The cold marble floor in the mansion hallway felt like piercing ice against the soles of my feet as I ran away from Jax's room. The silk blanket I had wrapped around my body almost slipped off, but I didn't care. I just wanted to disappear. Jax's low, mocking laughter behind me still echoed, mixed with Joan's sharp gaze that seemed to have dissected my soul at the doorway earlier.
I managed to reach my own room, locking the door with trembling hands, and immediately collapsed behind the door leaf. My breath caught. I hugged my knees, mourning the stain that was now permanently attached to my life. The ruined wedding dress on Jax's floor was proof that I was no longer the same Reia I was yesterday. I was a pawned item that was already broken in the wrong hands.
I spent an hour under a stream of hot water that nearly burned my skin. I scrubbed my neck, my shoulders, and every inch of my skin roughly until it turned red, hoping the water could erase the traces of Jax's hands. However, the red mark on my neck—a hickey intentionally made by that devilish man—instead looked even more contrast against my pale skin. It was a mark of ownership that I could not hide.
With hands still trembling, I put on a cream-colored knit turtleneck to cover the mark completely, even though the weather outside was starting to get hot. I had to look normal. I had to be strong for the sake of my father's safety.
Going down to the dining room was the hardest torture. My steps felt heavy as I descended the spiral staircase, half of which was still covered in protective plastic from the renovation. There, at the long teak dining table, they had already gathered.
Dante was not there. The head chair of the table was empty.
"Dante is still abroad. There was a complication in the contract signing, he might only return the day after tomorrow," that flat voice broke the silence.
I looked up and found Joan sitting there. He had removed his white lab coat, now only wearing a light blue shirt that fit his athletic body. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearm muscles that were firm yet looked very clean. In front of him was a plate of healthy breakfast and a tablet displaying medical data.
Beside him, Jax sat casually, already fully dressed in a tight black t-shirt that accentuated his chest muscles. He was cutting a medium-rare steak, his movements very precise, as if he were cutting his prey. When I entered, Jax gave a lightning-fast look full of meaning, as if reminding me of every second in his bed last night.
"Sit down, Sister-in-law! You look pale," Joan said softly, yet his eyes behind the silver-rimmed glasses stared at me in a very uncomfortable way.
I sat in the chair furthest from them, trying to keep my distance. My hands were clenched under the table.
"Thank you," I whispered faintly.
A servant placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of me, but the aroma of butter suddenly made my stomach churn. I couldn't eat. I felt watched by two pairs of predatory eyes.
"Why wear closed clothing in this kind of weather, Reia?" Joan asked suddenly. He placed his knife and fork with a soft thud on the porcelain plate. "Are you feeling cold? Or... is there something you are hiding from this morning's medical examination?"
The question made me choke on my own saliva. I could feel Joan's sharp gaze as if piercing through the knit fabric covering my neck. He wasn't asking, he was stating that he knew.
Jax chuckled beside him, drinking his coffee with an arrogant style. "Maybe our Sister-in-law is feeling unwell, Joan. Her first night must have been very... exhausting."
I gripped the cloth under the table until my nails turned white. The brutality of both of them in pressuring me mentally made my inner corridors scream. Dante being far away abroad felt like an absent protector, leaving me in this lion's den alone.
Joan rose from his chair. He walked slowly around the table, his footsteps sounding very orderly on the marble floor. He stopped right behind my chair. I could feel his dominant presence, the scent of disinfectant and cold expensive perfume wafting from his body.
"As the family doctor, I am responsible for your health, especially now that you are part of this family's assets," Joan whispered, his large and cold hand suddenly landing on my shoulder. "Let's see if there are any injuries that need my attention."
Joan's touch on my shoulder felt like burning ice. I flinched, trying to pull away, but his calm grip was actually much stronger than it looked. His firm forearm muscles tensed under his light blue shirt, giving a silent warning that resistance would only embarrass me in front of the passing servants.
"Don't be tense, Reia. I just want to make sure you don't have a fever," Joan whispered right beside my ear. His voice was smooth, yet contained a tone of authority that made my courage shrivel.
I closed my eyes tightly as his long, cold fingers began to creep up to my turtleneck collar. I could feel the tips of his nails and the skin of his clean palms touching the edge of the knit fabric. My heart raced so fast that I was afraid Joan could feel it through his fingertips. Across the table, Jax set down his coffee cup with a soft thud, his wild eyes glinting with interest, as if watching a circus performance where I was his hunted animal.
"Maybe your husband was too rough when saying goodbye yesterday, Sister-in-law," Jax chimed in with a naughty smirk that destroyed the remains of my self-respect. "Dante is indeed stiff, but sometimes he forgets to control his strength, doesn't he?"
Joan did not answer his brother's taunt. Instead, he did something even more daring. With one movement that was very clinical yet provocative, he pulled my shirt collar slightly downward. Only one centimeter, but it was enough for his sharp eyes to catch the striking reddish-purple color on my pale skin.
I held my breath. My inner corridor screamed for help, but in reality I could only freeze.
"Interesting," Joan murmured softly. He released my shirt collar and stood straight again, adjusting his glasses with a very professional style. "There is quite serious tissue trauma here. As a doctor, I suggest intensive care. If left alone, this could cause... complications for our family image if any guests see it."
Joan walked back to his chair, but he did not sit down. He looked at me in a way that made me feel like a specimen under a microscope.
"Dante is reported not to return until the day after tomorrow," Joan continued, his voice now sounding colder. "That means, for the next two days, you are under my full supervision. I don't want any other accidents to happen in this mansion while your husband is away."
I squeezed the napkin in my lap until my nails turned white. "I... I'm fine. I just want to rest in the room."
"Rest?" Jax cut in with a short, harsh laugh. He rose from the chair, showing off his athletic body wrapped in a tight t-shirt. "This mansion is under renovation, Reia. Dust everywhere, naked wires in every corner. Your room isn't even fully safe yet. Why don't you just look around? See how we are rebuilding this cage for you."
I tried to get up to escape their pressure, but my head suddenly felt dizzy. Maybe because I hadn't eaten, or maybe because the fear kept draining my energy. As I stepped back, my foot tripped over a chair leg.
"Watch out!"
A very large and muscular arm suddenly wrapped around my waist, holding my body so I wouldn't fall. It wasn't Joan. It was Hunter, the fourth brother with a giant-like body. He had just entered the dining room in a sleeveless shirt that showed off his terrifying biceps and the sweat soaking his tan skin from working in the construction area since dawn.
Hunter looked down at me, his hot breath hitting my face. His rough hand gripped my waist with a strength capable of crushing bones. He looked at my neck that Joan had just opened, then turned to look at Jax and Joan with a gaze full of hostility.
"Are you bothering her?"
He did not release his embrace on my waist. Instead, he pulled me even closer to his rock-hard body, leaving me trapped between the scent of masculine sweat and a suffocating dominance.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy and steady footsteps was heard from the direction of the main door. Footsteps that I recognized very well.
The atmosphere in the dining room instantly froze. Hunter did not release his hand from my waist, Jax was still smirking in his chair, and Joan looked at the door with an expression that was hard to read.
The door swung wide open. Dante stood there in a perfect black suit, his face as cold as ice, but his eyes immediately fixed on Hunter's hand which was still wrapped tightly around my waist.
"What is happening in my house while I am away?"