Adolfo Mancini was calling.
Chapter Five
The slamming door jerked Kendra from her thoughts on what to cook for dinner, making her spin to face the archway that led to the massive foyer from the kitchen.
She was standing at the Banswara marble countertop, flicking through chicken recipes on her iPad because she was determined to use the chicken thighs she’d bought on sale. She might be a millionaire in her own right, and married to a billionaire, but she’d grown up poorest of the poor. Now that she had more than enough money to spend, she still couldn’t shake the urge to save, to thrift, to buy at cost or at a bargain. It often drove Gideon up the wall—the man had always had money, so he had no idea what it was like to have to stretch a twelve-count box of ramen for twenty days.
Alert to the sounds of her husband’s footsteps, Kendra waited, her smile in place, for her husband’s broad frame to appear in the doorway. He’d ask her what was for dinner, she’d tell him, then he’d head to the master suite to shower off the day and put on something less business and more casual. From lethal business suit to jeans and a t-shirt.
Lethal-business-suit Gideon was breathtaking in the power, presence, and raw sex appeal. Jeans-and-t-shirt Gideon wasthe one she liked most, though, because that was her Gideon, the Gideon Maddox no one else saw. Lethal-business-suit Gideon was always cold, controlled, calculating. Jeans-and-t-shirt Gideon was warmer, smiled genuinely, and laughed. Sadly, jeans-and-t-shirt Gideon hadn’t made an appearance in weeks, and she missed him.
So, she wasn’t surprised that lethal business suit Gideon appeared before her. What surprised her was that this Gideon looked…disheveled. His usually perfectly coiffed dark hair was mussed, like he’d run his fingers through it, over and over. His tie was loose, his suit coat was unbuttoned, and—overall—he looked like he’d gone head-to-head with another predator.
But what really made her recoil, her heart hammering, was the look of murder in his eyes.
Before she could regroup, his sharply beautiful face hardened, his lips curling into a sneer.
“Well, if it isn’t the little wifey; making dinner for her billionaire hubby after a long day,” he purred darkly, making the hairs on her arms stand up straight.
This was not her husband—she’d never seen him like this, even after the worst days, like when Lucian got himself in trouble with some Italian business magnate and Gideon and Logan had to help bail him out.
Steeling herself, reminding herself that she didn’t fear her husband, that she was concerned about him, that she loved him, she forced another smile to her face, stepping forward to help him from his suit coat.
“I’m making chicken,” she replied, “would you like a glass of wine while you wait?” It was their usual back and forth when he was home before dinner, which was becoming a rare thing, so she didn’t expect what he said.
“You want to make chicken? Pour me a glass of wine? What? You’re going to ask me about my day, about how things went at the office?”
Swallowing, her heart hammering harder, she nodded, then said, “Yes,” her voice raspy with uncertainty.
Gideon was a hard man, icy to his enemies, mostly thawed with his brothers, and usually somewhat warm to her, but this Gideon was glacial, chilling.
He stepped into the kitchen, his green eyes blazing with something she’d never seen in him before: rage.
“Gideon?” she asked, shaking now. She wasn’t scared of him, not really, but obviously something happened to make him this way, to wound him so badly he was lashing out.
So, she tried again. “Why don’t you take a long shower, huh? I’ll make dinner, pour you bourbon, and you can unwind?—”
“I don’t need your useless attempts at playing the doting wife, Kendra,” he snapped, making her gasp and jerk at the venom in his tone.
“I’m not playing anything, Gideon; I am your wife, and I love taking care of you—I love you, and I want to make sure you’re happy.”
Her whole life, all she ever wanted was a happy marriage with a man she loved, and who loved her. And she thought she had it.
“It’s obvious something happened at work, and I know you can’t tell me the details, but I could listen, let you unload some of the weight—we’re in his together, right? That’s why we chose to be together, because we care about one another.” She reached out, desperate to put a hand on his chest and soothe the raging storm swirling in his eyes. “I love you, Gideon, let me help you.”
His smile, when it appeared, flash froze that last bit of bravery she’d been strangling in her grasp.
His chuckle was dark, cruel. “You think I chose you because of some love at first sight bullshit? No,darling, I chose you because, out of all the women in Manhattan, you were the most naïve and desperate choice. No family, no prospects, starving for affection, for the family you never had—and I offered that to you on a silver platter. You gobbled up the romantic bullshit so fast, I’m surprised you didn’t choke. And then, you couldn’t even do the one fucking thing I needed you to do.”
“Gideon,” she sobbed, “what are you saying? I love you, you love me—you don’t mean that!”
“Oh, but I do, I mean every word.” Again, he chuckled, the sound making her skin crawl. “You honestly think I married you because I loved you, like some lovesick sap? Our marriage has always been aboutmyconvenience—I needed a wife so I’d look like a family man to the board and the media, and I needed a uterus to carry my legitimate heir. And despite all the times I choked down my disgust and fucked you, you still couldn’t do your fucking job and get pregnant.”
Stunned, she stared at him, eye wide, mouth hanging open, heart sliced to shreds in her chest.
She couldn’t draw a breath, her hands shaking, her legs trembling—she braced against the counter, unable to look away from the man in front of her.
A man who was not the man she married.
