Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen Nelson, S. (best finance books of all time TXT) 📖

"I know you detest the way that I look, but I try my best to cover it," she touched the scar on her neck. "I know that you must think about what he did every time that you touch me." She looked down. "Even now, just to be close to me is so… repulsive. And it's okay. I understand." She wiped the tears from her face. "Because I repulse my damned self. I can barely look in the mirror anymore. I can barely stand to be in my own skin. That's why I take pills. The more I sleep, the higher I am, the less I have to deal."

"Royal, no… " Dmitry said in a whisper. "But why all of sudden in the last year have things gotten so bad? Why haven't they been this bad the whole time?"

Royal tried to smile. "My little Anya really is beautiful. She's the most," she wiped tears from her cheeks. "She's the most beautiful girl that I've ever seen in my entire life, but you know, I just kept waiting for her to change –to look more like her daddy or even me. At her last birthday party, I realized that she'll always look like him. Shell always remind me, Dmitry."

"And that set you off."

"That and a hundred other things. Seeing the scars every time I take off my clothes. And you know just about six months ago my foster mother passed away. I read the newspaper there online every day. She was listed in the obituaries."

Dmitry sighed. He didn't know.

"I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

"I'm sure she knew that you loved her."

"And then there's me. Overall, I just feel like if I don't have my defenses up, if I'm not being a bitch at every moment, then someone will just take advantage of me again. It's hard to explain, but it's the truth." She shrugged her shoulders and spoke in a broken voice. "I'm all messed up, Dmitry. I'm not the same girl anymore. I… I don't know who I am."

In the shadows of the dark room, Dmitry let the tears fall down his eyes. He wiped them quickly and grunted as he looked up the ceiling.

While he wouldn't tell her, he had been waiting for the moment when she would let her guard down and tell him what was wrong for a year now. In fact, he had just told Anatoly earlier that day how heartbreaking the entire situation had been for him of late. But now, he wasn't sure if he was ready for the truth.

How had he missed it? How had he not seen how badly she had been damaged? All of this time, he was focused on the way the she behaved, not looking deep enough to see how open the wound still was for her.

His massive shoulders hung in defeat. He had failed her again. This time, he had done so miserably.

"I have blamed myself for your rape for so long," he confessed. "After all, it was my brother, my blood, my sins that caused this." He took a deep breath. "I have wished so many times that things could have been different—better for you." His voice was deep, low and pained. "And worst of all, I thought that because of these things you didn't love me anymore," he smirked. "I actually thought I repulsed you."

Royal was shaking now, covered in tears, quivering and alone. Somehow she thought it would feel better to confess her self-contempt, but now she only felt worse. And if it were possible, she felt even more ashamed.

She avoided making eye contact, keeping her eyes on the ground. God only knew what he must think of her now that he knew she was a certifiable basket case.

"I've always loved you, Dmitry. Don't be stupid," she said coldly.

Walking over to the bed, Dmitry leaned in and scooped her up in his arms. He put her on his lap and cradled her, determined to keep the walls down that they had finally broken through tonight.

"Look at me," he said, pulling at her chin. "Hey… look at me."

She looked up nervously. He moved her long wild hair from her face and rubbed his fingers over her lips.

"How? How do I get you to see, zhenshchina?" Dmitry asked, kissing her forehead as he held her in his arms. "You are the best part of me." He whispered husky baritone words in her ear. "Everything that is good in my life is good because of you. There is nothing more than you. There will never be anything more than you. What Ivan did to you doesn't make you any less of a woman; it made him less than a man. And you are still the most beautiful woman that I've ever seen in my life."

"You don't have to say that, Dmitry," she said, still trembling.

"It is truth, Royal. I have never stopped wanting you. I never stopped loving or desiring every part of you whether it is your best or worst day or day in between. I don't care. You are my wife. You have been my wife since first time I make love to you, way back when you were just young girl. Now, as a woman, I love you more. I need you more than I need to breathe."

Royal looked up astonished at his words. Her mouth was open. Tears ran down her face on her neck and collarbone. "Do you really mean it, Dmitry?"

"Baby, yes, I mean it." He wiped her tears. "All this time, I thought it was me. I thought you hated my guts."

"It's never been you," Royal said, looking down. "I'm always so damned angry or so scared. I can't control how beside myself I get. Some days I just feel like I'm going to crack. I