"You tell me not to trust anyone," I say, the words cutting clean and fast. "But how the hell am I supposed to trustyou? You met with the Red Tribunal and what… you’re their puppet now and I’m just the wife at home who doesn’t get answers?"
Kingston pushes off the doorframe and crosses the room in three confident strides, killing the space between us without rushing. He stops a foot away, enough to sense the heat rolling off him in waves.
His dark eyes lock on mine with a force like gravity itself.
"I don't need your trust, Livvie," he says, smirking. "I need yourobedience."
The final word hangs in the air like a slap. My heart slams against my ribs, fury and something hotter weaving around my heart.
Without thinking, I lunge for the whiskey glass sitting forgotten on the dresser. My hand closes around it, and before his next breath, I hurl it across the room.
“Fuck you,husband,” I hiss. “I don't do obedience.”
Glass smashes against the far wall, exploding into ashower of crystal shards that rain down onto the floor, sprinkling like falling blood diamonds.
Kingston doesn’t flinch or even blink. Instead, he smiles like a fucking handsome predator humoring his prey.
"Feel better, princess?" he drawls, his voice threaded with amusement.
But I know better than to rise to his sarcasm. So I scowl at him instead and just stand there, heart hammering, every nerve in my body vibrating with the need to either punch him or… straddle him.
God-fucking-damn-it.
Kingston studies me with that maddening calmness he learned from his father, and then after a racing heartbeat, he steps into my personal space.
The scent of his cologne seeps into my skin and short-circuits my better judgment.
He lifts his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, the touch almost tender. His fingers linger against my jaw, and when his thumb drags along the curve of my cheekbone, his pupils flare and his tongue skates between his beautiful full lips.
"You can throw things," he murmurs. "You can scream. You can fight me every damn step of the way."
His thumb glides across my lower lip, sending a shudder down my spine.
"But when it counts, Livvie," he continues, tone softening in that terrifying, lethal way, "you'll listen. And you’ll obey."
I suck in a fast breath, defiance rising in me like wildfire, burning hotter than my fear.
"You really think you’re my Lord and fucking master, don’t ya?” I whisper, the words hissing free. “If you want my compliance, you’ll need to work on trust, Kingston. Starting with the Red Tribunal meeting. What do they want?”
His mouth curves into something dark and devastating.
"I can’t tell you, princess," he says. "I’m sworn to secrecy and if you’re smart, you’ll stop pushing and start… pulling."
His grin widens and my heart pounds.
“In your dreams.” I fold my arms across my chest.
“And yours,” he counters.
For a moment, we just stand there, locked in a silent battle of wills. He leans in just a fraction more, his mouth so close his breath ghosts against mine.
For a fleeting second I think he’ll kiss me. Instead, he pulls back with agonizing control, letting the space between us throb with all the things left undone,unclaimed.
I grunt at him and stomp toward the dresser, snatching my violin from its case. Lifting it to my shoulder, I draw the bow across the strings in a savage arco, letting the sound rip through the tension like a scream.
And I don’t hold back.
Music pours out of me in furious waves, each note raw and jagged, slicing through the heavy air like a blade.
