THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance by Elena Monroe (ebook reader android .txt) 📕

Kicking the door closed with his foot, he rushed me before I could get up, his grip on me yanking me back to my feet. His voice seeped into me from behind, pushing me forward. “You finally remember? Tell me what I did. I wanna hear your pretty lips say it.”

I didn’t notice the wetness on my face until the salty tears touched my dry lips. “You’re disgusting. I’m untouchable now, you can’t risk it. Let me go, now, Elias.” I stabbed my words forward, but they hit a dead end in front of me.

Pushing me into the edge of the couch, his body pinned me down again as his hands ripped my robe off, exposing me. My thong showcasing my ass and push up bra only gave him ideas as the weight of his hand pushed onto my back, forcing me to bend.

I felt his free hand smooth down my arms, pushing the straps free, my breasts barely left in the material. Before I could register what was happening next, he pushed his fingers between my legs, staining all of me… again.

I wanted to scream, cry, and hate myself for enjoying my new freedom when that doesn’t exist while he’s a living, breathing reminder that I wasn’t strong enough.

Here I was the strongest person everyone knew, but in Denmark none of that mattered.

There was no strong enough.

His fingers violated my pussy, roughly against the dryness until he gave up and tugged the band of my thong down my legs. Not bothering to pull them down completely in his rushed movements, I slammed my eyes shut and did something I never did: pray.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Bowey ran towards my stepbrother who now had his hand on the inside of my thigh moving closer and closer to the parts of me that weren’t his.

I turned around, watching in awe as my husband’s hand wrapped around his throat, pushing him further into our house—effectively stopping him from saying much else with his fingers digging into his skin. Elias was gasping for air, arms thrashing against nothing.

Slamming his back into the marble island, I watched Bowen cock his fist back causing Elias to shudder, trying to avoid being hit. There was no avoiding his rage, it filled the room top to bottom, and I expected Elias to be bleeding out soon.

Slowly walking closer, I picked up my robe and quickly tied it back around my waist. Rounding the island, I noticed the paper tent I hadn't seen before. Flipping it open, I read Bowen’s cursive writing: I’ll be back. Your Bowey.

Something did change last night. 

I wasn’t the only one feeling more free.

Until I noticed a bottle that was still firmly in his grip when he set it down to give Elias his full attention. “She came onto me...”

My face sunk in on itself and my heart crumpled up as soon as he barfed up that lie. I wanted to punch him myself but even the idea of hurting him made me disgusted—he’d probably like it. 

I always fought against his grip and it only ever made him want me more. 

Elias's eyes scraped down my body, smirking shamelessly before Bowen realized he wasn’t even looking at him threatening to break bones in his face… he was looking at me standing here uncomfortably like I needed to shower his touch off.

Bowen clasped down on his jaw, forcing him to look at him in his punishing grip. “Did you- you fucking piece of shit.” His knuckles were already burning red and sprinkled with Elias’s blood. The

punishing blows didn’t stop filling the kitchen with dense, deep, sounds of skin on skin. I swore my spine shot up straighter when I heard the deep crack of bone on bone.

I wasn’t even sure why my eyes were watering more—if it was because Bowen knew I’d been touched again or the fact that all the air in the room felt violating as much as his hand between my legs did. The sudden silence pulled me back to the moment as I opened my eyes to see Bowen turned to me with this look in his eye like I wasn’t as pristine anymore.

I never wanted to be a Pretty Princess, yet, when he called me that it made me want to be nothing but perfect for him. 

Elias groaned, holding his face as he sank to the floor trying to recover. “She’s sloppy seconds, not worth the effort, isn’t that right? She can’t even fake enjoying it. Wasn’t worth the price you paid.”

Bowen wasn’t being cruel after all; he did pay for me and my nightmare just confirmed it.

Who pays for someone? What kind of parent lets someone pay for their daughter?

This wasn’t the 1700’s where a dowry was needed to marry someone. 

Soulmates don’t have a price tag. 

Forcing myself to look down, I watched Bowen’s grasp hold him in place even though his body was basically limp. Blood washed over his All-American boy features that made him seem less evil than he is.

Bowen’s boot ground onto Elias’s fingers lying on the floor of the hand not nursing his wound as he sucked in a breath. “Shut the fuck up,” he barked down at him, giving him one last painful blow to the head to knock him out before his murky gray eyes found mine again. “What the fuck happened, Evey?”

Shaking my head with silent tears running down my face, I fled the scene heading up the stairs to our bedroom.

I didn’t want to speak this demon’s name.

I didn’t want to admit the devil in the details of what transpired here.

I never wanted to explain this to Bowen.

I said enough last night without filling in the blanks.

“Eve? Evey?” He shouted after me when I felt trapped and ran into the bathroom, getting into the tub, hugging my