There was no use denying it. He was much stronger than me. And even if I screamed nobody would come to my help. Many men in my and his family would probably even hold me down to make it easer for him, not that he would have any trouble restraining me.
"You could," I admitted.
"And I would hate you for it until the end of my days."
He smirked.
"Do you think I care about that? This isn't a marriage of love. And you do already hate me. I can see it in your eyes."
He was right on both accounts. This wasn't about love and I hated him already, but hearing him say it crushed the last bit of foolish hope I had. I didn't say anything.
He gestured at the squeaky clean sheets of the bed.
"You heard what my father said about our tradition?"
My blood turned ice cold. I had, but until now I'd put it out off my mind. My courage had been for nothing. I stepped up to the bed and stared down at the sheets, my eyes boring into the spot where the proof of my lost virginity would have to be.
Tomorrow morning the women of his family would knock at our door and take with them the sheets to present them to his father and my father, so they could inspect the proof of our consummated marriage.
It was a damn tradition, but not one I could evade. The fight drained out off me.
Then I could hear he coming up behind me. He grasped my shoulders and I closed my eyes. I wouldn't make a sound. But not crying was a losing battle. The first tears already clung to my lashes, then dripped onto my skin and burned a trail down my cheeks and chin.
He slid his hands over my collarbones, then down to the edge of my dress. My lips quivered and I could feel a tear dropping from my chin.
Fu Shao hands tensed against my body.
For a moment, neither of us moved. He turned me to face him and pushed my chin up. His cold eyes scanned my face. My cheeks were wet with silent tears but I made no sound, only returned his gaze. He dropped his hands, jerked back with a string of curses, and then he drove his fist into the wall.
I gasped and jumped back. So I pressed my lips together as I watched his back. He was facing the wall, shoulders heaving. I quickly wiped the tears off my face.
You've done it. You've made him really angry. My eyes darted toward the door.
Maybe I could reach it before him.
Maybe I could even get outside before he caught up with me, but I'd never make it off the premises.
He turned around and removed his vest, revealing a black knife and gun. His fingers closed around the handle of the knife, his knuckles already turning red from the impact with the wall, and he pulled it out. The blade was curved like a claw short, sharp and deadly. It was black like the handle, so it couldn't easily be seen in the dark.
A knife for close a steel man.
Who knew Su Liang obsession with knives would ever be of use for me?
Now I could at least identify the knife that would cut me open.
Hysteric laughter wanted to fight its way out of my throat but I swallowed it.
He stared intently at the blade.