“What doesbel cuoremean?” she breathed out.
“Beautiful heart,” I said.
That was what she called me as she left the next morning with the waste of a boy. Then she told me to take care of myself. And when Donato delivered the news that she had been killed in a car accident on the way to the airport, that lion in my chest stirred with an unknown emotion.
It was not roaring, but weeping.
That was my first interaction with the beast inside of my chest other than feeling his anxious pacing, as if he was waiting for something that would save him from starvation.
Rosaria and her friend attempted to touch me, but I sent the friend away and allowed the darkness of the room I shared withthe woman, the sheets still smelling of her floral perfume, to consume me.
When we arrived in the Maldives, the sun seemed mocking.
“What are you so sour about?” Rosaria laughed, and that was mocking too. “Did the poor little girl that fell in love with you make a mark on my tender-hearted king’s?—”
I stepped toward her, and she stepped back, truly seeing the monster in my eyes and cowering at the sight of it.
“Do you want to strangle me, my ruthless king?” she breathed out, a fire deep within her starting to make it to the green of her jaded eyes. She lifted her neck, inviting me to wrap my hand around her slim throat until she almost blacked out. She went as wild as a lioness eating bloodied meat for it.
“How?” I cocked my head to the side. “By touching my wife with a tender hand? I think it not worth my time or energy.”
She sucked in a breath, as if those words above any of the words I had spoken to her had wounded her. I released her from my space, and turning, undressed. She watched me as I left our suite and dove into the crystal blue and teal water from our private pier. I turned my face to the sun, letting it fall over me, as the cool water enveloped me in its rocking embrace.
In the water, I was free to allow my feelings off the leash I usually had them on. I released them to the water, along with the time I had spent with the woman on the yacht.
She was a good woman who did not deserve the fate she was handed. I wished upon her husband an eternity full of lonely nights. A lonely so cold, it had sharp teeth, piercing claws, and would eat at his heart until the end of his days.
The water rocked me a little harder, and I opened my eyes to find my wife leaning against the railing of the pier, naked and allowing the sun to beat down on her skin. Her raven hair flowed around her with the constant tepid breezes, and she was a creature I understood, but had not planned on marrying. She could not be who I needed her to be—a woman who would walk gently withme through life, only turning into my ruthless queen when I was in danger.
Rosaria knew this, which was why she constantly invited other women into our bedroom. She raged. She cursed. She clawed. She bit. She could not tread gently. Rosaria, for all the truth in her voice, was too hot blooded to care about anything but her needs. I doubted she would go on bringing women into her relationships after me. She preferred group settings when women were involved. Perhaps they were allowed to give her what she felt I should not.
A tender touch.
She did not want that from me.
She wanted ruthless.
In that moment, I accepted it, as the woman from the yacht had accepted her fate with Dennis—her touch would have never been enough for him. He had traded wedded bliss for a dozen women who could get him off in a cheap night of fuckery.
That life did not appeal to me any longer.
I’d had it in my youth. I had older women and younger women. Women from all areas of life—with personalities that sometimes suited and not suited them. I would find myself in the homes, beds, of women who could be careless and cruel, but also women who could be tender and loving.
After our wedding, I would find myself in the arms of whichever woman could cater to my needs.
This was why when we repeated our vows, we did not take oaths to be true to each other only.
This was an arrangement between us.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
As my wife gazed out at the water, she was in her space again. The world at her feet. Forever giving the performance of her life, even if she thought no one was watching. But if she ever decided to take a lover and she fell in love with him…
The amount of water I was currently in could not touch the blood that would stain my palms for eternity.
If she could not love me.
