POV: Olivia

He snapped his head my way, eyes blazing in anger. He spotted his shirt on me and that infuriates him even more. I noticed the way he grinds his tooth in anger whist looking at me wearing his shirt.

“Are you testing my limits, Sophia?

Are you courting death?” he asked me.

“I didn’t ask for this marriage,” I whispered nonchalantly.

“No,” he said, voice a blade sliding back into its sheath. “But you benefited from it.” He scoffed, giving me that condescending look that drives me insane. Silence settled. A heavy, suffocating cloak.

Then, abruptly, he shifted the wheels of his chair. The motor murmured, and he...