whiskey he’s drinking.

I know that means it’s going to be a bad night. Blowing out a breath, I step into the bedroom to see him lounging on the bed in his suit, scrolling through his phone. The one thing he is more obsessed with than me.

“Tim, I can’t-” I flinch when his hard eyes look me over.

“What did we discuss last night?” His hard voice holds a warning and I tilt my head down, pretending to be submissive even as I fight myself to not look into his eyes and spit.

“Sorry, sir, I can’t wear this in front of your men,” I say softly, hoping he will let me change.

He slides from the bed and stalks towards me, stopping when his breath hits my face, making me crinkle my nose. “And why not?” he asks.

Think fast. Placing my hand gently on his chest, I shiver at the disgust crawling along my skin, even as he groans and grips my hips, thinking I want him. “Surely, sir, you don’t want your men to be able to look at what is yours?” I lower my voice, trying to be seductive.

Fluttering the fake eyelashes he makes me wear, I watch him carefully in case he snaps.

He hardens against my hand and I know it was the wrong move. “You dare question me? You question your husband?” he screams the questions in my face, and my heart stutters. Later he will blame the whiskey, he will cry and hold my broken body as he begs for my forgiveness, but for now, he is the monster I know and hate.

“I wouldn- I just-” My words cut off in a scream, as he rips one of the dangling diamond earring he demanded I wear from my ear. Pain shoots through my body, but I’ve had worse. I can feel the blood dripping down my neck and splashing on my heaving breasts. The sight only seems to spur him on.

“You will do what you are told.” He grips my chin and makes me look at him, his eyes are blown with lust, and I have to force myself not to cry. A knock at the door distracts him and I am eternally grateful, every time he fucks me it’s like I lose a piece of myself. My body isn’t my own.

“What the fuck do you want?” he yells, still gripping my chin hard enough to leave a bruise.

The door cracks open and one of his henchmen sticks his head around the door. He looks me over, appreciation filling his gaze before it quickly snaps back to Tim, as if not to be caught. “Sorry for the interruption sir, but they are here.” He retreats but throws me a smoldering look. I just stare blankly at him as the door shuts.

Grunting, Tim lets go of my chin and seems to forget I’m even there. Striding to the table next to his—our—bed, he downs his whiskey before shrugging into his black jacket and slipping his phone into the pocket.

He turns and looks me over. “You will do.” With that, he grips my arm and drags me from the room, and I know I am nothing more than an ornament tonight, a thing for him to show off. To flaunt his wealth and power.

Sitting on Tim’s knee as he laughs and jokes with his men, I look around in disgust. The penthouse is buzzing with activity. Butlers and servers rushing about, the women looking uneasy as the men taunt them and touch them, but none would dare question it. Not here, not now. These men are powerful, they run the city from the darkness like puppeteers. Police? They own them. Mayor? He is one of them. I can feel the eyes running down my body, undressing me and fucking me in their mind. I have to swallow my bile, even as it seems to please Tim.

“Wife, get me a drink,” he demands, pushing me from his knee and smacking my ass. The group of men we sit with eye me hungrily, and