Chapter 13 ~ Roller coaster
Athena
The sharp crack of my palm against his cheek rings through the room. My chest heaves with fury, and my hands tremble at my sides. The audacity. The sheer, infuriating arrogance of him.
My head is still tipsy but thanks to his insult. My mind is no longer foggy.
Alex doesn’t flinch. Instead, his lips curl into a smirk, his green eyes darkening with something dangerous. Something possessive.
But I’m mad as hell and he knows it.
“You will not insult me!” I spit.
Anger radiating off me In waves. But it’s like this man is a wall because he doesn’t seem bothered. He takes one step back, placing his hands in his pocket before finding my gaze again.
“You will not see him again.” His voice is low, but I heard him just fine.
I scoff, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “I’m not your wife, Alex. We’re getting divorced. I can do whatever the hell I want. Do you suffer from memory loss?”
His smirk deepens, amusement flashing in his gaze as he takes a slow, deliberate step toward me. “Try me.”
I refuse to back down. “You’re a sick and twisted son of a bitch. Do you know That?”
“I doubt Ariana King will appreciate you calling her a bitch.”
“You’re so annoying! Stop manipulating me. I love that woman and sometimes I wonder how she birthed a monster like you. Just leave me the hell alone. What, you want me to beg? Want me to cry?”
His breath fans against my skin as he leans in, crowding me until my back presses against the counter.
“No, Athena.” His voice is almost a whisper, but there’s nothing soft about it. “I want you to understand.”
“Leah understands you just fine, focus on her because I won’t do anything you say. So you can take your stupid commands and shove them where the sun doesn’t-!”
He steps closer, his presence suffocating and making my throat dry as I hold onto the rest of the words.
I refuse to back down, I refuse to let him degrade and insult me.
“You don’t own me.”
He tilts his head, considering me like a predator would its prey.
“Is that what you want? Me to own you?”
1/4
My stomach turns, looking at him I wouldn’t put insanity beyond him. But I hold his gaze, refusing to let him see the flicker of
unease crawling down my spine.
“You’re disgusting.‘
His expression darkens, but amusement lingers at the edges. “And you? You’re my wife until I say otherwise, Athena. If you think otherwise, I’d be more than happy to remind you what you signed up for.”
I exhale sharply, frustration curling my fingers into fists. “You have no right-”
He moves so fast I barely register it. One moment, I’m standing my ground, the next, his fingers close around my wrist, tight and
hard.
“Alex-”
“You’re drunk,” he cuts me off coldly.
“So what?” I retort in irritation.
“It’s annoying me so, you’re going to sober up.”
Before I can protest, he’s dragging me through the hall, his grip firm despite my attempts to wrench free. The sound of the bathroom door slamming shut behind us echoes in my ears. My heart pounds as he shoves me toward the shower.
“Undress.”
I blink, my breath catching in my throat. “Excuse me?”
His expression is unreadable, but his eyes are dark and intense. “You heard me. Take a cold shower. Sober up.”
I laugh, the sound dry, disbelieving. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to strip in front of you.”
Alex steps closer, his presence overwhelming. His fingers brush against my jaw, tilting my chin up until I have no choice but to
look into his eyes.
“My patience for you has already run out, Athena,” he murmurs, voice like a blade against my skin. “Take. Them. Off!”
My breath hitches. The air between us is thick and charged. My pulse thrums in my ears, drowning out every rational thought.
I lift my chin, staring him down even as my fingers hesitantly move to the hem of my shirt. His gaze flickers down, watching,
waiting.
I should stop.
I should fight.
But instead,
I start to undress.
2/4
Chapter 13 – Roller coaster
My breath shudders as I peel my shirt off, the fabric slipping from my fingers and landing in a careless heap on the floor.
The cold air kisses my skin, but it does nothing to cool the heat pooling deep in my core.
My nipples tighten, betraying me, and I press my thighs together, hoping–praying–that it will dull the ache growing between
them.
But it doesn’t.
Alex doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He just watches me.
His green eyes are unreadable, his face carved from stone. If I were braver, I’d call it disinterest.
Boredom.
Plain vanilla.
Nothing exciting.
The thought cuts deeper than I expect, lodging itself somewhere inside me, twisting.
After everything–after all his anger, his jealousy, his possessiveness–I wanted something.
A reaction. Anything to prove I wasn’t just some discarded thing.
My lips part, but no words come out. The weight of his gaze pins me in place, scrutinizing, analyzing, stripping me down further than my bare skin ever could.
And then, finally, he moves.
It’s not a step forward, not a shift in stance–just the barest tilt of his head like he’s dissecting something insignificant.
Like I’m insignificant.
“You’re dragging this out,” he says, voices deep, rough, detached. “Either take the rest off or I’ll strip you down myself.”
I hate him.
I hate how his words sink under my skin, burning with the same fire licking through my veins.
I hate how much I want his hands on me. His big smooth hands touching me in forbidden places.
I hate how he’s looking at me like I’m a damn chore–like this is just another mess he has to clean up.
I force my hands to move, fingers trembling as I reach for the waistband of my pants. The room is silent except for my shallow
breathing and the sound of fabric rustling as I push them down my hips.
His eyes stay on me, roaming, tracking every movement, and yet there’s nothing on his face.
No heat. No hunger. Just a predator watching his prey behave exactly as expected.
3/4
I’m suffocating under it. Under him.
“Is this what you wanted?” My voice is raw, laced with something desperate, something I don’t understand. “To humiliate me?
To prove some twisted point?”
Alex steps forward, slow and deliberate. My pulse pounds in my ears as he lifts a hand-
And grips my chin, forcing my head back until our eyes lock.
“You think this is humiliation?” His breath ghosts over my lips, deceptively soft compared to the steel in his voice. “You don’t
know what humiliation is, Athena.”
A shiver runs down my spine, equal parts fear and something else. Something I don’t want to name.
His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, slow, deliberate. Then suddenly, he pulls back, placing his hands in his pockets.
“You will not see Noah again or else I’ll punish him for it. And the next time you want to get drunk, you’ll only do it where I can
see you.” He says and walks out leaving me to stare at the door he just walked out of.
My stomach clenches, every fiber of my being at war with itself. I should have shoved him away. I should have told him to fuck
himself.
But all I can do is stand there, skin burning, body betraying me, as my mind replays my husband’s actions today like a song on a
fucking loop.
What the hell does this man want from me?
P
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