I opened the door softly; surprisingly, the lights weren't turned off. Derek usually liked to set the mood and make it dark and brooding for his disobedient wife. He said I would never understand why he did what he did and that God knows what he's doing is right.

Do I believe that? No.

Do I go along with it? Yes.

I found him in the living room. Nicely dressed, he changed out of his church clothes but still dressed nicely. "I bought you some make-up." He said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to need to cover the bruises I give you."

I sniffed a little, feeling a lot more scared than I was before. "Derek," my voice wavered. "Please–"

He smacked me, causing me to lose balance. You might as well call that a punch.

"I'm sorry." I sobbed like a child. But Derek doesn't care. He keeps going, punching my stomach and arms, pinching my breasts, and not even in a sexy way. He deliberately tries to tear or bruise my nipples. "Stop, please." I shrieked in desperation as he started stomping on me.

He slaps me one last time, heaving and gasping for breath. "Go, get dressed, use the make-up. We're going to dinner with my boss." He panted.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

After checking my makeup for the hundredth time and putting my braids into a bun with a swoop covering the right side of my forehead, I walked down the stairs. It was kind of hard because the dress I was wearing was tightly fitted, and it was brushed up against my bruises.

"You look decent for once. Always being a slutty bitch." Derek looked me up and down.

I just stay quiet; I don't want anymore. I don't think I could take any more of his punishments.

He grabbed my arm and forced me into the car, bumping my head into the roof of the car. "When we get there, you sit down and shut the fuck up, or else you'll have more than bruises."

I only nod.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

When we got to the restaurant, I couldn't help but think about who Derek's boss was. This restaurant's too expensive for Derek. "Don't ask for any food. You won't get any, you whore."

"But–"

"A'roya, shut the fuck up before I fuck you up right here."

I nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

His boss wasn't what I expected. When I saw his boss I panicked, how is this man Derek's boss?

I guess I really was a sinner cause God was not on my side.

The gray-eyed handsome man–no Vampire, was sitting at the table as my husband's boss. Well, it must mean that he's done very well for himself as a human, but... this is the last thing I need, to sit here and pretend I don't want this man....this fine ass man.

I smile to myself. If my husband knew what kind of creature he was trying to dick-ride, he wouldn't be pleased.

I sit next to Derek and smile as if I have never seen him in my life.

Derek smiles. "This is my wife, A'roya Belford."

He furrows his brows. "Vincent Trancy," He sipped his wine. "You didn't take his last name?"

I blink multiple times. This question I better answer correctly because Derek's nails found my thigh.

I have bruises, but he knows I don't want scars, and that's exactly what he's threatening me with. "I was twenty-two, almost twenty-three when we married. I forgot about it, I would've, and I think I still can." I said with fake hope.

I did that on purpose; I didn't want anything to do with Derek, even his last name. I made my dad ask him if I could keep his last name for a fake family tradition.

"Interesting," Vincent's steel eyes skimmed over me. "Anyway, I asked you to accompany me to dinner because you earned a promotion and the company's stupid policy requires me to do this."

Derek smiled widely. "I'm thrilled, sir. I won't let you down. It's been my dream."

Vincent looks at him with disinterest for a second. "Cool," he looks at me. "What do you do?"

My eyes widened before I realized that it was a normal question. "I'm an intern neurologist doctor. I just graduated; actually, I just found a hospital, and I start tomorrow."

Shit....did I tell Derek this yet?

Derek looked at me. "A job?"

I chuckled nervously, nodding slowly. "Yes."

"Congrats, Ms. Belford–"

"Mrs. Belford." Derek gritted out.

Vincent inaudibly scoffed, showing off that sexy piercing on his....tongue. Oh lord, have mercy. "Well, now we have something to celebrate."

No. Please no. I know you can hear me, Vincent. I pleaded in my head. Please take the attention off me.

Vincent's eyes stared in confusion, but his face remained unscathed. "And, of course, your promotion, Derek."

The food came out, and we continued our conversations. I remain almost invisible, but Vincent's anger is almost visible. I think he can tell what's going on and what's going on under the table. Derek is gripping my thigh so hard; my ribs are pounding, my face is irritated from the makeup because of the bruises, and Derek doesn't order any food for me. I wouldn't be able to eat it anyway; I was so uncomfortable.

I wanted to cry.

And after I asked Vincent to avoid focusing on me, I don't think he stopped reading my mind, and I don't know how to stop thinking or not think.

Get out of my head.

He scoffed. "Derek, is there a reason why you're fucking gripping your wife's thigh?"

My eyes bulged as Derek was caught by surprise.

"I can see it on her fucking face." Vincent gritted out. His eyes turn red, and he looks straight into Derek's eyes. ""

Derek fell onto the table, snoring as my jaw dropped.

"He's hurting you, isn't he?"

I open my mouth to speak, but the words can't get out of my mouth. Like, this shit just got even more real.

I smile nervously. "Heh, your name is Vincent?"

He furrows his brows. "No shit." He looks over at Derek and back at me. "He's been abusing you, and you haven't told anyone, not even your siblings....or friends. All of your grown asses are still being controlled by your mothers–"

"Out of my head!" I whisper-yelled.

"Divorce him."

I shake my head. "I can't. Derek's a big person in the church. He proposed to me in front of the church, in front of my mom!"

"You've yet to come to your point," Vincent says, dumbfounded.

I rolled my eyes. "I was born in a very tight-knit religious community. Our mothers controlling us is all we know, all we're used to. All we want is to have our parents happy. If we cut off our parents, we cut off the whole family, a–and Derek. He'd find me and hurt me even more. No one would believe that Derek Foundler, a preacher and sales manager, would beat his wife. I'd be labeled as a liar. I'm in a predicament you can't help."

He scoffs. "You're my mate."

"You said you didn't want me."

"Well, I fucking lied." He rolls his eyes. "You can't tell when a damn person is lying?"

"You're not a person." I deadpanned.

He ignores my comment. "So, you're going to let him hurt you. I can see the bruises under your dress and makeup."

"I have no choice."

Vincent yanks me off the chair, making me scream in pain and hold onto him as people kind of stare at us. "I'm going to kill him. Look at how much pain you're in." He whispered in my ear.

"No!"

"A'roya–"

"Let's take it slow, ok? I need to start working and get my plan together."

"I'm a Vampire. I can do almost anything to get rid of him."

I shake my head. "Not death, please."

"So you're suggesting we have an affair."

I nod. "Yes, you're my m–mate, and I'm stuck in a marriage, so it is an affair."

"You want me to be the other man?" Vincent said in disgust.

I rolled my eyes. "If you're less of a jerk, maybe you'd be the main man. I'm just married to the unwanted other man–look, what I'm trying to say is that I find you really attractive, and I want to try with you."

He smirks. "Fine."