She tried to shrug, but the fake nonchalance that had been carrying her through this conversation was seeping out of her like a deflating balloon. “Smuggling the documents out was the riskiest part. If I’d had a blood pressure monitor attached to me, it would have given me away in seconds.”
There was no movement on his features other than his lips. The hard obsidian in his eyes had become a permanent feature these past few days. Since their kiss. “If there’s someone else in the business working against us, how would I know? How would I make it harder for them to do what you’ve done?”
“I don’t know how you’d know. If you want to make it harder for them to act, introduce coded printers so that everything printed off is attributed and documented. Ban working from home so there’s no excuse for staff to take documents out of the building.” Suddenly desperate to see him smile, she added, “Don’t leave burner phones unattended and unlocked.”
There was no crack in the obsidian. “The documents you stole from my phone – how incriminating were they?”
She gave another shrug to mask the unmistakable sense of panic suddenly nibbling at her chest. “Probably not asincriminating as anything I’d have found on one of your father’s burner phones.”
The obsidian…how she missed the terrifying wildness that had always been there before…studied her so intently and for so long she gripped her wrist to stop herself from trembling.
“I have a project for you.”
“Oh?”
“I want you to use your extensive experience to identify the weaknesses in the legitimate business that jeopardises the shadowed world.”
Stunned, it took a moment to gather her thoughts. “You want me to help you with your company’s security?”
“You set a thief to catch a thief. In this case, I’m setting a rat to catch a rat.”
She tried not to flinch. If she never heard the wordratagain, it would be too soon. “But why would you trust me to do that?”
“I will never trust you, but I trust your instincts for self-preservation.” He finally smiled. It didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re married to an Esposito now, Gabriella. If I go down, I’ll make damned sure you go down with me.”
Chapter Twelve
The evening was warmerthan it had been in recent weeks, but Gabriella was touched that Tommaso had ensured the patio heating was turned on so she wouldn’t feel the slight chill while they ate their dinner overlooking the garden that grew more fragrant by the day.
It was the only warmth to be found. From Tommaso, there was only coldness. Not that she could even properly define it as coldness, not when he was perfectly cordial to her.
She’d preferred it when he’d made no bones about his loathing of her. At least that had been real. At least it meant he’d felt something for her. Now, it was like all emotion had been sucked out of him. She’d known Tommaso the whole of her life and had never dreamed the wild boy who’d grown into a wild man would be capable of such emotional restraint. Or any restraint at all.
Gabriella had entered their marriage longing for the day he grew tired of her. Although she’d hoped, she’d never really believed it would come so quickly, and she’d certainly never imagined how bereft its coming would make her feel.
Since their kiss, there had been no physical contact between them. Her period had finished days ago, but he hadn’t even attempted to make love to her.
She shouldn’t call it making love, she knew that, but her heart no longer allowed her to call it screwing or, worse, fucking.
Making hate. That’s what she should call it, just as the marks they made on each other’s bodies should be called hate bites.
He’d removed all the mirrors from their bedroom. Two new wall-length ones had been installed in their place. The ceiling was now just ceiling, their bedroom a room solely for sleeping. There had been a few times when she’d felt the weight of him compressed against her in sleep, but couldn’t be certain she hadn’t dreamt it. If it had been real, it had been fleeting.
The ossobuco that Tommaso’s chef had made for them was so tender and divine it deserved to be savoured, but Tommaso was wolfing it down with all the finesse of a man eating a fast-food burger. If the speed he was eating wasn’t proof he was in no mood for conversation, the fact he kept his attention firmly fixed on his phone spoke his wish for silence loud and clear. When he’d finished, Gabriella was barely a quarter of the way through her dish, and although a part of her was expecting it, when he dabbed his mouth with his napkin and rose to his feet, her heart still clenched.
“Forgive my rudeness,” he said in a bland tone she didn’t recognise, “But I need to go.”
She strove to match his blandness. “Work?” He’d worked until the early hours on the shadowed side of the business in recent days. She’d been left behind in the villa.
“No. A party.”
Her fingers tightened around her cutlery. “I take it I’m not invited.”
His obsidian eyes locked onto hers. The challenge in them was unmistakable. “It’s not a party for wives.”
All the food she’d eaten threatened to come back up.
Painfully aware her chin was wobbling, she lifted it with all the defiance in her soul. “Have a nice time.”
