“I’m not sure yet,” I answer. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll figure it out.”
Someone taps their wine glass, the ringing sound draws everyone’s attention. “Let’s eat!”
Cian finds me and we join the newlyweds at their table for the wedding feast. Elena follows behind us, takes one glance at where Cian settles beside me, and she chooses the chair furthest from him. I hate how her eyes light up with fear every time he’s around. He’s done nothing cruel to her, in fact he barely pays her any attention at all.
Perhaps it’s the what-ifs that plague her mind. What if she hadn’t been kidnapped? She’d be the one married to him instead of me. She’d be his wife, and she’d hate it.
CHAPTER 38
Cian
“Iwant to get a job,” Ravenna announces a couple weeks after we return to New York from Italy. Her words take me completely by surprise. For a long moment, I stare at where she hovers in my office entrance.
“Why do you want a job? We don’t need money, you don’t have to work.” I’m confused. Don’t I provide enough for her? Isn’t she happy with what she has? If she wants a job, then I must have somehow failed her. Is she not happy with me?
“I know. And honestly, I feel a little bad potentially taking a paying job away from someone who needs it. But I’ll donate everything I make to charity. I’m going stir crazy. I need some kind of routine, structure to my life. I’m not involved in your business and I don’t want to be. I want to do something normal—and legal.”
I frown at her, not understanding where this is suddenly coming from. “What type of job do you want?”
“Well, I’m not qualified for much. Most of the things I’ve looked into require at least some college education, but I talked with Aunt Rosa and she has a friend of a friend who is looking to fill a simple secretary position at a modeling agency. It’s nothing glamorous. I’d mostly be getting coffee, running errands, anddoing other odds and ends until I’ve proven I can take on more responsibility. That’s if I can even get the job. I have an interview on Wednesday.”
I lean back in my chair, arms folded. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”
She flushes a pretty pink beneath her tan. “I wanted to have a potential plan in place before talking with you about it. So you know that I’m actually serious, and this isn’t a whim.”
“Oh, I take you very seriously,broc meala, you should know that by now. It seems like this has been on your mind for a while.” I study her.
“Sort of. I really came up with the idea when we were in Italy. But I’ve been feeling restless for months.”
Standing up, I go to her and cup her cheek. “All I ever want is for you to be happy. If you think this job will make you happier, then do it. I’ll give you anything this world has to offer, as long as it’s in my power to do so. But if you ever feel like I’m letting you down, say so.”
“You’ve never let me down,” she says sweetly.
We both know that’s not entirely true. I let her down when I abandoned her at her parents’ house. And now I’m afraid I’m letting her down by not giving her a child. I need to get myself checked by the doctor, though I’m dreading that, so I keep delaying. What if all of my fears are confirmed? What if I’m infertile?
My darling wife could drift into the arms of another man, one who can give her the family she desires. Which would be my fault, since I can’t fulfill her needs. She thinks I’m unaware of it, but I’ve seen the yearning in her gaze when she sees a child. The way she slows down when we walk past the room that’s reserved for a future nursery. Not having a family is slowly killing her inside.
If she finds another man, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
Then I’d have to kill that man. But doing so would destroy Ravenna. Her being with another man would destroy me.
Sometimes I feel like our nearly perfect marriage teeters on the brink of disaster. If I talk with the doctor and they confirm that I’m infertile, what will that do to us? Will that be the beginning of the end?
I try to push away my negative thoughts. Worries and fears won’t fix anything. Besides, I should have more faith in my wife, and inus, but I’m not perfect. Far from it.
Gently kissing Ravenna, I ask, “What’s the name of the agency?”
“Bane Modeling Management.”
I grunt in amusement. “I see. Are you sure you don’t want to find work that has something to do with your interest in history?”
She wrinkles her nose. “No. History is my escape, I read it to relax. I’d never want to work in that field.”
“Very well. If this job is what you really want, I can deliver it to you on a silver platter. You don’t need to ask your aunt for this favor.”
“Oh? How?” Her beautiful face brightens with intrigue.
“One of my cousins owns that agency. I’ll talk with him. He’ll make sure you get the job.”
