The silence in the penthouse was deafening. Authur stood by the fireplace, pouring himself a drink-real whiskey this time.
"So," he said, his back to her. "We're married. But you don't want me to touch you. You just want my money and my name."
Helena leaned against the wall, her heart rate slowly returning to normal. She needed to deflect. She couldn't let him know about the trauma. He would use it against her.
"I want security," she said coldly. "And yes, I want the Alexander fortune secure."
She took a step forward, forcing her face into a mask of greed. She started to unbutton the top button of her dress. Her fingers felt like ice.
"But if you insist," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "We can do it. I need an heir. The trust fund releases an extra ten million upon the birth of a child."
She looked at him dead in the eye. "Let's get it over with. For the check."
Authur turned around. He saw her unbuttoning her dress like she was preparing for a root canal.
His face twisted in disgust. To him, sex was about passion, or at least pleasure. This... this was a transaction. And nothing turned Authur Alexander off faster than feeling like a stud horse being used for breeding.
"Stop," he ordered.
Helena stopped.
Authur slammed his glass down. He walked to the side table and yanked open a drawer. He pulled out a small white box.
He tossed it at her.
It hit her chest and fell to the floor.
"Plan B," Authur said. "Take it."
Helena picked up the box.
"I don't trust you," Authur sneered. "I don't want a child with a calculator for a heart. Take the pill. Now."
Helena opened the box. She popped the pill out of the foil.
"Water?" she asked.
"Swallow it dry."
Helena put the pill in her mouth. She placed it carefully under her tongue. She swallowed hard, mimicking the motion.
"Happy?" she asked, opening her mouth to show him. She lifted her tongue just enough to hide the white tablet.
Authur didn't look closely. He just wanted to leave.
"You sleep here," he said, grabbing his keys. "I'm going out."
"Where?"
"Somewhere I can find a woman who has a pulse," he snapped.
He stormed out. The elevator doors dinged.
Helena ran to the bathroom. She spat the pill into the toilet and flushed it. She rinsed her mouth.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She was alone on her wedding night.
"Good," she whispered. "One day down."
