Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Morgan had tried to be nice to her, leave her food, anything to offer comfort. Nothing helped, and one day, the woman had taken her own life. One of the other maids had caught her hanging from a rope, her body swinging. Morgan hadn’t seen it, but she heard the others gossip.
She had seen people on The Beast’s property. None of them appeared to be marked, or cuffed, or tagged. They all looked happy, like this was their home. She didn’t know if it was fake or not.
At the sound of the door opening, she looked up to see the man himself step out onto the patio. Beast was tall, muscular. He wore a pair of black slacks and a crisp white top, the ink that covered his arms and body only hinted at through the white shirt. He looked every part the businessman, only out of place. The scars on his face told a story. Three lines down the right side of his face, more of them on his neck. He had thick black hair, with just a few hints of grey, as well as blue eyes, angry, sharp, focused. He moved swiftly, nothing wasted. This man was filled with purpose.
She watched him, unable to look away, as he was her husband.
Even though he was scarred, she knew there were plenty of women who would have him. They wouldn’t care about the scars, because of his wealth, his station. She had heard many women talk about him as if he was the ultimate dream, even within their world. The man everyone feared.
Morgan now belonged to him. He’d killed her family. She didn’t know if that meant she would be the last to go.
“Lunch is ready,” he said.
She nodded her head and then moved, stepping off the wet grass and walking toward him. Beast didn’t move. It was strange to think of him as Beast. That was not his name, she was sure of it.
Tucking some of her blonde hair back behind her ear, she reached down for the towel she’d brought out to wash her feet. Back at home, the consequences for causing a mess had been too severe to not remember. She tried not to shudder just thinking about it.
Once her feet were nice and dry, she stood up to find her husband was still staring at her, but he looked … angry, or at least angrier. Had he hoped for her to cause a mess so he could hurt her? No, that would be insane.
Her family were constantly complaining, telling her she needed to follow the rules. She had many scars on her back, her ass, and even her thighs to prove it.
It did make her wonder many times how her parents were going to be able to explain that number of scars. There was a time she had screamed at them, as the pain had been so bad. They had laughed at her, told her men didn’t want a disobedient wife, and in fact, it would give any husband she married permission to do what was right.
She’d felt so helpless. No one had been there to defend her.
The Beast spun on his heel, and she had to hurry to catch up with him. The man was like a machine, and all she could do was pick up the pace.
Once inside the dining room, she was again taken aback by the sheer size of the house. This man lived in total luxury. Also, it surprised her that everyone seemed to know where he lived.
Her husband walked to the table, pulled out a chair at the head, and waited. Clenching her hands into fists, she stepped up to him and sat down. He pushed her chair back under, and she waited, watching him as he sat down, and within seconds, they were being served lunch.
There were several cold meats, cheeses, pickles, crackers, and breads, along with pieces of dried and fresh fruit.
Morgan waited for him to start eating before she picked up her fork. Again, there were only so many slaps around the face one could take before you followed the rules. At her parents’ house, the men always started eating first; the women had to wait. Those were the rules, no matter the meal. It didn’t even matter if you were starving. You waited. Simple as that.
But, she learned to survive. She had learned to do a lot of things because of her parents.
Glancing over at her husband, she didn’t know what he planned for her, but she had a horrible feeling it wasn’t anything good.
****
Carver Turner couldn’t stand women who were afraid of him. He couldn’t stand it when they had no reason to fear him. He knew his reputation would terrify most people, but he’d not done anything wrong to Morgan.
In fact, going against his better judgment, he’d married her, although she was only twenty-one. She had her whole life ahead of her, but then, he knew if he didn’t marry her, some other bastard would.